Today is Monday, the 29th of December 2025.
Are there really two-thousand-eighteen shades of Bromford, asked eight of the nine little red birds the one other little red bird of the nine.
How could I know?, the one little red bird answered. We have to ask our guru, Twenty-Five, the little tawny owl.
Feels like we are following him for years without even knowing why, the eight sang in a sad little song in the midth of a cold December day.
And then they came back from the ride, whispered one of the bats mysteriously, with the red bird inside and the smile on the face of the tiger.
And Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl? What did he do?
He stared at the horizon quoting Friedrich Nietzsche once more,
“The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude.”
And in all possible secrecy twenty-nine tigers joined the twenty-three lions, the fifteen face-cats, the seven wolves, the thirty dogs, the twenty-two face-monkeys, the fourteen speak-no-evil-monkeys, the six hear-no-evil-monkeys, the twenty-eight see-no-evil-monkeys, the twenty astro-cats, the twelve hipster-cats, the four dragon cats, the twenty-seven hacker cats, the nineteen stunt cats, the eleven ninja-cats, the three pouting cats, the twenty-six crying cats, the eighteen weary cats, the ten kissing cats, the two cats with wry smiles, the twenty-four smiling cats with heart-eyes, the sixteen cats with tears of joy, the eight grinning cats with smiling eyes, the thirty-one grinning cats, the twenty-three spiders, the fifteen scorpions, the seven ladybugs, the twenty-nine bees, the twenty-one ants, the thirty crickets, the twenty-two mosquitoes, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty-six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds, and the one little tawny owl…
🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯
🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯
🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯
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"Bromford In The Wilderness"
Unfinished renaissance masterpiece, the lights low to preserve its grandeur
Uncertain as we listen to a story that could not be stranger
Is it desecration to upgrade potential? Break it into pieces to increase the label
Sell the part that's finished, the rest is wasted, throw in the trash or use it as a table
Reunited, rejoined, reassemblеd, restored
Icon that was quintisectеd is made whole once more
It's made whole once more
A pale face in isolation, unaware he's decapacitated
In another world, another fragment, recognise the pattern, could it be completed?
A challenge to align the segments, solve the puzzle, document the flow
Show your working, assign the regiment, no surprise here, one piece has yet to show
Reunited, rejoined, reassembled, restored
Icon that was quintisected is made whole once more
It's made whole once more
His face is haggard from fasting and penance
His hard eyes determined and defined
His outstretched hand clasping a solid rock
About to beat his brest in penitence
Emotional turmoil, intuitive torment
But is it the story of the subject or the artist?
Reunited, rejoined, reassembled, restored
Icon that was quintisected is made whole once more
Is made whole once more
Is made whole once more
It's made whole once more
Whole once more
Unfinished renaissance masterpiece, the lights low to preserve its grandeur
Uncertain as we listen to a story that could not be stranger
Is it desecration to upgrade potential? Break it into pieces to increase the label
Sell the part that's finished, the rest is wasted, throw in the trash or use it as a table
Reunited, rejoined, reassemblеd, restored
Icon that was quintisectеd is made whole once more
It's made whole once more
A pale face in isolation, unaware he's decapacitated
In another world, another fragment, recognise the pattern, could it be completed?
A challenge to align the segments, solve the puzzle, document the flow
Show your working, assign the regiment, no surprise here, one piece has yet to show
Reunited, rejoined, reassembled, restored
Icon that was quintisected is made whole once more
It's made whole once more
His face is haggard from fasting and penance
His hard eyes determined and defined
His outstretched hand clasping a solid rock
About to beat his brest in penitence
Emotional turmoil, intuitive torment
But is it the story of the subject or the artist?
Reunited, rejoined, reassembled, restored
Icon that was quintisected is made whole once more
Is made whole once more
Is made whole once more
It's made whole once more
Whole once more
"Bromford Bay Blues"
I got the blues when my baby left me down by the Bromford Bay;
An ocean liner came and took her away
I didn't mean to treat her bad, she was the best gal I ever had;
She said good-bye, made me cry
Made me wanna lay down my head and die
Well I ain't got a nickel, and I ain't got a lousy dime?
She don't come back, I think I'm gonna lose my mind
She ever comes back to stay, it's gonna be another brand new day
Walkin' with my baby by the Bromford Bay
Well, I'm sittin' here on the back porch, don't know which way to go;
The gal that I'm so crazy about, she don't love me anymore
Think I'm gonna take a freight train, cause I'm feelin' blue
Gonna ride it to the end of the line, thinkin' only of you
Well I ain't got a nickel, and I ain't got a lousy dime?
She don't come back, I think I'm gonna lose my mind
She ever comes back to stay, it's gonna be another brand new day
Walkin' with my baby by the Bromford Bay
Walkin' with my baby by the Bromford Bay
Walkin' with my baby by the Bromford Bay



St. Jerome, San Francisco
ReplyDeleteTwo saints...
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Bob Dylan - San Francisco Bay Blues