‘Pacific Blue’ song lyrics

May 4, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Scrolling Back, Thoughts

Pacific Blue – From the Dancing with the Moment album

verse 1
Splash in the water head to toephotos to 6-20 090
Make it fast, don’t make it slow
It’s chilly and cool, now
But that’s okay

My little brother has no fear
Watch him swim way beyond the pier
Come back now.  What would Mamma say?

Pacific Blue
Oh, what a view!
Don’t it take your breath away?
Pacific Blue
With nothin’ to do
Messin’ ’round on a summer day

(verse 2)
On a blanket soakin’ up the sun
Drippin’ wet, havin’ fun
Watching the people passing by

Hear the music from the candy shack
The Coasters callin’ ‘Yakety Yak
Hey, pour some ketchup on those fries

Pacific Blue
Oh, what a view!
Don’t it take your breath away?
Pacific Blue
With nothin’ to do
Havin’ fun on a summer day

ooo… ah

Sneakin’ glances at the older girls
An wishing I was in their world
And my every word was really cool

Hear them laughin’ with the boys they meet
They look so fine they smell so sweet
But for now I’ll stay a dreamin’ fool

Pacific Blue…


About the writing of Pacific Blue

The song captures the memory of a summer day in 1958 when my brother, Jimmy, and I walked from our home in Long Beach  to the Belmont Shore Pier to spend the day at the beach. Although we went to the beach many times, this particular visit became imprinted in my mind. All my senses were heightened by the smell of the sea, the coolness of the water, the sound of rock and roll (Yes, Yakety Yak was playing), the aroma of french fries, and by the gorgeous Pacific extending its blue surface to the horizon. It also conjures up the dawn of sexual awakening in my preadolescence. I yearned to be around the shapely ‘older girls;, but was cool with staying put in boyhood for the time being.

Musically, it channels the West Coast harmony sound that we were a part of in the sixties (the Peppermint Trolley Company, Bones, the Faragher Brothers), but also melodically a bit of Sam Cooke and Sarah Vaughn. It features a jazzy chromatic harmonica solo in the bridge.

Love and Harmony
Danny Faragher

Photo by Jeanne Harriott

Manassas Battlefield – a poem

January 17, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Scrolling Back, Thoughts, Uncategorized

Manassas Battlefield


Photo by Bryan Faragher

a forest,
turning red and gold,
keeps solemn watch
in the chill October air

the last vestiges of daylight
begin their retreat from the
rolling field below

high above,
the agitated sky
swirls and tumbles in a
boiling mix of blue and gray

a  row of cannons,
perched on the high ground,
is melting into the dark.
the bronze barrels that once
belched point-blank horror
into a sea of humanity
are now mute
cold to the touch

beneath a green turf
the ground slumbers
but it is the sleep
of the traumatized
the fitful sleep
of the wounded

I  tread softly

on a hot summer day
a century and a half ago
this was the most violent
spot on the planet

under clouds of acrid smoke
young men in itchy wool
clutched their weapons
and marched into this
field… this
valley of death
in the opening act of a
national tragedy

I ponder…

the wound still festers
the divide still stands
the promise of a
‘new birth of freedom’
still a work in progress

I see figures in the distance

beyond the edge of grass
standing in the knee-high straw
an African-American bride and
groom are exchanging vows
she in white dress
he in black tux

the pastor pauses,
closes his book
and looks up
to nod and smile

the man and woman turn
to face one another
and falling into
each other’s arms
they embrace
and plant
a loving




Elvis, a poem in honor of his birthday

January 8, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Scrolling Back, Thoughts


lips in a snarl,
hips a-swiveling,Elvis3
Elvis leaped from the
black and white box and
into the nation’s living room,
bopping and shimmying
like a Mississippi catfish

and in his unassuming
backwoods way
this poor boy
ripped to shreds
that buttoned down,
zipped up facade that posed
as the American dream

to the stick up the ass-
jim crow- bomb obsessed-
are you now or have you
ever been…? world
he proclaimed –
‘let’s get real , real
gone fer a change’

and oh…
did we ever

Thanks, Elvis
Happy Birthday!

January 8, 2016


January 6, 2016 in Coping, Poetry, Reflections, Scrolling Back, Thoughts, Uncategorized


connection cut
but connection still felt
her presence is all around –
the strands of hair in an idle brush,
a smiling snapshot on the dresser top,
a note found stashed in a coat pocket

he roams from room to room
reaching out in vain, trying to
penetrate the empty space
she left behind
the walls mock him with the
echo of his own weeping

grief has no expiration date
it does not diminish or subside, but
flows like an underground stream,young mary fin
carving out new caverns of being
and flooding to the surface now and again
with a startling paroxysm of tears

but the sun rises and sets
life scrolls on
one copes,
learning to live with grief
just as one learns to tolerate
a pain in the joint or
to tune out a ringing in the ears



cry, dark cloud

September 25, 2015 in Coping, Poetry, Scrolling Back, Thoughts

cry, dark cloud
let your tears rain downDark-Clouds-Over-Ocean-Wallpaper
upon me

weep, dark sky
unfold your shroud to
cover my sorrow

sigh, deep, rhythmic sea
exhale your misty breath
against my being
to wash my soul
and comfort me

Singing Our Mother Farewell

October 7, 2014 in Poetry, Scrolling Back, Thoughts, Uncategorized

 Singing Our Mother Farewell

we raised up our voices and held grief at baystock-footage-sunset-on-a-ocean-shore
singing our mother good-bye
siblings united on a sad mournful day
singing our mother good-bye

we sang as we sailed o’er an ocean of tears
singing our mother farewell
and the cries of the sobbing surf played in our ears
singing our mother farewell

we sang ’til the sun disappeared from the sky
singing our mother on home
and angels in heaven could hear our good-bye
as we sang our mother on home



Mary Louise Faragher

Mary Louise Faragher


Big Joe Turner – New Year’s Eve, 1983, Club Lingerie

June 3, 2014 in Poetry, Scrolling Back

 Big Joe Turner – New Year’s Eve, 1983. Club Lingerie

With crutches supporting his giant frame –big_joe_turner-_hamburg_1974_-heinrich_klaffs_collection_86-
The inevitable ravaging of age –
In a slow but steady swing,
Big Joe Turner took the stage.

A hipper-than-hip Hollywood club
Is a long, long way from K.C. town
Where Mr. Turner stoked that fire
Layin’  his solid boogie down.

On a stage where white kids commonly droned
In skin tight jeans and tennis shoes,
Big Joe, sportin’  high waist pants,
Leaned in to the mic to shout the blues.

Like a king on his throne, he took command.
His voice – a  roar from the pit of the soul.
He moaned , he pleaded , he  testified
As the whole joint shook, and rattled, and rolled.

With wicked wink he delivered the line ’bout a
A one-eyed cat in a seafood store
As the  band dug in with a fat back groove,
And the crowd turned wild out on the floor.

With every note he gathered a strength
That rose beyond mere second wind.
The decades seemed to melt away.
The old man became young again.

Oh, we whirled with joy into a brand new year
On the leather of our dancin’ shoes
When Big Joe Turner took the stage,
Closed his eyes, and sang the blues.