Tularosa Sunrise - Opus 14 - A Song

Tularosa Sunrise at Sunset – A Song

A New Dimension

Tapping my toes
I hear the wind whisper
Bring out the castanets
Slap the drums
Slip on my skirt with ribbons
Turn up the music
Move my body
Move my soul
Move my mind
To a new dimension.

Clack, clack. stamp
It’s a heel, it’s a toe
Castanet’s burn
Running a gypsy rift
Through my puritan child
Open to another side
Of humanness
Move my touch
Move my heart
To a new dimension

Run up stairwells
Cars squeal on turns
Parking structures fracture
With the crackle of castanets
Borderless sound
Spanish spices
A Gypsy guitar
Fan tremolos
Move my ears
To a new dimension

Slide down hallways
Spinning in layers
Kaleidoscope colors
I’m illegal in fiesta
An imposter
With castanets
Telling tales
In rhythms
That move me
To a new dimension.

© Catalina 2008

Cathleen and Chris!

“Music, of all the liberal arts, has the greatest influence over the passions, and it is to which the legislator ought to give the greatest encouragement.”
Napoleon Bonaparte

Rose-a-lee

Rose-a-lee sang.

rat ta ta tat
rat ta ta tat
tat tat ta tu

skuba bim bong
socka poka dim
rama rama lop chop
sopa hopa topa top
mama hippy doo…

Skipping over the rough spot in the road Rose-a-lee stumbled, caught herself, fell forward, leaned back, stopped, rolled her eyes and shouted, “ Hi Hoppa!” At that moment, a horned toad scrambled in a slow, side to side waddle to the dry grass on the edge of the gravel road. Rose-a-lee caught a glimpse of the horned toad as she swayed on the threshold of balance. Her giant shadow engulfed the tiny prehistoric survivor. He froze in the eclipse. Rose-a-lee reached out and grabbed the tawny toad. She swung upright and held him up to her face to get a close look.

Rose-a-lee sang.

tanka tanka rah rah
socka bimba doo
sawka sawka ratch ee
moma moma rue…

“Ooo la la, you handsome, tawny toad, let’s dance.” Rose-a- lee clutched the horned toad in her right hand, hopped two stones, then she sat down on an old stump. Directly, across the road from the stump, stood a road runner. His head bobbed a bit then he stood still. He stared at the scaled toad now lying in Rose-a-lee’s lap. Rosa-a-lee stroked the tiny toad head. She whispered “Tonka, that’s your name, you’re mine, forever mine”.

Rose-a-lee sang.

Racka rocka rumble
Kicka kanga bang
Socko blimp blimpa
Loppa doppa klang…

High above circled a hawk of giant proportions as Tonka saw it. He shriveled into his own skin. He was happy to find Rose-a-lee. He loved to dance. She did too. He could feel her rhythm in her songs. He couldn’t wait to dance again. At that moment, the road runner ran lickety split to the other side of the road for a closer look. Surprised Rose-a-lee pulled her skirt up over Tonka to hide him. The hawk circled again then swooped down. He perched on a rock on the other side of Rose-a-lee. He hoped to get a closer look at Tonka. Everyone wanted the same thing. Each one wanted a closer look, to be close to Tonka. Each wanted the same thing with a different intent. Rose-lee wanted a dance partner. The road runner wanted a race he knew he could win. The hawk wanted lunch.

Rose-a-lee sang.

Ringa ronga bongo bink
Simpa upa ding dong
Fropa sinko eepee wop
Clinga kropa fing fong…

Rose-a-lee soused it out. She jumped up, danced a jig, ran thirty yards with the road runner out in front, grabbed two huckleberries from a bush and tossed them to the hawk. Rose-a-lee and Tonka were satisfied, they had their dance. The road runner was happy, he won his race. The hawk was mollified, he had his lunch. Crunch, crunch, the hawk was quick. A thief with expert skill, he grabbed Tonka when everyone else was feeling pleased. No guard, he stole Tonka. He flew higher and higher until he disappeared. Rose-a-lee ran back down the road crying. She disappeared over a low hill. The road runner ran in circles then straight down the road, in the other direction, in a blur. One feather floated down from the big blue and settled on the stump. Slowly the sun dipped. Sunset filled the open sky.

Ciao!

Cathleen and Chris!

"Music and rhythm find their way into the secret places of the soul...Musical innovation is full of danger to the state, for when modes of music change, the laws of the state always change with them."
Plato

Flamenco on Tularosa

Ticka, tacka, ticka, tacka, shoes are moving to the feet, sliding on and over, buckling the straps. Hold on to your hair! The Flamenco way to start your day! It all starts with the shoes. They have a life of their own and they capture your feet and your heart and you're in. That's Latin life for you. Rich with spine tingling music that moves you in the morning. Nothing else like it. Viva!! Old young, advanced, beginner - it doesn't matter. Everyone is an artist when you wear the clapping shoes. They take you over from toes to crown and all the space in between dances with a pulse that is irresistible. The gypsy in each of us that only gets attention when it's dressed in bright colors and striking the floor with hard heels. Ole. Brew the coffee strong, put on "Malo,Malo" and get going. It's better than blues for a blast off gypsy king kind of day.

Ciao!

Cathleen and Chris!