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Annie Haslam - Glitter and Dust/Swan Lake
Jun. 17th, 2013 12:57 amBelieve it or not, Renaissance's singer Annie Haslam has a whole album of lyrics set to classical music. This is the only song I've heard so far...
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I Do Love Song Drabble Challenges
Aug. 24th, 2012 03:13 am![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif){kind=small}
writerverse Challenge #36: Earworms and Daydreams(Write stories for the first five songs that shuffle/random brings up on ipod/itunes/etc. and only write for the length of time the song plays.)
Title: She Speaks Like Silence
Word Count: 85
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Hamlet
Pairings (if any): Horatio/Ophelia
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Song: Bridget St. John – Love Minus Zero, No Limit
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Title: Words to Pay the Debt of Silence
Word Count: 51
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Original
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Song: The Monkees – Words
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Title: Pickers and Stealers
Word Count: 103
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Hamlet
Pairings (if any): Hamlet/Rosencrantz/Guildenstern
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Song: Nickelback – How You Remind Me
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Title: Fathers
Word Count: 43
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Hamlet
Pairings (if any): Ophelia/Hamlet
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Song: Jo Stafford – Old Joe Clark
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Title: To Speak of Horrors, He Comes Before Her
Word Count: 111
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Hamlet
Pairings (if any): Ophelia/Hamlet
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Song: Townes Van Zandt – Our Mother the Mountain
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There's no use worrying about the weather outside right now. The spring is coming in sneakily as summer but we have to put up with the rain in between bouts of bright sunshine.
Autumn and winter passed isolated from me in my depressed state. I suppose it helped moving somewhere slightly new. I hope not for a simple circle of seasons now but something more akin to a spiral. Perhaps one with corners that stand out even to my dulled brain.
Without a spark is there anything worth putting down. Of course there is but there needs to be a fire to blaze so strongly that the light and heat must escape somewhere it can leave its mark when the initial flame has died. I'm surprised though to find that I keep finding embers that have not quite died. They invite me to stoke them back to life. It won't be the same fire it was at first but I must remember it will be born from the ashes and will find the fuel the old one failed to find.
Under the lighthouse I've found treasures that make my heart ache for the person who lost them. The door is closed to all who would pry. The window I see high above me is cracked from some unknown trauma inflicted either from the inside or out. Her little sister still lines up after all these years. If I could have only discovered the secrets of the modern Pharos.
I've discovered I cannot function without something on in the background. Radio, audiobooks and music. It has been the same for me since the start when it came to me on cassette tapes that are long gone, even the mystery version of Pandora's story where the horrors of the world had insect wings that fluttered against the box's lid and voices that begged and wheedled to be set free.
My room torments me when it gets into a state and yet it takes me days before I can see a way to cut through the mess. Now I need to teach myself to throw things away. It's hard for me but I must learn this lesson before I start thinking it's a good idea to hang on to real rubbish. But where do I draw the line when I still have scribbled notes for a course I will not be returning to.
And the books. So many books and I'm always buying and borrowing more. Is my stepmum right to despair?
Autumn and winter passed isolated from me in my depressed state. I suppose it helped moving somewhere slightly new. I hope not for a simple circle of seasons now but something more akin to a spiral. Perhaps one with corners that stand out even to my dulled brain.
Without a spark is there anything worth putting down. Of course there is but there needs to be a fire to blaze so strongly that the light and heat must escape somewhere it can leave its mark when the initial flame has died. I'm surprised though to find that I keep finding embers that have not quite died. They invite me to stoke them back to life. It won't be the same fire it was at first but I must remember it will be born from the ashes and will find the fuel the old one failed to find.
Under the lighthouse I've found treasures that make my heart ache for the person who lost them. The door is closed to all who would pry. The window I see high above me is cracked from some unknown trauma inflicted either from the inside or out. Her little sister still lines up after all these years. If I could have only discovered the secrets of the modern Pharos.
I've discovered I cannot function without something on in the background. Radio, audiobooks and music. It has been the same for me since the start when it came to me on cassette tapes that are long gone, even the mystery version of Pandora's story where the horrors of the world had insect wings that fluttered against the box's lid and voices that begged and wheedled to be set free.
My room torments me when it gets into a state and yet it takes me days before I can see a way to cut through the mess. Now I need to teach myself to throw things away. It's hard for me but I must learn this lesson before I start thinking it's a good idea to hang on to real rubbish. But where do I draw the line when I still have scribbled notes for a course I will not be returning to.
And the books. So many books and I'm always buying and borrowing more. Is my stepmum right to despair?
The tears I shed for you were the ones I shed with you. I'll share this with you too, that we were together in spirit and soul as siblings as much as lovers for there were times we were closer than friends but did not consummate that closeness.
The storm carried us away until we were lost, tossed upon the seas, swept up in the waves. Another time I walked in the snow until it was so thick upon the world that I could not distinguish a single landmark or find my way home. I always preferred being lost to knowing every step of the way instinctively.
The water is wide, I cannot get over. Not yet, not without our boat we bought together and row it in harmony until we reach the other side. That oak tree we carved our full names on as children when we played at being engaged for the first time and optimistically double-barrelled our names at 7 and 9 still stands as a testament to the falseness of childhood fantasies of romance.
