Thought for the day

You can't set fire to ashes
but we all keep trying anyway
because that's where the fire used to burn.


Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells

A funny sense of fun

As Lawrence blows out the match, and we slam cut to a Saudi sunrise, and then the music swells in the crossfade to two tiny riders on camels in the immensity of the desert, my companion for the evening, who was seeing Lawrence of Arabia for the very first time (as opposed to the slightly first time), turned to me with her eyes wide and a look of WTF on her face and whispered, “Is that REAL?”


ME: Meaning did they actually film that in Arabia?
SHE: Yes.
ME: Oh yes, it’s real.
SHE: No special effects?
ME: None.
SHE: No CGI?
ME: Nope.
SHE: Oh my GOD!
THE GUY IN FRONT OF US: Will you two shut up?
ME: Give her a break--she’s seeing the movie for the first time.
THE GUY IN FRONT OF US: Ah! In that case, don’t forget to tell her the Noel Coward story.
THE GUY BEHIND US: And the "Clever lad!" story.

Point being, I guess, that in these days of modern times, we automatically see a movie screen full of thousands of extras and automatically assume that they were computer-generated, instead of Moroccan soldiers dressed up in costume.

If She Must Love You Back, It Is Not Love

You cannot force her hand into your glove--
No matter who your aching heart adores,
If she must love you back, it is not love.

Push is the proper answer to a shove.
Her fingers have to want to reach for yours--
You cannot force her hand into your glove.

Demands never draw gods down from above--
It matters not how much your need implores:
If he must love you back, it is not love.

You make a prison when you cage a dove;
She has to wish to build a nest indoors.
You cannot force her hand into your glove.

No matter whose sweet kiss you’re dreaming of,
Constraint will not make his lips lock with yours:
If he must love you back, it is not love.

Some inner voice may cry “She wants you, guv!”
But shouting “Let me in!” won’t open doors:
You cannot force her hand into your glove;
If she must love you back, it is not love.

WRITTEN: 11/6/11, 12:15 - 1:30PM
LOCATION: The Hill
BARTENDER: Lisa Seabury
UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF: Riesling


Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells

Seat 50-D

There was an empty seat right next to mine
   On the plane home, and all throughout the flight
I wondered: was it random?  Or a sign?
   And if a sign, of something wrong or right?
Was it there to tell me I am alone
   And always will be, wherever I go?
A waiting nest?  Or some bird that had flown?
   Just what I need?  Or what I’ll never know?
I think it was a test of character--
   This world’s the echo of an inner voice
That whispers what we secretly prefer:
   To hope or blame, to sulk or else rejoice.
      For what we choose, we will see everywhere:
      The empty hollow, or the waiting chair.

Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells

Best. Vacation. Ever.

Last shot in Sydney, 11/2/11

IMDB Love

I remember you the way that I
Remember a bad movie that I saw
Back in the Eighties. 


Everything’s vanished
Except the best lines, one or two good scenes,
And the love theme that played under it all.


The actors tried their best, but when they got
Together, it looked like they were in two
Different movies.


And when it finally ended,
Everyone said, “Huh? That’s IT? What a gyp!”
And didn’t even stay to see the credits.


Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells

Songs for a Tuesday Morning Afternoon: If you were here, I'd only bleed you

When their first album came out, people referred to it as MUTTER or MUMBLE because the lyrics were so unintelligible that the songs sounded like a side project of the Cocteau Twins.  But their sound got--shall we say brasher?--over the years, an evolution you can clearly see between their IRS releases and their Warner releases.  The IRS REM has a small club sound that occasionally erupts into something that shakes the walls; the Warners REM has an arena sound that occasionally gets very quiet and intimate.

Side note: Rolling Stone voted Murmur Best Album in 1983, over Thriller and Synchronicity.  I'm guessing that you, like me, are trying to remember the last time you listened to Murmur all the way through, and knowing that it was a lot longer than the last time you heard a song from Thriller or Synchronicity . . . .

Shiny Happy People


Losing My Religion


(Don't go back to) Rockville

Videos from The Players Club Poetry Reading - 9/30/11

So

Songs for a Tuesday Morning - Utter Nonsense

Return with me now to those thrilling days of yesteryear, when parents listened in to what their teenage sons and daughters were singing along to on their Japanese-made transistor radios. Imagine their approval of The Beatles (they wanted to hold your hand). Imagine their fear of The Rolling Stones (they wanted to knock up your daughter). Imagine their utter inability to understand the lyrics, never mind the appeal, of the Rivingtons' two mid-level R&B hits that were swiped by The Trashmen and turned into the #4 1963 hit "Surfin' Bird." Imagine these fortyish souls saying to themselves, "What total verbal nonsense!" And then imagine how easy it must have been for these ex-youngsters to forget that in their day they were doing the Lindy Hop to "Mairzy Doats."

Papa Oom-Mow-Mow 


Mama Oom-Mow-Mow

Thought for the day

"Strong women don't have a problem with 
authority.  Strong women have a problem with 
stupidity."

  --MJ Wells