No Way Out but Through

After long winter, giving each other nothing, we collide with blossoms in our hands. by Chiyo Chiyo (1703-1775) was a Japanese poet of the Edo period, a Buddhist nun, and widely regarded as one of the greatest poets of haiku (then called hokku). After Long Winter is one of the best haiku ever written. Period. Translated by David Ray. This piece originally appeared in The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters episode. Featuring: Susan Kay Anderson, Glen Stohr, Curt Hopkins, Richard La Rosa, and Maren Euwer. Words and music ©2021 by Scott Taylor, unless otherwise noted. Transcript can be found at scott-taylor.co

The Playlist: Thanks W.S. Merwin's ThanksOnce Self Portrait David Whyte The Sleep of Reason The Sleep of ReasonFeaturing Maren Euwer, Glen Stohr, Richard La Rosa, and Curt Hopkins.Hellenism We live in is a field filled with sunlight The exact moment when the echo of a city Collapsing dies away Curt HopkinsHellenism,After Long Winter ChiyoAfter Long WinterFeaturing Susan Anderson, Glen Stohr, Curt Hopkins, Richard La Rosa, and Maren Euwer.Kindness Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. Naomi Shihab Nye is a poet, songwriter, and novelist. Krista Tippet's interview on her podcast is excellent. As 2020 rolled by, and I tried to get my head around the whole thing, trying to address it somehow in terms of my podcast, the idea of working with collaborators was finally what inspired me to get some work done again Thanks so much to said collaborators: Maren Euwer Glen Stohr Richard La Rosa Curt Hopkins, The Dog Watches Susan Kay Anderson, Mezzanine Words and music ©2021 by Scott Taylor, unless otherwise noted. Transcript can be found at scott-taylor.co

Kindness is the second single from my upcoming podcast episode, The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, and an amazing poem by Naomi Shihab Nye. The Transcript can be found here

Once is the first single from my podcast episode, The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters. Once Once I was in love with my future. It was lit like a Japanese city. My life was charmed. I got into fistfights I turned on a dime. I was fiercely optimistic. I was the luckiest man alive. Once, I was shot out of a canon, I landed on the moon, I killed seven with one blow, I balanced ten torpedoes on the tip of my tongue like a sailor. The future was up for grabs, The past was simply a benign ghost living in the back of my head. Then one night, the gods had had enough and manufactured a monster to distress my every dream. Soon the days muddled into months. Was I half asleep or half-awake? No sound was distinct. All the colors on the wheel ran together into a bleak, unlovely gray. Now, a complete disappointment, I let down my guard, and gave up the ghost. I was surprised to find myself eager for doom. The Future reared up for a final foray, but changed its mind. It came inside, and stayed inside. Once I felt certain the Future would make the Past pay. It would shove its face into the mud until it whimpered, and slinked off into the dark woods forever. Once, I saw the moon disappear like it had been deleted. Once, as per your request, I dreamed a little dream of you. Words and music © 2021 by Scott Taylor More at Scott Taylor's cover is blown

Excerpted from Separation Energy It is also included in my upcoming book, October. October 20th The temperature has dropped, the constructs have vanished, and the woman the lab assistant’s been seeing will not return his calls. He shakes his head, saying, The tensile strength of the bridge cables will not hold if the vibration continues at these unprecedented levels. How will it continue to function, he wonders, if the party in power channels her resources towards some candidate of unknown potential? Only the victim, he says, ear to the ground, will know and only after speech has failed him already.

This is excerpted from Episode 4: Separation Energy Sweet Darkness by David Whyte When your eyes are tired the world is tired also. When your vision has gone, no part of the world can find you. Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own. There you can be sure you are not beyond love. The dark will be your home tonight. The night will give you a horizon further than you can see. You must learn one thing. The world was made to be free in. Give up all the other worlds except the one to which you belong. Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.

This is excerpted from Episode 4: Separation Energy When Death Comes By Mary Oliver When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? And therefore I look upon everything as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility, and I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular, and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence, and each body a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth. When it's over, I want to say all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it's over, I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don't want to end up simply having visited this world More on Mary Oliver 1935-2019

Lines to a Poet by Josephine Jacobsen Be careful what you say to us now. The street-lamp is smashed, the window is jagged, There is a man dead in his blood by the base of the fountain. If you speak, You cannot be delicate or sad or clever. Some other hour, in a moist April, We will consider similes for the budding larches. You can teach our wits and our fancy then; By a green-lit midnight in your study We will delve into your sparkling rock. But now at dreadful high noon You may speak only to our heart, Our honor and our need: Saying such things as, “See, she is alive . . . “ Or “Here is water,” or “Look behind you!” Josephine Jacobsen (19 August 1908 – 9 July 2003) was a Canadian-born American poet, short story writer, essayist, and critic. She was appointed the twenty-first Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress in 1971.[2] In 1997, she received the Poetry Society of America’s highest award, the Robert Frost Medal for Lifetime Achievement in Poetry. More about her here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/josephine-jacobsen Music and performance ©2020 by Scott Taylor

