Dylan the Welder

I wrote and posted the following poem back in 2013 when I heard about Bob Dylan's projects of turning scrap pieces of metal into iron gates. It struck me as the perfect metaphor. I am reposting it here upon learning of Dylan's most recent and largest welding project: 

Here's to the subterranean fires and the luminous eye of Bob Dylan!  ~ CK

 

Dylan the Welder*

Bob Dylan is a welder

Taking words

That have been scattered

Abused

And misused

And putting them through the fires

Of humanity’s forge.

It takes a hot pen

To bind mythic thoughts to modern ways;

And a fiery riff

To weld common chords to forsaken phrases,

Fashioning a memorable song of love or theft or ruin.

It takes a spark that was lit by subterranean fires

To ignite the passions

Of a restless generation

Until they gather on the streets

Or courthouse lawns

Or the National Mall

To sing of how many roads.

It takes the fire of human consciousness

Erupting without summons or awareness

To fashion songs that can

Shake a tambourine

Survey a watchtower

Foretell a hard rain

Or catch a slow train.

It takes old embers

To join hands with

Woody

Blind Willie

Hattie Carroll

And the sad-eyed lady.

It takes new fire

To speak to the hopes of a young woman

In a world that is spinning

Or the dreams of an old man

When shadows are falling.

Bob Dylan is a welder

Fashioning new gates

From worn-out words,

Burning old hopes

Onto new frames.

It takes ancient fire

To fashion timeless tales

Of joy and struggle,

And a luminous eye

To forge a song that is true.

                              ~ Charles Kinnaird

*The inspiration for this poem came from an online article telling about how Bob Dylan keeps welding supplies at his home in Malibu where he creates iron gates from scrap pieces of metal. Some of his welding work has been on display at London’s Halcyon Gallery.

(photos by John Shearer via Daily Mail)



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Dylan the Welder

I wrote and posted the following poem back in 2013 when I heard about Bob Dylan's projects of turning scrap pieces of metal into iron gates. It struck me as the perfect metaphor. I am reposting it here in honor of his upcoming 80th birthday.

Here's to the subterranean fires and the luminous eye of Bob Dylan!  ~ CK

 

Dylan the Welder*

Bob Dylan is a welder

Taking words

That have been scattered

Abused

And misused

And putting them through the fires

Of humanity’s forge.

It takes a hot pen

To bind mythic thoughts to modern ways;

And a fiery riff

To weld common chords to forsaken phrases,

Fashioning a memorable song of love or theft or ruin.

It takes a spark that was lit by subterranean fires

To ignite the passions

Of a restless generation

Until they gather on the streets

Or courthouse lawns

Or the National Mall

To sing of how many roads.

It takes the fire of human consciousness

Erupting without summons or awareness

To fashion songs that can

Shake a tambourine

Survey a watchtower

Foretell a hard rain

Or catch a slow train.

It takes old embers

To join hands with

Woody

Blind Willie

Hattie Carroll

And the sad-eyed lady.

It takes new fire

To speak to the hopes of a young woman

In a world that is spinning

Or the dreams of an old man

When shadows are falling.

Bob Dylan is a welder

Fashioning new gates

From worn-out words,

Burning old hopes

Onto new frames.

It takes ancient fire

To fashion timeless tales

Of joy and struggle,

And a luminous eye

To forge a song that is true.

                              ~ Charles Kinnaird

*The inspiration for this poem came from an online article telling about how Bob Dylan keeps welding supplies at his home in Malibu where he creates iron gates from scrap pieces of metal. Some of his welding work has been on display at London’s Halcyon Gallery.

(photos by John Shearer via Daily Mail)



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Bob Dylan: Nobel Laureate

The announcement came yesterday that Bob Dylan is the recipient of the 2016 Nobel Prize in Literature. Some are saying, "What?" while others are saying "Yes!" How do I feel about it? On this day, I think I can do no better than to offer a tribute to Dylan's words that I wrote back in November of 2013 and actually re-posted this past summer (do you think my blog post might have influenced the Swedish Academy's decision?).

Here's to the subterranean fires and the luminous eye of Nobel Laureate, Bob Dylan.

Dylan the Welder

Bob Dylan is a welder

Taking words

That have been scattered

Abused

And misused

And putting them through the fires

Of humanity’s forge.

