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Daydream Journal

Post 4161


smiley - rofl Yes, Nigel! I'm relying on you. The residents of Exeter will appreciate it.

Daydream Journal

Post 4162


Four hour wait to view Richard III's coffin.

Daydream Journal

Post 4163


I think all this is good for the city of Leicester. Exciting really, good for the kids to learn the history. And great for tourism!

smiley - redwine

My history isn't good.

I've never even read Shakespeare's Richard III.

The Bard would have been a bit confused that the King's body was eventually discovered under a carpark in Leicester.

He wouldn't have known what a carpark is. smiley - rofl

Daydream Journal

Post 4164

Dmitri Gheorgheni

smiley - laugh Don't read that play. It's propaganda for the Tudors, anyway. Richard III is a cardboard villain in that. Read the Guide Entry instead. A573950 And Galaxy Babe's on the carpark business: Find it at A87787273.

Daydream Journal

Post 4165



smiley - redwine

I'd better read the h2g2 Guide Entries instead then. smiley - rofl You know where you are with a h2g2 Guide Entry.

Daydream Journal

Post 4166

Dmitri Gheorgheni

Of course, you could check out Patrick Doyle (the composer) doing HIS version of the opening of 'Richard III':

Doyle's from Glasgow, I think - he's always turning up doing bit parts in Kenneth Branagh's movies. I think it keeps him out of their hair while he's getting ideas for the movie score. smiley - rofl

He sings better than he acts:

Daydream Journal

Post 4167


Patrick Doyle!

The singing is lovely. Makes me go all melty.

That's hilarious, the Richard III opening with the accent. smiley - rofl

Daydream Journal

Post 4168

Dmitri Gheorgheni

Doyle - great singer, great composer. smiley - smiley

You know he composed this one, right?


Daydream Journal

Post 4169


Here's a silly little poem sort of thing ... no context, I hope it evokes some images and ideas:


How strange it is to find myself,
Among you, my liberators, how frail,
My teachers, how fleeting you are.
One of you I am now, for a time yet more fleeting,
And yet I shall cherish this, guard it,
Keep it in memory, when you all are dust.

A body small and weak, and yet
Containing a vast destructive power.
The greater power I yet lack,
The wisdom, the courage,
The discipline, to hold it in check.
I went too far. I am but a rash youth.
You were saved in spite of my efforts to save you.

The day shall come that you will understand me.
All I am is a genuine being,
Having attained harmony.
Dark and light, I welcome both,
And I live each moment
on the cusp of ecstatic intensity.

In everything there is beauty and joy,
meaning and mystification.

Daydream Journal

Post 4170


It's not silly, Willem, it's thought provokingsmiley - applause

It's one of those poems where the meaning remains just out of one's grasp. I'm not sure I want to ask for explanations.

If you want any crits, the only suggestion I have is to take out one or two commas.

Daydream Journal

Post 4171


Morning all! Doyle's music is amazing. He's such a great singer and composer. It really does make me go melty.

smiley - musicalnote

So melty in fact that I had to play out my thoughts on meltypad yesterday. What? smiley - huh There's a setting on my synth called meltypad.

smiley - musicalnote

Richard IIIs funeral is today, in Leicester Cathedral. Quite strange, like time travel, but not really.

I'm still trying to get my head around the history, who believes what. Funny thing, before all this, I thought Shakespeare was beyond reproach, almost like some kind of godlike poet. However, learning that his play of Richard III was perhaps a bit politically dodgy, or at least exaggerated, makes me feel a bit disappointed, or something.Perhaps I shouldn't be disappointed, I should learn about the role of playwright in those times.

Ho hum, all in the mix. Good to think about it all, and learn things.

smiley - musicalnote

I had the strangest dream last night, perhaps telling me that thinking about history isn't my strongest academic achievement. smiley - rofl

There was a dusty track leading through an industrial estate. I was travelling fast along it in an old pick up truck with some other people, I don't know who. We turned left into some kind of forecourt where there were all these tractors and diggers and things. It looked like a regular industrial forecourt, but there was something significant about it, a magnetism, like a power spot or sacred site. I can't remember the details though. Damn. Why don't I ever remember the whole point of the dream? smiley - rofl.

Later on I was compelled to revisit the forecourt by bike, on my own, and discovered a little stone building nearby, with all these people in a room talking excitedly. There were ancient stone objects on display, like a museum, or chapel. I realised that the people knew about the significance, and I talked with a lady named Penny about it all. She even gave me her card, smiley - rofl. Then I realised that I was late for something and tried to leave, but I took ages to pack my bike panniers, and realised I had packed odd sandals, like, a different sandal for each foot. smiley - rofl

Which showed that I wasn't prepared for the journey. Very significant.

smiley - coffee

Holy stars, smiley - star, looks like Willem is dancing with the Muse. Not that he ever doesn't of course. smiley - artist

I shall consider this marvel later on today, when I have more time.

smiley - run Amazing. I love all the thoughts and poems and wonders that fluuter in here. smiley - kiss

Daydream Journal

Post 4172


The Star Dragon! How fascinating! Did you write this from a dream, Willem, or did it just appear? I am always fascinated by peoples' creative impulses.

smiley - artist

I love the cryptic meaning, I'm good with cryptic meanings because I tend make my own meanings anyway. I feel that, in this case, I have poetic license to obscure the original meaning with my cluttery fluttery pictures. smiley - rofl.