A performance of Lawrence Ferlinghetti's great poem I am Waiting—excerpted from episode 4: Separation Energy. Music and performance by Scott Taylor ©2020. Listen to the whole show here: Separation Energy

Stories, poems, and monologues with music for that special sheltering-at-home time of your life. 1. Messages (Taylor): A woman sends messengers into the afterworld 2. Sweet Darkness (David Whyte): Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own. There you can be sure you are not beyond love. 3. Cosmodemonic (Taylor): If you want to speak to a human being who will sympathize and empathize, someone who will actually listen to you and help you to solve your problems, please press 9 now 4. I am Waiting (Lawrence Ferlinghetti): I am waiting for the American Eagle to really spread its wings and straighten up and fly right. . . and I am waiting for a reconstructed Mayflower to reach America with its picture story and tv rights sold in advance to the natives 5. Separation Energy (Taylor): How will it continue to function, he wonders, if the party in power channels her resources towards some candidate of unknown potential? 6. When Death Comes (Mary Oliver): When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut . . . © 2020 Words and Music by Scott Taylor, unless otherwise noted. Transcript can be found at scott-taylor.co Poetry credits: Sweet Darkness by David Whyte I am Waiting by Lawrence Ferlinghetti When Death Comes by Mary Oliver SFX Credit Attribution: Latin Elevator Muzak by achase4u/Pond5 Phone, internal, ring, standard by bigroomsound/Pond5

An excerpt from Episode3: Matter The Race is On (after George Jones, with inspiration from Tom Durkin and Larry Collmus) ...Now on the back stretch, Happily Married is leading along the rail followed by Is This All There Is Stuck in the Middle with You is three lengths back it’s still Happily Married, Is This All There Is, and here comes Late Night at Work, now Attractive Secretary is making her move, is This All There Is has moved in front of Happily Married, Attractive Secretary is looking good, it’s Late Night at Work, How About a Nightcap, it’s Instant Fires, and then Drunken Evening, Happily Married has fallen off the pace, It’s Attractive Secretary and now Red Camaro is coming on hard... Words and music © 2020 by Scott Taylor Transcript at Scott Taylor's cover is blown

An excerpt from Episode 1: Past Tense The Past Comes Calling The past is the pitcher who does not bother backing you off the plate with high heat but simply throws at your unhelmeted head. The past is the catcher who kicks you in the nuts while you’re sprawled out on the ground. The past is the umpire who laughs, and calls you out. Words and music © 2020 by Scott Taylor Transcript at Scott Taylor's cover is blown

Imagine yourself in the middle of a world-destroying catastrophe. Now imagine that we have a short quiz for you. It won’t take but a minute. The world is a dusty, dark chaos, and the trap our unreliable narrator finds himself in, gets more dire as the story goes on. Agents Angstrom and Kinski find themselves in a different kind of trap—and due to a lack of budget, and thus, vocal talent, poor Kinski doesn’t even get a speaking part. An announcement that the hit show Arena is returning to the air tonight to answer the question, “What Happens After We Die?” Then The Race is On—with apologies to George Jones, Tom Durkin, and Larry Collmus. And finally, a poem about life, the universe, and everything. A warning for the wary listener: everyone dies in this one. Words and music © 2019 by Scott Taylor Transcript at Scott Taylor's cover is blown SFX Credit Attribution: Horses Racetrack, Montevideo, Uru provided by sounddogs/ Pond5 Horse Racing Crowd Cheering At End Of Flat Race provided by soundsvisual/Pond5 Race Track Crowd, Gates Open provided by ProSoundEffects/Pond5 Horse Race Meeting Crowd provided by jfxsound/Pond5 War Drums provided by jmac713/Pond5 Wind Desert Sand provided by clacksfx/Pond5 Rain hitting roof provided by quietswede/Pond5

A chance meeting at the airport, a serious case of misplaced empathy, and an obsession that destroys everything. This show is actually Episode 0. It was originally recorded in November 2018, and released on my YouTube channel. Because of the feedback I received—and the fact that I had a great time making it—I decided to change gears and develop No Way Out but Through. Words and music © 2019 by Scott Taylor Transcript at Scott Taylor's cover is blown

A psychic finds a strange piece of metal with a map brought back from her dreams. Scott draws some questionable conclusions about the present, based on serial misreadings of his own past. A town reacts to long-awaited infernal signs. The Past is your permanent crazy ex who knows all your passwords—and secrets—by heart. From the radio desk, Scott suggests a weekend activity for the kids at the Armory, involving art and knives. He then gives a quick update about last week's freak eclipse. And finally, a time-travel caper. Words and music © 2019 by Scott Taylor Transcript at Scott Taylor's cover is blown