Jump to content

AC Benus

Author: Signature Author
  • Content Count

    5,407
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by AC Benus

  1. Happy Autumn from Famous-Barr!

    (This is part of their 1922 quarterly mailer; I now have two of the four :)

    spacer.png

     

    1. Reader1810

      Reader1810

      The wow emoji is for where my thoughts led me: 

      Sandro Botticelli’s Birth of Venus

      Perhaps, it’s her swirling hair that has me seeing the other image? 🤔

      Regardless, it’s quite compelling to look at. 
       

      I like it. :thumbup:

       

    2. Parker Owens

      Parker Owens

      Awesome! It definitely brings its era to life. 

    3. dughlas

      dughlas

      Now if just there was a story to accompany the image ... I know, I know, not asking for much.

  2. Not only was Blind Boy Fuller one of the greatest blues guitarists of all time -- in the recording, in addition to the treble and bass music, all the percussion sounds you hear are made my Fuller striking the body of his guitar -- but in 1940 he laid down the first 100% Rock and Roll song. Enjoy Step It Up and Go.

     

    1. Zombie

      Zombie

      Why is this guy just a footnote in music history?

      He’s not even mentioned on the utterly commercial give-us-yer-money “Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame” website, yet they happily list the likes of Mick Jagger who (along with every other rock and roll star) has this guy and others to thank for a whole lifetime career - which, to be fair, Jagger has freely acknowledged. Yet the so-called RARHOF just ignores Fuller. Shame on them.

       

    2. AC Benus

      AC Benus

      @Zombie ...well, you think race has anything to do with it...? For a long time even Chuck Berry was shunned in favor of Rock "pioneers" like Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis. 

      As for Fuller's recordings, they are all very interesting. If there is such a thing as Randy Newman fans out there anymore (hehehe...), then they'd be surprised to learn his style is a total ripoff of Blind Boy Fuller. This song will show that :)

       

      "What's that smell like fish (mamma)?" 1938

       

    3. Zombie

      Zombie

      @AC Benus “you think race has anything to do with it...?

      Not in the UK - the “Northern Soul” movement that began in the 60s was always a celebration of black US music and is just one (significant) example. It was a badge of honour to discover the most obscure black musicians no-one else knew about, eschewing the likes of “white” friendly Motown. Another example would, of course, be the BBC - so for the likes of John Peel on his radio show the more obscure the better! :) 
      For “ordinary Jo” folks it’s simply a matter of ignorance, especially in the current world of pop “celebrity” :(  

       

       

       

  3. 1972 Pride Poster :)

    spacer.png

    1. Parker Owens

      Parker Owens

      Way better than Alka Seltzer’s ad with the same slogan...

  4. That's a really nice performance. That young man has tremendous talent and control.
  5. The boy's falsetto is amazingly artistic and controlled. I believe the Russian tradition of basso profundo is basic to their (Byzantium-inherited) cultural grounding of what singing is. If you haven't heard Dmitry Seleznev perform, this will be a pleasant experience (and he's easy on the eyes too )
  6. I've known this vid for a while, but did not know this is part of a modern composition (set to Pushkin no less! ). Thanks for that info. Pushkin is famous for his one Gay piece of verse, which is suppressed in English, and barely known (so I am told) in Russian. Here is it: Imitation of the Arabic [Verse Style] My sweet boy, my tender boy, Show no shyness; you are mine for evermore. We share the commingled fire of insurgency; We live in the realm of fearless partnership. I fear not the dangerous taunts of other men, For one being divided in two is how we survive; Our brain like that of a sweet walnut Encased by a single sturdy shell. Alexandre Pushkin, 1835 _
  7. Your friendship Sonnet is very touching
  8. Franco Mezzena and Symphonia Perusina perform the 3rd movement from Viotti's violin concerto No. 28 in a-minor

    17:20 III. Allegretto vivo

  9. Thanks for your comment and support, dear friend
  10. . the sideshows burn circles in the pavement; the ash hangs relentlessly in the air we breathe; a nation holds its breath, waiting to see if democracy dies on our watch; and today was funeral day for a dear, dear friend who will never -- not in a million lifetimes -- be replaced. October 1st, 2020, 10:14 pm _
  11. Bohuslav Matoušek and Petr Adamec perform Dvorak's Romance for Piano and Violin, Op. 11

     

