Sunday Morning Music

Ahoy there,
mateys !

Welcome to
the good
ship Sunday
Morning
Music.

Avast-
today,
our theme
is the ocean
and
stuff like that.

Give it
a listen–

I bet
you’ll sea
what I
mean……

.

Donald Fagen —
On The Dunes

.

David Gray —
Sail Away With Me

.

Looking Glass —
Brandy

.

Real MacKenzies–
The Tempest

.

Beatles —
Octopus’s Garden

.

Van Halen —
” Big River

.

George Benson —
Sailing

.

Talking Heads —
Take Me To The River

.

Styx —
” Come Sail Away

.

Lou Reed —
” Ocean

.

Blues Image —
Ride Captain Ride

.

Neil Young
Down By The River

.

Pogues / Dubliners  —
The Irish Rover

.

Beach Boys —
Sloop John B

.

Robert Plant —
Ship Of Fools

.

Bon Jovi
Wild Is The Wind

.

Paul Butterfield —
” Sail On Sailor

.

Van Morrison —
Across The Bridge

.

Jay Ferguson —
” Thunder Island

.

Blue October —
” Into The Ocean

.

Ella Fitzgerald —
” Cry Me A River

.

Steeleye Span —
Lovely On The Water

.

The Standells —
Dirty Water

.

Pearl Jam —
The Dock Of The Bay

.

Led Zeppelin —
” The Ocean

.

Commodores —
Sail On

.

Carly Simon —
Let The River Run

.

Tom Waits —
” Sea Of Love

.

Peggy Lee —
How Deep Is The Ocean

.

Chris Rea —
” Friends Across The Water

.

Doors —
Yes, The River Knows

.

Gordon Lightfoot —
” The Edmund Fitzgerald”

.

!!!! HOY !!!!!

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I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside

What is it about
that particular
beach that
makes me feel
all nine-years-old
again , I wonder ?

It’s amazing to me
that after all these
years, that a stroll
down the boardwalk
at night still makes
me every bit as
excited as it would then.

It’s not the wild
whirl of the
amusement rides,
the dark appeal of
mysterious shops,
the animation of
people all around,
.. or the ubiquitous
neon buzz of the
Mac’s Pizza signs
every block or so…..

I stop to ponder
further upon it.

Perhaps the
explanation lies
within some quiet
compromise of
sensory remembrance –

the sounds of the
great ocean swift
sweeping in and
out of that same
beach where I had
spent so many
happy hours –

my ocean –

– eyes tracing the place
on the pier where I was
gifted my very first kiss,
feeling still, the covert
tenderness of that hour,

her kiss –

– sniffing that special
fragrant balance of ocean,
sweat, and the oh-so-
sweet perfume of being
on vacation,

– the memory-tasting
of walk-around foods
of all kinds.

But there’s also
something essential
that’s not of bodily
sensation at all –

So, what is it,
I ask?

And as I pause
once more to
wonder at it,
I suddenly
perceive what
seems to be
a rift in time –

my head is spinning
and I find myself in
the strangest state
of mind –

like I could simply
leap over the railing
and dive into the
‘there and then’ –

until a blaring
Watch The Tramcar
brings me back to
the ‘here and now’.

Startled, 
and yes,
shaken a bit,
I commence
to stroll
once more,
and before long
it comes to me
what the missing
aspect was –

Freedom.

Yes, above all
those other things –

– it was the lovely
languorous freedom

freedom to walk,
or not walk –

freedom to swim
or not swim,

freedom to eat
or not eat –

freedom to be …
freedom to be me.

See ?

.

!!! HOY !!!

Edward Carpenter says:

carpenter

Scarcely a figure,
male or female, approaches,
but a tremor travels across it.
As when on the cliff
which bounds the edge
of a pond someone moves,
then in the bowels of
the water also there
is a mirrored movement,
So on the edge of this Ocean.
The glory of the human form,
even faintly outlined under
the trees or by the shore,
convulses it with far reminiscences;
(Yet strong and solid the sea-banks,
not lightly to be overpassed;)
Till may-be to the touch,
to the approach,
to the incantation of the eyes of one,
It burst forth, uncontrollable.