Get all 7 Dale Carl Fredrickson releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Blessed is the Man, On Wounds & Wonder, Healing & Aching, Call & Response, Not Like Mine, Tethered, and Keeping Pulse.
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Blessed is the man
Who has not walked in the counsel of the wicked,
and in the way of sinners has not stood,
and in the seat of scoffers has not sat.
But in the law of YHWH is his delight,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
And he shall be like a tree
planted by the streams of water,
which brings forth its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither;
and all that he does shall prosper.
The wicked are not so,
But are like the chaff which the wind drives away.
Therefore the wicked shall not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.
For YHWH knows the way of the righteous;
but the way of the wicked shall perish.
—Psalm 1 *American Literary Edition (based on the1901 ASV)
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2. |
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It’s the longest night of my life
the winter’s solstice of this year
I’ve felt the scrape of strife
but i’m a hard man with no tears
my dreams are dusty and shallow
the river of imagination dried up
my fields unplanted and fallow
the heart of desire burned out
I’ve been careless and forgotten
liquid apathy I’ve been drinking
i’m miles from compassion
I’ve made this road I’m walking
Blessed is the man
Blessed is the man
Who fails and stumbles
Who learns love is without end
Who is strong and humble
Who feels and finds himself again
Please plant him near the river
Please plant him near the river
As the ancient poem foretold
Please plant him near the river
May peace within him grow
i’ve suppressed my desire for affection
denial and withdrawal my safe high tower
i’ve chased the noose of perfection
and tasted the temptation of fisted power
i’ve felt the kisses of betrayal
the empty presence of wounded men
i’ve buried grief to avoid what’s painful
raging anger fills me again, again
the ones i love the most are victims
my will to grow a trembling amen
the words ‘i’m sorry’ are difficult wisdomk
change doesn’t come easy for hard men
Blessed is the man
Blessed is the man
Who fails and stumbles
Who learns love is without end
Who is strong and humble
Who feels and finds himself again
Please plant him near the river
Please plant him near the river
As the ancient poem foretold
Please plant him near the river
May peace within him grow
it’s time to pour the bottles out
drop all that hasn’t served me well
to give up these confining doubts
to feel each hot tear that falls
please plant me near the river
please plant me near the river
source of courage and devotion
where life begins and ends
where rising love breaks like an ocean
bring me back to life again?
please plant me near the river
i want to feel alive again
i’m a hard man with no tears
Blessed is the man
Blessed is the man
Who fails and stumbles
Who learns love is without end
Who is strong and humble
Who feels and finds himself again
Please plant him near the river
Please plant him near the river
As the ancient poem foretold
Please plant him near the river
May peace within him grow
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3. |
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The burden that buries men
the day of my first bike crash
me all black-eyed,
bruised and needing stitches,
he all beer-breathed and tall
“toughen up,” he insisted.
the day of the championship
i dribbled right then left
bated breath
two seconds left
then shouts of joy
when i scored
the winning shot
but he didn’t show
and never called
words like
proud and well done
he never spoke
words like
i’m sorry
he never wrote
what i wanted from him
were tools he didn’t own
i promised myself
i’d never
be like my dad
i swore
i wouldn’t
follow his steps
live your life
bold hard proud
brazen and
unflinching
man up,
don’t be sorry
his hollow laugh
echos in my head
the burdens
of a father and a son
the gravity
of history
skin & bones
shouldering
this story
he died
with his dried up commitments,
left me
with my root-withering bitterness.
i wear my promise
over my heart
like a medal
i whisper
i’m not like you
over his grave
but i have his skin and bones
and i couldn’t change
tired from work
distant and indifferent
my son teary-eyed and lanky
You forgot to pick me up
and I waited for hours.
seared from his accusation
the realization, a painful truth:
I wasn’t there
when he needed me.