It takes a hot pen

To bind mythic thoughts to modern ways;

And a fiery riff

To weld common chords to forsaken phrases,

Fashioning a memorable song of love or theft or ruin.

It takes a spark that was lit by subterranean fires

To ignite the passions

Of a restless generation

Until they gather on the streets

Or courthouse lawns

Or the National Mall

To sing of how many roads.

It takes the fire of human consciousness

Erupting without summons or awareness

To fashion songs that can

Shake a tambourine

Survey a watchtower

Foretell a hard rain

Or catch a slow train.

It takes old embers

To join hands with

Woody

Blind Willie

Hattie Carroll

And the sad-eyed lady.

It takes new fire

To speak to the hopes of a young woman

In a world that is spinning

Or the dreams of an old man

When shadows are falling.

Bob Dylan is a welder

Fashioning new gates

From worn-out words,

Burning old hopes

Onto new frames.

It takes ancient fire

To fashion timeless tales

Of joy and struggle,

And a luminous eye

To forge a song that is true.

                              ~ Charles Kinnaird

The inspiration for this poem came from an online article telling about how Bob Dylan keeps welding supplies at his home in Malibu where he creates iron gates from scrap pieces of metal. Some of his welding work is now on display at London’s Halcyon Gallery.

(photos by John Shearer via Daily Mail)



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Flashback: Dylan the Welder

While I'm involved in another project, I am re-posting some of my favorite blog entries. This one is from November 20, 2013.

Dylan the Welder*

Bob Dylan is a welder

Taking words

That have been scattered

Abused

And misused

And putting them through the fires

Of humanity’s forge.

It takes a hot pen

To bind mythic thoughts to modern ways;

And a fiery riff

To weld common chords to forsaken phrases,

Fashioning a memorable song of love or theft or ruin.

It takes a spark that was lit by subterranean fires

To ignite the passions

Of a restless generation

Until they gather on the streets

Or courthouse lawns

Or the National Mall

To sing of how many roads.

It takes the fire of human consciousness

Erupting without summons or awareness

To fashion songs that can

Shake a tambourine

Survey a watchtower

Foretell a hard rain

Or catch a slow train.

It takes old embers

To join hands with

Woody

Blind Willie

Hattie Carroll

And the sad-eyed lady.

It takes new fire

To speak to the hopes of a young woman

In a world that is spinning

Or the dreams of an old man

When shadows are falling.

Bob Dylan is a welder

Fashioning new gates

From worn-out words,

Burning old hopes

Onto new frames.

It takes ancient fire

To fashion timeless tales

Of joy and struggle,

And a luminous eye

To forge a song that is true.

                              ~ Charles Kinnaird

*The inspiration for this poem came from an online article telling about how Bob Dylan keeps welding supplies at his home in Malibu where he creates iron gates from scrap pieces of metal. Some of his welding work is now on display at London’s Halcyon Gallery.

(photos by John Shearer via Daily Mail)



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Dylan the Welder

Dylan the Welder*

Bob Dylan is a welder

Taking words

That have been scattered

Abused

And misused

And putting them through the fires

Of humanity’s forge.

It takes a hot pen

To bind mythic thoughts to modern ways;

And a fiery riff

To weld common chords to forsaken phrases,

Fashioning a memorable song of love or theft or ruin.

It takes a spark that was lit by subterranean fires

To ignite the passions

Of a restless generation

Until they gather on the streets

Or courthouse lawns

Or the National Mall

To sing of how many roads.

It takes the fire of human consciousness

Erupting without summons or awareness

To fashion songs that can

Shake a tambourine

Survey a watchtower

Foretell a hard rain

Or catch a slow train.

It takes old embers

To join hands with

Woody

Blind Willie

Hattie Carroll

And the sad-eyed lady.

It takes new fire

To speak to the hopes of a young woman

In a world that is spinning

Or the dreams of an old man

When shadows are falling.

Bob Dylan is a welder

Fashioning new gates

From worn-out words,

Burning old hopes

Onto new frames.

It takes ancient fire

To fashion timeless tales

Of joy and struggle,

And a luminous eye

To forge a song that is true.

                              ~ Charles Kinnaird

*The inspiration for this poem came from an online article telling about how Bob Dylan keeps welding supplies at his home in Malibu where he creates iron gates from scrap pieces of metal. Some of his welding work is now on display at London’s Halcyon Gallery.

(photos by John Shearer via Daily Mail)



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