Burst – Salman’s Coffee Made of Flame



Salman’s Coffee Made of Flame


Oh dear I have a large coffee

And a spinning head full of thee

And red earphones and a book

Some silky words and a killer hook


This is what I think

When I am deep in drink

This is where I am today

On a cold, wet rainy day


First up, I see you Arcade Fire

My Canadian friends of iron

I want to steal your songs

I want to seal them in a bong

And then I want to smoke them up

Until I am so full I throw up

Because your music is a pantomime

A spruce-smelling carnival of shine

If I took your notes and tones

I’d rule the world from your Montreal home

I’d run around the streets singing high

There’d be greatness even in trying


Oh Regine Regine Regine!

Dancing in your dress of gold gleam!

Singing about mountains and the world so small

And the endless hedge rows around our Sprawl

I don’t know if your voice is the best

But I know that your music is blessed

Tell Wim he is a god of made of maple leafs

And you are a princess of golden disbelief


I wonder, though, my dear canuck criers

If you’re as good as The Moor’s Last Sigh

I know that generally a fatwah is a bad thing

But Mr. Rushdie, you earned your death sentence bling

I’d like to call you literate, but words are a dress

That you extract from a mash potato of mess

I do not understand quite how you make words so sublime

That I hear music when I read your lines

With respect, Mr. Rushdie, please don’t die

Because you are the supreme weaver of lies

Try to eat healthy, exercise when you can

And finish that ultimate novel, my marked man


Oh hey Mr. Rushdie one other advice for you

Go see Arcade Fire at a concern soon

I want you to steal their music too

And bring it into words blue as balloons

That would be a confluence of cosmic proportion

A reality-busting explosion of ether extortion

Goodness gracious me to see the words and music lock

A cinnamon burst in every single thought

These are dreams we dream of art

To give respect to those set apart

Weavers and dreamers, the same thing or more

The wanderers and the soulful, bringers of lore

This is the stuff that we can be

The stuff taken from stars and made real



If you have not heard of the Arcade Fire…  many have, I know, but just in case…  please have a look.  They are something else.

Arcade Fire:

Sprawl: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ab2DDmwYVQw&playnext=1&list=PLD8DDE07706C85D9F&feature=results_video

(this is the Regine in the gold dress bit)

Wake Up:


Rebellion (Lies):


Dream hard, rage hard.

35 thoughts on “Burst – Salman’s Coffee Made of Flame

    1. Honestly, I started writing an ode to the left testicle, but this is what came out instead. Probably for the better if you ask me. I am breaking my own rule and listening to music while writing, so you know, buzz buzz buzz, hum hum hum.

      1. Hey–it worked. Part of my prompt today was to listen to a piece of music, or anything with a rhythm, and then write, and that is where my horror movie piece came from. What ever possessed me to pick that piece of music to write something to? Heh. Anyway–I loved this and glad you did not follow your own advice.

              1. You are lucky this is one of those days lewin…i’m letting you off easy. count your blessings my brother

              2. Dear sister Americano, thank goodness for getting off the hook. However, I hope the day is looking up.

    1. I saw that. I’m sorry sir that I don’t really know much about this edge of frog, but will check it out. Thanks much.

  1. trent.. I enjoyed this very much and I enjoyed the links to the music as well. Glad you are ahem, humming along this morning. Thank you for your thoughts on my blog this morning as well. You are on fire today

    1. Thanks Audra… I didn’t know that was your name actually. Glad you liked the music, these guys are Canadian through and true geniuses. Always a pleasure reading your stuff… Trent

  2. what language is she singing? why you frenchies all want to sound like us is beyond me. don’t you know any french words? seriously tho…yeah, sing it to me in french. (they are pretty darn good, sure they are from up north?) and….may rushdie feel your lips on his butt before he dies…seriously, he’d be thrilled.

    1. It would be my distinct honour to lay a wet one on Mr. Rushdie’s presumably hairy behind before (or possibly even after, should circumstances permit) his demise. By the way, dear american, it’s called english. Not american-english, but proper english. Get used to it already. Look, I am still somewhat reeling from your last post, I’m feeling raw and a bit vulnerable at the moment, so sue me. Oh wait, that’s probably the wrong thing to say to a yank isn’t it.

      1. lol…you are sooooo fucking lucky canada. I’m in a place to love my fellow man today because if i wasn’t i’d be on the evening news as one of those psyco bitches who went on a spree…so, for now, my only spree is imbibing in my 3rd cup of Earl Grey. I owe ya one, or two if you count the other comment i gave you a pass on. bless you and yours mon frere…one day the north and south shall meet and become friends…’til then…pepe le pew says watch out

        1. Hey man you’re already my friend and southern belle sister. Hope the night treats you well.

  3. Reading the comments in here is pretty entertaining in itself! Great poem, must check out your muse. Haven’t had the pleasure before.

  4. They are one of my favorite bands. No, Regime’s voice is not the best, but her energy is irreplaceable. She and Win have a modern day love story. You can see it in the way they look at each other. I favor Regime in some ways–looks wise.


    That’s one of my favorite Arcade Fire songs, although I do love so many of them. Awesome poem. I am glad you are a fellow fan. I would love to see them live.

    1. Check out Saturday Night Live version of Sprawl. If a sane man or woman does not fall in love with Regine after that, they are dead to the world. She is a goddess of music and energy and just sheer undeniable sparkle and light. I love that these guys are Canadian, honestly, and from a town I used to live in. Love em love em love em.

      1. She does have light pouring out of her. I even like the weird/funny faces she makes while on stage. And I love the little sparkly-party dresses she wears while banging out the drums. She is my kind of beautiful.

        Maybe I will write a poem about her.

        1. Yeah totally. Total goddess, funny faces and weird dance moves and all, she is totally her own person and doesn’t care to be anything else as far as I can tell, and that’s just awesome. Regine Regine Regine, a poem about her would be awesome M.

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