  12. Thanks for your comments and support, @BDANR As for the 'author,' I feel he feels McKeller as a subject is very worthy of attention indeed
  13. Thank you for your warm comments and support, Parker. They are both very much appreciated
  14. . On Desire’s Wings Haibun Inspired by a painting, and coming back to it time and time again – looking and studying, and knowing the key to understanding it was all there – the answer hit me. It is indeed all there, and it is indeed understandable to most anyone who’s chanced a moment of bliss, carried away on the soul’s wings of desire. A glance over the shoulder can Unfold a fan-deck palette of Every painterly shade that’s known By the very brushstroke of love. Like traces of pencil outlines Intending to hide below paint, Washes of outrageous colors Can layer transparent and faint. A lover on his haunches, soft, With breathless fulfillment's halo, Rewards his lover’s contentment Like a mirror on fire with his glow. Moments before, the artist’s back Had stretched as a canvas beneath His man’s broad hands in hot caress Trembling under the assault’s sheath. But now, glistening through spent pleasure, With Tom’s abdomen in his sight, Apprehensions irrelevant In John are allowed to take flight. For, hidden to the world outside, Drear safety’s notion holds no stake – Not race, nor age, nor station speak Deference to the oneness they make, And all the world’s aspiring lies On class and distance as protection Break, to fall in this post-climax Moment of sublime connection. And so, the artist’s eye captures As sure as any camera lens This moment for a future work To show how love with paint contends. With every truth hidden, exposed, For the briefest of long moments Spread over canvas like lover’s hands Immortalizing the events Where two become one for awhile And in adversity arouse Pleasured understanding in those Whom possibility allows. Feathered strokes of a paintbrush can Release the sheltered in us all, Daring each person to let go And let too-treasured precepts fall. ◇ ◇ ◇ How too have I been in likewise position; been placed to experience the moment portrayed in paint. John Singer Sargent glancing behind in the rapturous climax of gloriously connected sex, to see his muse and love – Thomas McKeller – panting, sheened with light perspiration, glancing away to catch his breath and let the mental waves of contentment continue to lap the shores of his temporal being. Sargent captured it all in paint, especially the most-private, most-true to the eye, but largely unseen truth of their soul’s Socratic wings of desire. Nature’s great quantum Shows scales, rough and protective, Can feathers become. ~ Thomas McKeller by John Singer Sargent, circa 1917 _
  15. AC Benus

    Commendatore

    Poor Rick. What damage this would do to a 15/16 year old's sense of self-worth is inestimable. And why is the "elite", the "entitled" pricks of the world constantly get away with going around, mouthing the line Willy says here more than once: "New rule." This is a devastating chapter, coming all the more shocking as it does as installment No. 2 in our journey to get to know Rick. You have certainly planted the reader firmly on his side.
  16. AC Benus

    Rites of Spring

    So, Cheryl is sick and wants to go on a dream vacation. That's a detail I failed to remember from this initial conversation. As for the way Rita is with her "Ricky", that I remember all too well. In this brief opening chapter, you give the reader a tantalizing taste of Rick's life. Many of the things mentioned here will have significance later on as we get deeper and deeper into the unfolding.
  17. Thanks for your comments and support, Parker
  18. . Part Ten: Handbasket Finale, True Colors LXVII. “For even now, the ax has been laid bare Before the root of the trees, so that Each failing to bring forth an honest harvest Might be taken down and fed to the flames.” — Book of Matthew 3:10 LXVIII. Our checkout baskets ever fuller groan For what items we think we’ve packed away The cost racks the sum we’ll have to pay To unpack one by one as a hot stone. With no means to avoid now, or postpone, The Reckoning’s total stands in our way Before we move another foot today And vast is our bill to the final Unknown. The environment falls about our ears, While plagues pandemic – political and Blood-red sick like corona virus tears – Fell every human hope bludgeoned by fears From a Police State’s bigoted command, Spelling doom in our fast-come End-of-Years. LXIX. i. Shells Across German forests the fires now rage As they do all around the globe, But among the hard-wood roots are bombs Sown in war, the blind xenophobe, To kill, to maim, to hurt those yet unborn, To lay in wait for the right time, Wreaking paused revenge on the innocent, And make son pay for father-crime. As metaphor, the fact is very apt, For much of what’s buried today Will naturally not have impact until Future first-responders must stray Upon the malice we’ve let go to seed And explode on the innocent Who’ll have to deal with the mess we’re making And bury more dead in lament. ii. Economic Rain Forests Biodiversity’s concept model Speaks to more than ecology, For as forests need plants both large and small, Small business now dies in a spree From government interfering, cyber Spying from abroad, and Covid – Four horsemen poised to shutter every door And take neighborhoods off the grid. Let the small plants die, and nothing survives – This emergency is poised, rife To extinguish the economy as We’ve known it in modern life. Let the economic undergrowth fade And trunks of billion-dollar firms Will be starved of all they need to make jobs And will topple, fodder for worms. iii. Virulent Buffoons Swinging in the Treetops The political plague we’ve suffered through Can be traced back to a “Bonzo” Sent to Washington on a tide of lies – A coot called Reagan, and new low – One now revealed on tape to have referred To Black diplomats as “monkeys”; In the White House, in the Oval Office, Getting “Yeah”s from Gop flunkies. From that horrible ‘man’ with no ideals We’ve been on a soapbox derby Heading downhill at breakneck speed, till now We see, the road to Hell’s swervy With every possible sin, even treason Enough to scare Benedict Arnold From ever having a bad thought again, Lest his name be slurred with this Ronald. iv. “Please forgive me” And so our powder-keg moment ignites With the clueless panicked, afraid Once Humpty Dumpty’s shell is cracked open All their privileges will be unmade Exclusive, designed to shield powers that be, But for all that’s gone and to come, If we hold one spark to guide us through the night It is we’re greater than our sum. America is hope, and one man showed Us what great power can discern – Appearing at a BLM protest, Holding an honest sign of tact; “I’m sorry I’m late. I had a lot to learn.” Hope, contrition, both are needed As we look around, try to start healing, And see where Good has been seeded. ~ _
  19. Gene Austin performing "Lonesome Road"

     

    1. ancientrichard

      ancientrichard

      I loved the old clockwork gramophone. My grandfather used to have one.

