of words, pictures and the arts


Delivering the Thursday Poem with Mark Raffills

Your father and your namesake
for Justin Townes Earle

Justin Townes Earle was an alt country/rock singer, the son of Steve Earle and named after Earle’s friend, the late Townes van Zandt. Like his father and his namesake, Justin was blessed with the music and released some wonderful albums, among them the break-through Harlem River Blues. But like his father and his namesake, he was also hounded by the addiction of alcohol and drugs and a troubled state of mind. Justin Townes Earl died of a drug overdose last month, August 2020. Another singer lost to the song. Video by Dr Jeff Obadiah Simmonds.

The Thursday Poem17 September 2020Your father and your name sakefor Justin Townes EarleJustin Townes Earl was an alt country/rock singer, the son of Steve Earle and named after Earle’s friend, the late Townes van Zandt. Like his father and his namesake, Justin was blessed with the music and released some wonderful albums, among them the break-through Harlem River Blues. But like his father and his namesake, he was also hounded by the addiction of alcohol and drugs and a troubled state of mind. Justin Townes Earl died of a drug overdose last month, August 2020. Another singer lost to the song. Video by Dr Jeff Obadiah Simmonds. Words below.Your father and your name sakefor Justin Townes EarleSeems you couldn’t shake them, the namesthat birthed your crooked soul and hammeredsign posts on the twisted road that called andcalled and wouldn’t let you go until you stumbledand fell out of sight, around the bend on thathighway that runs without end.And I found you by those very same names,singing sad songs on my turntable, while themoon battled the stars to throw light through thecarpet of cloud that hung low over your heart, thatstung your eyes with the tears of a thousand glassesof bourbon and powder, white as snow.You were looking for a spark from the flint of destiny,you were asking for forgiveness in the Harlem riverblues, you were broken long before your drug overdosemade the morning news and all those drunken,bastard boy-friends your mother bedded down, couldnever take his place when your father left the town.How is it that we know these things that carveour destiny and steel our fate in the same bentchord and languid harmony that runs againstthe river’s rage and how is it that we are drowningin the driving rain, hammered by the hurricane untilour breath is just a whisper, fading from an angel’s lips.Mark Raffills

Posted by Mark Raffills on Wednesday, September 16, 2020

 



Delivering the Thursday Poem with Mark Raffills