#gig
(a tribute to richard walters)
under the soft stage light
richard walters performed
a song called awards night
he’d written about elliott smith.
my heart ached quietly
for the ghost his voice carried.
sofar fairy –
as i call her in my head –
said i looked like
i was in the clouds,
living in the memory
of someone else.
his energy followed me
into the next morning at work.
half-stunned, half-joking,
they’d insinuate
my joy must have come
from someone’s warm embrace.
how could i explain to them,
that music and words
can whisper through your ribs,
settle in your chest,
and lift you higher
than any touch permits?
richard’s voice just lingered
like the aftertaste of honey,
like rain caught in leaves.
i carried him home in my pulse,
where elliott still lives,
softly whispering between
the notes of his guitar strings.
Aug 3, 2025
Aug 3, 2025 at 7:42 AM UTC
Ice cream
dreadlocks and dagga
somehow upended the cha-cha.
Jun 25, 2022
Jun 25, 2022 at 11:44 AM UTC
buzz, ****
doit, mute
hustle first
then bustle
screamin' chops
tired lips
crimson ties
broken blues
closed circles
open arms
wag the dog
book the gig
call the cab
hit the beat
play the set
chew the fat
sell the axe
make the rent
let the next
be the last
Aug 9, 2021
Aug 9, 2021 at 7:20 AM UTC
I first heard of you
In the hot heat of ’88
I was in love
My world full of bliss.
But the love
Died on the vine
And I was lost
And alone but I had
The songs of the
Beehive to protect me.
I’ve been to your city
With my friends
I’ve walked your earth
And yes, it’s my home,
My only home.
I’ve been the lover,
The barbarian
And the moon
All in my short life
On this earth.
I thought the Beehive
Had died
But in ’91
And finally ’96 you finally
Came alive again.
I thank Tracy
And Melissa for
The best music
In the world
And that timeless gig in ’91.
from Her Name is Hope – Life Force
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 9:55 AM UTC
Waltzing through the chaos that life’s left for today,
Dragging along my battered horn in case she wants to play
‘Scuse me, Ms. Bartender, but I’ve got something to say
Ain’t nobody listening to the radio anyway
I don’t need a soapbox, no suit or microphone
Just a space to spread the truth wherever I may roam
I speak straight from the bottom of a bottle left at home
The night is not much easier when you take it on alone
Hear ye, hear ye, gather round to hear a tale
Of dreaming big, working hard, but destined still to fail
Shredding that loopy little melody,
The craziest cat you ever did see
Make you feel so alive, ladies screaming, “Wow boy!”
I jump and I jive, cuz I’m a bebop cowboy
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
The end of this party that we call love.
Fire lighter’s and raise them high,
The time has come to reach the end.
The end of all those things we did.
The end of you, the end of me; we are at our end.
From a pit, I whispered to you
And all you saw were lips that move.
In silhouettes I made my move
And I fell so deep into love with you.
A thought of loss for you my dear;
My wish to start a life apart,
Has never brought you to feel so near…
Why are you still here?
Sorrowful but satisfied;
All the tears I cried, I wish I had never cried.
So sad to see you later with your beautiful smile,
When all I want to see is the end of all time.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 5:22 PM UTC
the duration of the gig will last
for three exceptional years
by the end of it aficionados would
have shed some tears
let us all recall
the two tunes listed below
which were heard in
many a marvellous show
Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane
I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain
Don't go breaking my heart
I couldn't if I tried
Oh honey if I get restless
baby you're not that kind
our glittering Sir Elton John
bopping on the piano
the catalogue of his hits
a lyrical nano
collaborating with Sir Bernie Taupin
together a dynamic partnership
who knew how a song would
stay in the mind's companionship
departing from entertaining
on the world's musical stage
leaving a remarkable footnote
of rock and roll homage
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC
i imagine us
watching concerts and gigs,
enjoying our nights;
singing and jumping to our favorite songs,
looking and smiling at each other,
your arms around me,
holding my hand later on,
and kissing—i love the idea of you
kissing me, baby.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
-Do you love me?
-Yes!
-How?
-Till death!
-I thought longer...
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 8:07 AM UTC
Walked near her slowly,
Brushed with hand, breathing slowly,
She came closer, shaking,
Warm, quite, soft...
Her eyes were shing like a moon,
They were telling way too much,
I've start to play with her with hand,
Slowly put her legs apart...
Hand was filled with warmth of her soft breast,
Movement up and down she been waiting for...
Then thrill pierced inside of me,
And white liquid dripped..
At that moment i felt enravishment,
That's how i milked a cow for a first time...
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
It's 3 am when you wake me
with cold hands in the shape of chords,
breathing stories and whiskey
spilled on the p.a by a guy
asking for songs.
In between saturday and sunday
you tell me about the bikes
in town for the rally,
lining the streets in rows of inert thunder
while their people drank
and moved to the music you made.
It's 4 am
before morning finds the bluff
to light up the world's earliest hours
good morning you say
before we fall asleep,
laughing at your own joke.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 4:23 AM UTC
4
10:30
"Knock knock"
Still in my pyjamas.
We drank coffee and smoked cigarettes.
He went to a rap gig the night before.
Fifteen dollars wasted.
3
13:00
An old school friend.
More coffee.
We spoke of art, travel and vegetable gardens.
In Japan they don't eat or show affection in public she told me.
Aokigahara finally makes sense.
2
22:00
Lucky Coq.
Girls would ****** for his hair.
He told me of his grandfathers poetry recitals every Christmas.
Idiosyncrasies are the ventriloquists of my heart.
1
23:00
We smoked under vine-entwined lanterns.
He fell in love with a French girl once and lived with her in Versailles.
He was young and went back home.
Regret at the fork in the road.
0
23:30
Left to find a 24/7 bottle shop and go home.
Crossed paths with old friends.
"Come have a drink with us"
-1
-2
-3
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 11:04 PM UTC
i keep everything.
little moments of happiness in a box beneath my bed,
ready for me to glimpse at when the tears arrive.
the receipt from my first date,
the lipstick i was wearing when i had my first kiss,
the photo from that first party,
the ticket to the first concert i went to.
as i look at each moment,
stroke the printed band name
and run my hands over the faces of those i love most,
i can still see it all.
the laughs,
the smiles,
the loud music.
i pick up the photo
and i feel his hand round my waist again,
immediately transported back
to that night
beneath the beautiful stars,
our lips pressed together and our bodies entwined.
i glance at the ticket
and my ears ring with the memory
of dancing
and flashing lights
and jumping over the ripples of notes.
i keep everything
because it makes me happy.
i will forever have those moments with me,
and i will never let go.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC