Six Days Grace

This is my wife’s ticket for the Trade Centre, from when she went to the top of one of the twin towers just six days before the terrorist attack.

Six days.

It’s like playing Russian roulette with the calendar.

Remembering all of those who were there that awful day.

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To Dolores, From Limerick, With Love

I can’t believe it’s a year since I posted about the sudden death of Dolores O’Riordan, lead singer of the Cranberries. This first anniversary was marked today by the release of the song All Over Now, which comes from the album In The End, an album for which Dolores had recorded final demo-stage vocals for. The three surviving band members honoured Dolores with the finishing of the album, confirming it will be the group’s final one.

Another honouring was this video that I found online. Dolores was from Limerick, in Ireland, and Limerick artists of every genre came together to record a version of the Cranberries song When You’re Gone. It’s a diverse and moving tribute from her fellow hometown musicians.

The sofa features in the video as a reference to one that appeared on several Cranberries’ album covers.

I decided to also include the original Cranberries video at the bottom of the post, the initial inspiration. It was played at the end of the singer’s funeral last year.

R.I.P Dolores.

(He)art of the City

In the wake of the Arena bomb, the city drew the creatives to itself, as though, in some act of self-healing catharsis, beauty was brought to counter the ghastly.

Along the city’s highways, and especially in St Anne’s Square which was fast becoming the focus for the people’s outpouring of grief and defiance, artists could be seen hunched over easels and pavement flagstones, etching hearts, bees and other symbols of resilience onto the bones of her wounded body.

Even now, on the eve of the anniversary, we turn to art to express our deepest responses.

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In the wake of the Arena bomb, musicians could be found playing the music of their fellow Mancunians; recognisable core DNA transmuted through classical, reggae and ballads of bleeding. Mourners broke vigils with spontaneous outpourings of adopted anthems.

Even now, on the eve of the anniversary, we quote the words of some of her favourite sons.

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Tomorrow is twelve months. The healing goes on.

 

 

 

The conception of ‘(He)art’ was created by my fellow blogger Laura Bruno Lilly. http://laurabrunolilly.com/blog/

Sleep On, Lizard King

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Wow, I’m sick of doubt

Live in the light of certain

South

Cruel bindings

The servants have the power

Dog-men and their mean women

Pulling poor blankets over

Our sailors

I’m sick of dour faces

Staring at me from the TV Tower

I want roses in

My garden bower, dig?

Royal babies, rubies

Must now replace aborted

Strangers in the mud

These mutants, blood-meal

For the plant that’s ploughed

They are waiting to take us into

The severed garden

Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful

Comes death on a stranger hour

Unannounced, unplanned for

Like a scaring over-friendly guest you’ve

Brought to bed

Death makes angels of us all

And gives us wings

Where we had shoulders

Smooth as raven’s claws

No more money, no more fancy dress

This other Kingdom seems by far the best

Until its other jaw reveals incest

And loose obedience to a vegetable law

I will not go

Prefer a Feast of Friends

To the Giant family

The Severed Garden-James Douglas Morrison