I very much enjoyed the picture that came to me. My initial image, after reading, was of a little dragon emerging from a luminous egg, and he was all sticky, like a baby bird. The shining egg was floating in space, and as it cracked open, rays of light come out of it. The little fella emerges from the light and flies around on sticky wings, amongst the stars.

smiley - star

As to his origins, or reasons to incarnate, well, it looks like he's attained some kind of awakened state, I wonder what it means that he went too far? I like the cusp of ecstatic intensity. Perhaps he's experimenting with the earthiness of birth. I feel he's a kindly little chap, a traveller, he's had a few knocks. I'm calling him he. Perhaps he's a she, a girlie dragon. Perhaps he/she incorporates all genders, as if he's a symbol, a thoughtform.

I wonder what his/her name is?

smiley - dragon

Daydream Journal

Post 4173

Dmitri Gheorgheni

Perhaps it's a secret, like the Doctor's?

Enjoyed both the poem and the exegesis. smiley - smiley

smiley - dragon

Daydream Journal

Post 4174


Good word, exegesis.

smiley - redwine

Daydream Journal

Post 4175


Hi folks! Glad you liked it. Cactuscafé, it's a sort of failed attempt at writing lyrics ... I just jotted down some thoughts and then saw it was going nowhere. But anyways the idea I had was that it was about a scene from one of my stories where a very recently born little dragon turns into a human for a short while and then almost kills his friends because he can still breathe fire and causes an explosion.

Daydream Journal

Post 4176


Hullo Willem! I love your little dragon! Ah, now I understand his story.

Dragons are interesting aren't they? smiley - dragon Their status as a legendary creature seems to run through many cultures.

I think they must come from the collective unconscious. Personally. Funny how our brain creates such images.

smiley - dragon

Do you write lyrics to set to music?

I'm interested in lyric writing, and the different ways that people go about it.

I tend to be particularly attracted to song lyrics that mean nothing yet everything, and mixed with the music, they somehow become a curious mantra for one's life.

I know that David Bowie, and Thom Yorke from Radiohead have both used the cut up technique to write their songs, like, mixing up their own fragments.

And then there's Karl Hyde from Underworld, ahhh heaven, electronic dance beat with wild poetic lyrics that mean nothing yet everything.

I could go on about lyrics. smiley - rofl

smiley - coffee

But I won't.

At the moment.

And then there's the world of misheard lyrics, that's really funny. Songs that one has been listening to for years, and sung along with, only to find that the lyric is something else entirely. smiley - rofl. There are entire music magazine articles and websites devoted the subject.

I wonder has anyone here experienced this?

smiley - coffee

Like, one of my favourite songs is St Valentine, by Joe Ely.

I would sing the line .... 'he said it wasn't his, it was only a Renault'.... for years. smiley - musicalnote

I never did get the Renault bit, but didn't think much of it. smiley - rofl. It was part of the soundtrack of my life.

Of course the lyric is 'rental' not Renault. smiley - rofl

'Saint Valentine drove a red Continental
With a headlight out and a dent in the side
He said it wasn't his; it was only a rental
But he drove it every single night'

Quote Joe Ely. St. Valentine

smiley - musicalnote I love that song so much, even without the Renault. smiley - rofl

Daydream Journal

Post 4177


I'm not really talking about lyrics. smiley - rofl. smiley - coffee

The song called Pink Rabbits by The National is one of my favourite songs ever. It is musically perfect (to me), and the lyric writer and singer, Matt Berninger, is the master of surreal poetic lyrics.

And there's a line in that song, that I misheard for months. smiley - rofl.

In fact, I had an entire story built up around it, in my head.

I would sing along to the line, ah that poetry ....

smiley - musicalnote I only think about our sadness when the sand kicks up. smiley - musicalnote

Ahhh a perfect soundtrack to the story. In the photograph there's the beach. The sadness. The pathos. The actress mother in a beautiful dress. The summer breeze. The cloudscape. The kid playing in the sand.

smiley - huh

That's part of the story. Which I can't really describe.

Especially now, as I discovered that the lyric is, in fact,

smiley - musicalnote 'Now I only think about Los Angeles when the sun kicks out' smiley - musicalnote

Quote The National, from Pink Rabbits.

smiley - coffee

Much better lyric really. smiley - rofl. I'll just have to change the story.

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