The Evening Mouthful

reasoned splutterings & hasty wisdom

Archive for April 2009

(just before bed after a very busy Wednesday)

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Peace! He rubs his weary orbs, dimming into rest,

Pleas’d God hath through-ordained the day to offer him His best;

The night is fastly fleeting, come the Sun he’ll cry,

“My sky still swims surrounding me, another day to fly!”

*  *  *

For surely massive mountains call his reaching climb,

And hills were never overstepped by resting all the time;

So now he soundly takes the briefest peace he needs,

The sleep received will aid him run with all the strength of steeds.

Written by Dave Dueck

April 30, 2009 at 5:25 am

Posted in poetry, regular

(eating breakfast on Tuesday)

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Still, he absorbeth bran with wakeful prudence, slow,

And sips his warmish liquids after tasting toasted dough;

His day is long, tho’ having only just begun,

Endure he surely can, and will! He has already won.

*  *  *

In speed and duty both the hours will fly away,

Focused in the work of busy hands, the minutes will not weigh

His mind will not be idle, his eyes intent on work,

Soon enough his debts are paid, about his neck no longer lurk.

Written by Dave Dueck

April 28, 2009 at 2:30 pm

Posted in poetry, regular

Knowing Soundtrack Review: Grand but Inconsistent Apocalyptic Score by Marco Beltrami

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Written by Dave Dueck

April 27, 2009 at 2:52 pm

Posted in film music, link

(getting ready to go to work on Monday)

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Calm, he prepares his mind for Monday hours long,

By sighing deep his fav’rite childhood songs;

And girds his waist with leather belts a’stretch’d,

that his pale surface appear not over-wretch’d.

*  *  *

The violin and chorus of the morning hours sing,

Soon to lowish afternoon bassoons surrendering;

By night the great ensemble has to one voice a’shrink’d,

The voice of loving God a’whispering, “To Bed!”, I think.

Written by Dave Dueck

April 27, 2009 at 1:15 pm

Posted in poetry, regular

Rob’s Heart

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I wrote this poem/song a very long time ago, and it created quite a controversy amongst my circle. I like it too much to let it disappear, though, so here it is.

*  *  *
Thought we had a friendship, thought we still were pals
But I never once suspected this from a Massachusetts Gal
She tricked us all, she had us fooled
She was a doll, but turned out cruel
And will the world remember? I do not think it shall.

It started on a Monday, on a bright and sunny morn
It all began with Facebook, and a cool friendship was born
She told me not to hurt myself, and she told my pal that too,
Shoulda never listened, should not have been the foo.

She said she wanted both of us to take good care and stuff;
She really seemed to care for us, we couldn’t get enough!
We couldn’t wait ‘till she came home, we thought she was the bomb
We decided that the both of us would take her to the prom.

It turned out she hated us, and she’d barely got home when
She pulled out a machine gun, I think it was a Bren!
She cocked the gun and pointed it, and on the trigger pulled,
And in a couple seconds were our hopes and lives annulled

She towed our bodies out to sea, and dumped us in the waves;
She laughed and cackled, roared and more, and generally raved,
And left us there, to sink and rot, as she motored on her way
Back to her home (I think it’s known to be somewhere in L.A.)

The fish all saw our bodies, and soon began to nibble.
They ate our skin and entrails, and digested us a little;
The only pieces that they left for the sea to wash back home,
Was a small piece of Rob’s Heart, and all of both our bones

Our days were done, and on the beach the sun bleached our remains;
Until one day, I’m sad to say, Brad Pitt up to us came!
He saw our bones and thought they’d make a cool piece of art.
(No skin, of course, just bones, and a small piece of Rob’s heart.)

He took us home and washed us up and hung us on the wall,
When suddenly, Jiselle arrived, she’d just been to the Mall;
She said “Why Brad! Amazing! I just LOVE your work of craft!
It reminds of those fellows I once dumped from my raft!”

He said, “I know! And this work of art will make us both quite rich.
Hollywood just bought the rights, so this means we can get hitched!”
The news next morning told it all, the story of that work of art,
Made up of bones, both me and Rob’s, and a small bit of Rob’s heart.

So they got married, and decided to become celebrities;
And me and Rob still grace the wall, as pretty as you please!
We’re famous now, as is she, the wife of Bradley-Man,
Jiselle, from Massachusetts, who was once my Biggest Fan.

THE END

Written by Dave Dueck

April 26, 2009 at 8:58 pm

Posted in poetry, regular

(writing during a rainy Sunday afternoon)

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Staid, he doth while away the Sabbath hours,

By musing content on his Master’s powers;

And scribb’leth hazard notes on sundry themes,

With weather eye out for miss’d Sunbeams.

* * *

Whither airy thoughts fly, and whether they land,

Matters mostly as much as the view they command;

And when they are writ, full of wit and good force,

He hints with a hope that the speech be not coarse.

Written by Dave Dueck

April 26, 2009 at 7:03 pm

Posted in poetry, regular

Upcoming Film Scores: Hans Zimmer – Sherlock Holmes

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Link: Upcoming Film Scores: Hans Zimmer – Sherlock Holmes

Not sure whether this project or its score it worth getting excited about. Time will tell.

Written by Dave Dueck

April 25, 2009 at 6:09 am

Posted in film music, link