i’m terrified
somehow
i’ve become my dad
my body trembling
eyes low
he’s a warm planet
holding
my burdened body
in his orbit
A baptism
of hot tears
on my neck
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“Women and men alike in our culture spend very little time encouraging males to learn to love. Even the women who are pissed off at men, women most of whom are not and maybe never will be feminist, use their anger to avoid being truly committed to helping create a world where males of all ages can know love. And there remains a small strain of feminist thinkers who feel strongly that they have given all they want to give to men; they are concerned solely with improving the collective welfare of women. Yet life has shown me that any time a single male dares to transgress patriarchal boundaries in order to love, the lives of women, men, and children are fundamentally changed for the better.” bell hooks, “The Will to Change.” pg. 10-11
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On this night, i wonder (Joseph’s questions)
nine months long
i wonder
as the sun falls
behind the hills
as i lay beside you
between us
a cool distance
are we fallen stars
or something else?
nine months long
i wonder
as the sun falls
behind the hills
as i lay beside you
morning sicknesses
your skin stretches
shall we share
one more snack?
while you snore
i smile
are you dreaming
about this unlikely child?
is he a constellation?
even as you sleep
my queen
your face is beaming
will i ever understand?
nine months long
i wonder
as the sun falls
behind the hills
as i lay beside you
am i an icy comet
callous and indifferent?
how have i missed this
sparkling in your eyes
my brave fiancée
have you gifted
the moon a body
the sun a home to rest?
as planets of the universe
hold their breath
how long will you carry
the weight
of light and darkness?
nine long months
i wonder
as the sun falls
behind the hills
as i lay beside you
is your womb
the breaking dawn
a growing universe
of affection?
are you the mother
of creation
where connection
and communion
are born?
is your baby son
a supernova
curving space and time
cosmic dust that unsettles
and outshines?
is he a searchlight
a sunbeam
a light house
that seeks and finds
can he seek and find?
women whose tears never end
men who bury their hearts
the greedy the blood thirsty
the carelessness
of daughters and sons
the ignorance
of kings and kingdoms
will he seek and find
will he seek and find
the wondering ones?
on this night
i wonder
as the sun falls
behind the hills
as i lay beside you
from your body
the newborn is nursing
a mother and a son
sacred lanterns
beautiful ones
will I ever understand?
is knowing you
an act of vulnerability
an exposing of oneself to
a horizon of unknowns
a cosmos that is far and wide
and forever opening?
is this the great mystery:
the more i love you
the more i love this star child
the one who seeks and finds
my eyes are blinded
by promises of wonder
and the beauty of the world?
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Remember the first time
Years of haunting loneliness
of seeking and hiding
of desperate wanting
before thousands
of silent snowflakes
on Larimer street
whirl and twirl
in the light
of the moon.
My hands are reaching
the stitched flowers
on the sides
of your dress
your fingers brush
my cheeks my neck
your lips are kissing mine
your lips are kissing mine
for the first time.
Your warmth is
a brave home
for my tremble.
Through a million acts
of unending vulnerabilities
i want our lips
to say hello and smile again
on our wedding day
late nights and early mornings
labor and delivery
hard conversations
dishes and laundry
brussel sprouts and bacon
change and transitions
everynight i want to kiss you
like the first time
everynight as snowflakes fall
as we grow old
i want to place my hands
on your body and whisper
remember the first time
your lips are kissing mine.
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8. |
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The weight of love (Peter’s story)
i am a storm chaser
i am a raging sea of curiosity
i am a strong wind of passion and action
i’ve built my life on the next catch
marketplace profits and
the mysteries of the sea
my net worth
i keep casting nets
my last payload
i’m a half a lake ahead
don’t ask me to make sense
of my feelings
i am my father’s son
i’m okay
i’m okay
i say over and over
especially when
no one is listening
he was the wind
that cut through
the aroma of dead fish
and seaweed
he said to me
“you are a boulder”
i laughed and burst out
“one who sinks”
he smiled and said
“i hope so”
“not today” i threw back
his friendship is a full sail
a snapping wind of discomfort
a smooth breeze of rest
he is the surging waves
unsettling my sailing seas
he called me a ‘rock’
i’m treading water
i’m afraid of drowning
i’m scared of losing
what keeps me afloat
my anchors of small-minded prejudice
my closed fists of comfort and confidence
II.
