Friday, March 14, 2014

KBYD March 14, 2014


England Part 2 - Working For A Nuclear Free City
Dirty Blonde Blues - Sky Valley Mistress
Pierfront Arcade - Johnny Dangerously
Sugar Tastes Like Salt - The Orielles
Stop The World (Garbage Head Remix) - abandcalledjack
Irregular Choice - DeStijl
Untitled Track 02 - Young Myths
Right As Rain - The Tapestry
Double-Barrelled Shotgun - The Jury
Lone Ranger - Orgone
I'm Alright - B.E.N.
Shiny Things - The Pack AD
I Got The Soul - Wilson Minds
Low Level Hum - The Ten Thousand
Runner - Go Violets
Hot Knife - Fiona Apple
Crash - The Primitives
Trash - The Whip
White Punks on Dope - The Tubes


A Face
by Robert Browning

If one could have that little head of hers
Painted upon a background of pure gold,
Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers!
No shade encroaching on the matchless mould
Of those two lips, which should be opening soft
In the pure profile; not as when she laughs,
For that spoils all: but rather as if aloft
Yon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff's
Burden of honey-colored buds to kiss
And capture 'twixt the lips apart for this.
Then her little neck, three fingers might surround,
How it should waver on the pale gold ground
Up to the fruit-shaped, perfect chin it lifts!
I know, Correggio loves to mass, in rifts
Of heaven, his angel faces, orb on orb
Breaking its outline, burning shades absorb:
But these are only massed there, I should think,
Waiting to see some wonder momently
Grow out, stand full, fade slow against the sky
(That's the pale ground you'd see this sweet face by),
All heaven, meanwhile, condensed into one eye
Which fears to lose the wonder, should it wink.

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