Sorrow follows me everywhere I choose to wander, dogs my trudging footsteps everywhere I'm forced to flee in the direction of. The sand records my slowing steps for the briefest time as I walk towards the sea. The waves threaten to erase my most recent progress long before they can wash away my old traces that they can use to follow me easily. It is a constant race against the water.
If I can turn back and jump on a train now, I could be somewhere new by nightfall. Somewhere old perhaps. I have not been home in nearly half a decade now, not really home in any sense that I intend to stay there. I can outrun the sunset if I can only catch up to the chugging train.
When I sent our children away, I told you and myself that it was all for their own good. They must learn to fend for themselves. It wasn't even for themselves, not when you really think on it. They got their food and beds and education handed to them. They had it far better than we had ever hoped to. We weren't to know what would happen out there. We weren't to know what would happen over here either. I've called to them at nights countless times. They grow impatient with me. Their voices tell me to hush. They tell me to let them be.
When their apparitions visit me, I am shocked by their filthy faces, clear in the candlelight. They tell me I am imagining it. They are completely clean, they tell me. The rain that pours relentlessly through the hole in the ceiling washes it all away as we stand there. We are all new now. Even you and me.
The children's visits are proof of that. They don't even cry these days.
The storm carried us away until we were lost, tossed upon the seas, swept up in the waves. Another time I walked in the snow until it was so thick upon the world that I could not distinguish a single landmark or find my way home. I always preferred being lost to knowing every step of the way instinctively.
The water is wide, I cannot get over. Not yet, not without our boat we bought together and row it in harmony until we reach the other side. That oak tree we carved our full names on as children when we played at being engaged for the first time and optimistically double-barrelled our names at 7 and 9 still stands as a testament to the falseness of childhood fantasies of romance.
Sorrow follows me everywhere I choose to wander, dogs my trudging footsteps everywhere I'm forced to flee in the direction of. The sand records my slowing steps for the briefest time as I walk towards the sea. The waves threaten to erase my most recent progress long before they can wash away my old traces that they can use to follow me easily. It is a constant race against the water.
If I can turn back and jump on a train now, I could be somewhere new by nightfall. Somewhere old perhaps. I have not been home in nearly half a decade now, not really home in any sense that I intend to stay there. I can outrun the sunset if I can only catch up to the chugging train.
When I sent our children away, I told you and myself that it was all for their own good. They must learn to fend for themselves. It wasn't even for themselves, not when you really think on it. They got their food and beds and education handed to them. They had it far better than we had ever hoped to. We weren't to know what would happen out there. We weren't to know what would happen over here either. I've called to them at nights countless times. They grow impatient with me. Their voices tell me to hush. They tell me to let them be.
When their apparitions visit me, I am shocked by their filthy faces, clear in the candlelight. They tell me I am imagining it. They are completely clean, they tell me. The rain that pours relentlessly through the hole in the ceiling washes it all away as we stand there. We are all new now. Even you and me.
The children's visits are proof of that. They don't even cry these days.
This song has been lodged in my head since I heard a character singing it in an episode of Island at War, so naturally it must be shared. It's a very good series, by the way. It's set in the Channel Islands during the German Occupation (which turned out to be the setting for my NaNoWriMo novel and is the reason I found the series in the first place.) And it also stars Philip Glenister!
Adam McNaughton - Oor Hamlet
Oct. 13th, 2011 02:57 amAdam McNaughton's original
Martin Carthy's version
Martin Carthy's version
Enter Shikari
Oct. 13th, 2011 01:55 amWhen I was at my parents' over the weekend for extended birthday celebrations, the blasting of loud music carried around the house. It's origin was my stepmum's study/art studio. I popped my head round the door to find out what she'd had on. The last time I did this was Easter time and back then she got me into the new Foo Fighters album - Wasting Light- and this time the song was "Sssnakepit" by Enter Shikari.
I've heard bits and pieces from them before, what with them being one of my frighteningly tall little brother's bands and one he would put on when he wrestled control of the ipod dock from my dad for "just one song" on long, not always balmy but often barmy, summer nights of BBQ and chiminea on the garden patio.
This time I think I'm getting hooked. And I heard my Granny Mo absentmindedly singing "Come and join us" as she loaded the dishwasher - proof that the earworm was doing its rounds. :-)
Sssnakepit
( Lyrics: Come and join the party leave anxieties behind When the weight of all the world is pushing down Down on your shoulders...Just push right back! )
Quelle Surprise
( Lyrics: We've got the technology to move forward We've got the knowledge and the means to build upstream We've got the technology to go faster We've got the passion and the talent to make this real )
I've heard bits and pieces from them before, what with them being one of my frighteningly tall little brother's bands and one he would put on when he wrestled control of the ipod dock from my dad for "just one song" on long, not always balmy but often barmy, summer nights of BBQ and chiminea on the garden patio.
This time I think I'm getting hooked. And I heard my Granny Mo absentmindedly singing "Come and join us" as she loaded the dishwasher - proof that the earworm was doing its rounds. :-)
Sssnakepit
( Lyrics: Come and join the party leave anxieties behind When the weight of all the world is pushing down Down on your shoulders...Just push right back! )
Quelle Surprise
( Lyrics: We've got the technology to move forward We've got the knowledge and the means to build upstream We've got the technology to go faster We've got the passion and the talent to make this real )