when they came to sink him
with their snares
their unreflective fears and
raging need for conformity
i raised my voice
‘you are not taking him’
your ear for my heart
my hands shake my sword falls
again and again
i’m caught by the words
of his net
my promises are hot air rising
my words are snagged wings
and my ears have rocks in them
the powers that be shouted
‘sedition’ and ‘blasphemy’
an us versus them blindness
anger and violence
they tore apart his body
they tore apart his body
they tore apart his body
as i watched rubbing my eyes
with trembling lips i said
“i don’t know him
i don’t know him
i don’t know him”
three times leave me alone
i’m just like them
i am a shipwreck
my ears are ringing
i am a coward
i am a castaway
my name is petrified
there’s no time for grieving
i’m going fishing
III.
on the shoreline
of shattered seashells
and broken starfish
the risen one called
“hey boulder” he said
my heart’s in my sandals
i’m sinking with everyone
who feels the weight
of swords wielded
of promises broken
of mistakes and betrayals
with anointing oil on his lips
over a simple breakfast he asked
“do you love me?
do you love me?
do you love me?”
three times infinity
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9. |
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The weight of love (A song of praise)
the weight of love
upends the earth
the place of death
a great rebirth
hallelujah (4x)
drowning men
can feel within
silenced women
speak again
hallelujah (4x)
all the pride
and apathy
awakens
now to empathy
hallelujah
hallelujah
under the weight
a river’s crossed
through the pain
and tempest toss
the risen one
has found his sinking
daughters and sons
hallelujah
hallelujah
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10. |
10. You chose love
02:51
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you chose love
you chose love
and
the pain that swells
through the rivers
of your body
the ache that throbs
on the shores
of your mind
is the proof
you dove and crashed
in an unpredictable ocean
and the grief that flows
to the bones
is the witness
you are learning
that this is love
to be tossed
by the undercurrents
of compassion and feel
the anguish of others
to be moved
by the peculiar
waves of grace
and taste
the gritty salt water
to stand
under a sky
of mystery
and receive
as a gift
the constellations
you suffer because you care
you suffer because you care
you suffer because you care
an ocean of love
grows within you
your internal
is the groundswell
of the eternal
your body
is the tide
of God’s affection
you are learning
that love is a baptism
an immersion of self
into the murky depths
clothed with nothing
but prayer and presence
and a simple hope
that you can bless
the life of another
on the great horizon
your heart’s compass is set
where the sun and moon
kiss the waters edge
where everything belongs
where no one is alone
you
are
alive
because you chose love
sing
and sink
and sail again.
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11. |
11. My beautiful boy
03:47
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My Beautiful Boy
My beautiful boy,
masculinity is not
a bumper sticker
of cliché’s
but an epic poem
that you must
write and rewrite.
i need to say to you:
don’t settle
for the comfort
of easy answers.
People will try
to box you in
and stifle the air
you breathe.
Life as a caged bird
breeds anger,
resentment,
and apathy.
Your mom and i
want more for you:
caged birds
are not free.
II.
My beautiful boy,
everything worthwhile
is uncomfortable.
Compassionate integrity
requires great effort.
i need to say to you:
don’t settle
for the comfort
of easy answers.
Some crown anger
and condone
male violence.
Remember you’re storied
into a current of history
where to feel alive
the muscles
of your body
must learn
when to resist
and when to rest.
Feel the winds of change
trade your cage for wings
and become
a flesh and blood eucharist.
III.
My beautiful boy,
i won’t always be here
your hands
the tiny fingers
i have held
for 13 years
are slipping
from mine.
i need to say to you:
with great passion
and action
with two measures
of tenderness
empower
the breathe and clay
of your body
to be a eucharist with wings
give and receive
nurture deep connections
break and bless
live with the questions.
Blessed is the man
blessed is the man
my beautiful boy
who writes his story
who finds his strength
through mountains and seas
of vulnerable love.
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12. |
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Blessed is the One
Blessed is the One
Who fails and stumbles
Who learns love is without end
Who is strong and humble
Who feels and finds themselves again
Please plant them near the river
Please plant them near the river
As the ancient poem foretold
Please plant them near the river
May peace within them grow
--Dale Carl Fredrickson
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Dale Carl Fredrickson Denver, Colorado
Dale is a poet from Denver, Colorado. He’d like to inspire the entire world but finds that inspiring himself and his family and friends is work enough. He writes and speaks about beauty and misery and his favorite story is the one about how love surprises us in the end. He fails a lot. On his best days, he lives by Samuel Beckett’s motto, “Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” ... more
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