  20. Yes, I just want soberness. We all have -- including me -- acted too glib towards environmental matters. But it's our kids who will have to pay for that cavalier inaction on our part
  21. . Part Nine: Can Kicked Down the Road But Where Will We Live… III LXII. Words are my emotional Stock in trade – Sometimes I wish I were out of business. LXIII. Each year climate change modelers At universities around the world Update their software with data Collected as actual happenings On the globe the previous year. Spring 2020, when this was all done, Emails flew between the experts: “Did you get the same results?” they all asked. For based on last year’s trending facts, All the world’s supercomputers confirmed The climate was in its death throes. But instead of embracing these hard facts, These experts looked for ways to break The accuracy of their own programs. Faith had interfered with the ones The public has need to most rely on For sourcing empiric science – Not ones to wring hands and say “This must be wrong,” Just because they don’t want to ‘believe’ The horror of the findings in black and white – When they should have been warning us The seesaw tipping-point is past going back. How did even our researchers get to such corrupt, ostrich-in-the-sand convolutions meant to do harm? Like all things we do, following the money, If we dare; climate modeling Succumbs to faith-based degeneracy, For as the old, dirt-common prayer Lays out in bareness: “There’s no health in us.” LXIV. What wells up beneath the human Cesspit of destructive instinct To piss our graffiti mark On accomplishments and “punish” Nature for making us so truly inconsequential. Two-thousand-year-old Joshua Trees Pushed over and killed in the Gop Joke of a government shutdown, laying off National Park Rangers all across the land. Covid lockdown serves as an excuse for White ‘hunters’ on vacay in Africa to Murder a silverback gorilla in June, 2020, While how many rhinos and elephants must die too? The answer, all of them. Uncontrolled wildfires in Australia at the end of 2019 Were allowed to bring koalas to the point of extinction in the wild, thanks to years of encroachment and rampant bush fires. There’s our mark on Australia. And what’s to be next? Maybe pandas will go Extinct this fire season-or-next in China, If all The poachers don’t get to them first while the Government is looking away, dealing with the next virus. What wells up beneath the human Cesspit of destructive instinct To piss our graffiti mark On accomplishments and “punish” Nature for making us so truly inconsequential. LXV. Summer 2020 is a special time. A re-set moment button pushed To teeter humanity on an edge. Tip one way, it’s back to ‘normal’ And the certain times of hell to follow; Tip it back the way of correction – Of reflection; of positive action As opposed to passive handwringing – And maybe, we’ll have a chance. maybe LXVI. von . . . in Todesbanden Den Tod niemand zwingen kunnt Bei allen Menschenkindern, Das macht' alles unsre Sünd, Kein Unschuld war zu finden. Davon kam der Tod so bald Und nahm über uns Gewalt, Hielt uns in seinem Reich gefangen. Halleluja. — Martin Luther from . . . in Contracts of Death Not one of us can Death command, Nor the combined might of our kids, For trying feeds the root of sin, Sapping the health from the rest of us. Death wars and loots from us early By the caprice of his command To steal us captives for his domain. Alleluia. — Martin Luther _
  22. Toby and Redburn's love theme

     

  23. ...a tear-jerker this... Nick Drake performs Saturday Sun while his sister records at their family home

     

  24.  

    “Love is a buoy that floats; that can lift

    Deepest thoughts from the bottom of despair –

    Love is the anchor stopping boats adrift

    From letting their keels wander unaware…”

     

    https://gayauthors.org/story/ac-benus/onehundredandfifty-fivesonnets/61

     

    1. Lyssa

      Lyssa

      Wonderful! :-)

  25. . Sonnet No. 121 Who among us will stop to consider The pull of the crush; the ordinary; And the pulsing shot of the calendar Witnessed through slots of the momentary. In a joy not many can understand, I like to shop the day before Thanksgiving – The Wednesday evening supermarket, and, Those hurried and harried pull my heartstring. For these are of the moments no one writes, What slips common purpose of sympathy Farther away from the will that recites The dull, dead fade slipping to apathy. But – Wednesday night, let's stand with laced fingers, And feel bound through love to all those strangers. Sonnet No. 122 Love is a buoy that floats; that can lift Deepest thoughts from the bottom of despair – Love is the anchor stopping boats adrift From letting their keels wander unaware. So drowsy, my eyes want to close, but don't, For in their searing state through the darkness, Starlight sought is the one thing that I won't Have any chance to meet with like success. With line cast on your marker, on your bell, My bow points to safety and to harbor, Where in port, perhaps I can rest a spell, Once sky/water; hope/destiny might blur. Dreams fix me and make me a permanent mark – O Love, raise a great star from my feeble spark. _
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..