ruff arrows

[wytchcroft]

arrows and stars (in progress)

intro/outro:


and all the shadows
every doubt
all the silence
every shout

dim the lights around the house

and blow those candles out

we're leaving.

…………………….

space:

10 x the dawn
alpha centauri
red shrouds the morning
the glittering minutes

nebulae

necklace and warning
counting those beads
1,2,3
 
all the birds and their beaks
beta centauri
fabulous and full we
climb like ivy to the sky
we climb like ivy to the sky

comets and clusters
matter and dust
reeling in the moments
hear that wild music float

UB313
DW2004
10 x the dawn

alpha orionis
betelgeuse
venus
neptune and all

we climb like ivy
we wrap our limbs around it all
10 x the dawn

chasing the stars

till we fall.

…………………………..

grace:

like a diamond in the rough
an earring in the rug

a wild black poppy in the wood
a wild black poppy in the mud 

and the crazy man stands
where the arrow lands 

and his face
promises grace

and ophelia wades 
out into the waves
out into the stream
out into the signal
and the rising frequency

out into the waves

grace

………………………

reggae song 23.000 (The Astrologer's Daughter)

i used to hang with an astrologer's daughter
curious to know what that life had taught her
i mean, how would you cope
when your dad makes his living giving horoscopes?

we hate a date
it was 1978
the weather was muggy
and there were thick brown clouds,
you couldn't see for toffee
through the thick brown clouds
the colour of coffee

typical, oh typical - yeah isn't it just?
not exactly the right kind of night for astrology
it was a bit of a bust

not one of her father's stars was shining
not of her father's stars was tearing up the sky

all the same we tried
hand in hand and standing
together on the roof
almost romantic

and nobody claiming
to have a monopoly on the truth

then sooner or later it was morning
all that bleary routine;
nicotine - uh huh uh huh
caffeine - uh huh uh huh
getting up for work
you know the scene

trying to find some music
i heard her dad on the radio
and i was thinking "uh-huh uh huh
oh here we go
i bet he sounds like a jerk."

so i listened to the father
of the astrologer's daughter
listened to him chatter on that radio
and what i heard

was the warmth in his words

as they sprayed way out beyond the earth
and the dirty
atmosphere

out into a darkness rarefied and clear

out into space
out into space

between the whirling planets and the satellites
all them winking lights

he was answering a caller
with an anecdote about school yeah
and he said "you know i love my daughter,
i love my daughter very much
it's true
i love my daughter very much
it's true..."

sounded like he meant it too.

so now i can't help but wonder
what is she supposed to do?
just exactly what is she supposed to do?

but i guess if there's one thing
that life has taught her
it's that it's very strange to be

an astrologer's daughter

i mean it must be strange
to be an astrologer's daughter

.............................

piano song (my blue heaven)

and so i went today
to that old coastal slate gray
where our shadows used to play
but the sea, but the sea, but the sea
had washed it all away

and if the wind cries your name
it does it somewhere else
somewhere miles away 

memories are made of this
the ghosts of chances that we miss
tied in a bundle and sealed with a kiss
wrapped in paper
like fish and chips

greasy tea and a petrol smell
looking for my blue heaven
all the way to hell

peering through the plastic windows
walking round the clifftop track
picking up trinkets that get left behind
no/one ever goes back

and there's a little monkey sitting
over my guitar
sometimes you have to wonder
how you let it get that far

and my blue heaven
is bagged up in the rain
an old steam whistle between the trees
and gone again

wrapped in a moment
and gone again

and there's no reason
and there's no blame
end of the season
tired of the game

there's no distance
kill it in the fade
there's no love
no love betrayed

there were two shadows dancing
but they're not today
and my blue heaven
is just an old old song
that i've forgotten how to play.

and it's a cold blooded morning

they teach the band to play

 ............................

and it's love

and it's love again
flashing so bright
like a new moon shining
from the back of a coin
and we're watching it dance
we're watching it dance

away into the dark

oh tiny light
light my heart
light my heart

for i'm the dead and you're the quick
i'm the candle, you're the wick
and we are one in the space between
the magic and the trick
that holy place where there is no
cynicism

and it's love again
the familiar clatter
of an old refrain

and if we throw wide
if we miss the mark
if our arrows find no answer
but the dark

if we stumble, if we fall
and the stars double back
to attack

we don't have to worry about it
for we are gone in the instant between
the magic and the trick
a click of the fingers
a flick of the wrist
sends us dancing
away
 
and it's love again.

....................
this is all very rough but useable enough i think
there are a couple of songs/lyrics in this lj that i might use as well
and some fragments have been nicked from earlier bits.
the main idea here is using fragments and scraps found on paper and tape some of which are 20 years old. it's a collaboration between 'me' and 'them' the prior self who feels a very separate personality to me in the now. which is all very pretentious i'm sure - but im finding it to be an interesting process.

chalissa, THANK YOU!:)))

Comments

[betsycontent.livejournal.com]

my goddess, nic, how did i miss these?! they're fabulous! some of the best lyrics i've ever read. thanks for the treat! i will be reading them again and again. you did good. :)))

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

i don't have the words to adequately thank you for such a lovely comment... i'm very touched/moved and relieved/grateful all mixed together!!:))

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

this comment - i'm still taking a lot of heart from it, you know :))

[betsycontent.livejournal.com]

i'm so happy to be able to lend you encouragement -- you writing truly deserves the praise, and is such a joy to read. i love the complexity that is you. :)))

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

your generosity of spirit is wonderful! :))