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Sunday, December 3, 2017

ELEVATOR GIRL ( with one GRAIL HISTORY mysteriously attached attached)



(1)ELEVATOR GIRL - This is about as close as Johnny Rock and the Mainstreet Band got... to recording a pop record. These guys were jazz players, so they had no problems with the complex rhythms. With my hard-edged rhythm guitar strokes set on treble, the pop song idea went out the window.  

"Too much calypso in it!"  Clayton laughed, "For pop."


2) ELEVATOR GIRL: Especially with that taste of Jamaica in the rhythms. Anyway, I like the song... It's so unpretentious. The song says what it means and means what it says. At any rate, it's not so serious!
(C) 2017 by W.G. Milne All rights reserved.
Hope you like it.

Cover photo-art is by KLGE


writer and singer of the song is W.G. Milne

 To see more song details please see the


  WILLIAM MILNE CHANNEL on You Tube

   for this and other Johnny Rock and the Angels songs.

    This song is recorded by JOHNNY ROCK AND THE 

     MAINSTREET BAND.




*********************************************************************************************************************************************************







see below - a history of the Holy Grail, which somehow landed here.






























I'm doing an article called: "NOTIONS OF THE HOLY GRAIL" which I'll post soon.

Below is a Catholic History of the Grail - which I did not write.
The copyright is in the name of the author. I use this as source material only, among other sources. Somehow it got transferred here. So why fight it?

 My article to be is on a quite different theme.



Copyright © 2012 by Kevin Knight. Dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.





The name of a legendary sacred vessel, variously identified with the chalice of the Eucharist or the dish of the Pascal lamb, and the theme of a famous medieval cycle of romance. In the romances the conception of the Grail varies considerably; its nature is often but vaguely indicated, and, in the case of Chrestien's Perceval poem, it is left wholly unexplained.
The meaning of the word has also been variously explained. The generally accepted meaning is that is given by the Cistercian chronicler Helinandus (d. about 1230), who, under the date of about 717, mentions of a vision, shown to a hermit concerning the dish used by Our Lord at the Last Supper, and about which the hermit then wrote a Latin book called "Gradale." "Now in French," so Helinandus informs us, "Gradalis or Gradale means a dish (scutella), wide and somewhat deep, in which costly viands are wont to be served to the rich in degrees (gradatim), one morsel after another in different rows. In popular speech it is also called "greal" because it is pleasant (grata) and acceptable to him eating therein" etc. The medieval Latin word "gradale" because in Old French "graal," or "greal," or "greel," whence the English "grail." Others derive the word from "garalis" or from "cratalis" (crater, a mixing bowl). It certainly means a dish, the derivation from "grata" in the latter part of the passage cited above or from "agréer" (to please) in the French romances is secondary. The explanation of "San greal" as "sang real" (kingly blood) was not current until the later Middle Ages. Other etymologies that have been advanced may be passed over as obsolete.
When we come to examine the literary tradition concerning the Grail we notice at the outset that the Grail legend is closely connected with that of Perceval as well as that of King Arthur. Yet all these legends were originally independent of each other. The Perceval story may have a mythical origin, or it may be regarded as the tale of a simpleton (French, nicelot) who, however, in the end achieves great things. In all the versions that we have of it, it is a part of the Arthurian legend, and, in almost all, it is furthermore connected with the Grail. So the reconstruction of the original Grail legend can be accomplished only by an analytical comparison of all extant versions, and is a task that has given rise to some of the most difficult problems in the whole range of literary history.
The great body of the Grail romances came into existence between the years 1180 and 1240. After the thirteenth century nothing new was added to the Grail legend. Most of these romances are in French, but there are versions in German, English, Norwegian, Italian, and Portuguese. These are of very unequal value as sources, some are mere translations or recasts of French romances. Now all of these romances may be conveniently divided into two classes: those which are concerned chiefly with the quest of the Grail, and with the adventures and personality of the hero of this quest; and those that are mainly concerned with the history of the sacred vessel itself. These two classes have been styled respectively the Quest and the Early History versions.
Of the first class is the "Conte del Graal" of Chrestien de Troyes and his continuators, a vast poetic compilation of some 60,000 verses, composed between 1180 and 1240, and the Middle High German epic poem "Parzival" of Wolfram von Eschenbach, written between 1205 and 1215, and based, according to Wolfram's statement, on the French poem of a certain Kyot (Guiot) of Provence, which, however, is not extant and the very existence of which is doubtful. To these may be added the Welsh folk-tales or "Mabinogion" known to us only from manuscripts of the thirteenth century, though the material is certainly older, and the English poem "Sir Percyvelle," of the fifteenth century. Of the Early History versions the oldest is the metrical trilogy of Robert de Boron, composed between 1170 and 1212, of which only the first part, the "Joseph d'Arimathie," and a portion of the second, the "Merlin," are extant. We have, however, a complete prose version, preserved in the so-called Didot manuscript. The most detailed history of the Grail is in the "Grand St. Graal," a bulky French prose romance of the first half of the thirteenth century, where we are told that Christ Himself presented to a pious hermit the book concerning this history. Besides these versions we have three French prose romances, also from the thirteenth century, which, though concerned chiefly with the quest, give also an account of the history of the sacred vessel. Of these the most notable is the "Queste del St. Graal," well known to English readers because it was embodied almost entire in Malory's "Morte d' Arthur." The others are the so-called "Didot Perceval" or "La petite queste" and the lengthy and prolix "Perceval le Gallois," also known as "Perlesvaus."
The poem of Chrestien, regarded by many as the oldest known Grail romance, tells of Perceval's visit to the Grail castle, where he sees a Graal borne in by a damsel. Its accompaniments are a bleeding lance and a silver plate. It is a precious vessel set with jewels, and so resplendent as to eclipse the lights of the hall. All the assembled knights show it reverence. Mindful of an injunction not to inquire too much, Perceval does not ask concerning the significance of what he sees, and thereby incurs guilt and reproach. Undoubtly Chrestien meant to relate the hero's second visit to the castle, when he would have put the question and received the desired information. But the poet did not live to finish his story, whether the explanation of the Graal, offered by the continuators, is that which Chrestien what the Graal signifies; in his version it has no pronounced religious character. On the other hand, in the Early History versions it is invested with the greatest sanctity. It is explained as the dish from which Christ ate the Paschal lamb with his disciples, which passed into possession of Joseph of Arimathea, and was used by him to gather the Precious Blood of Our Saviour, when His body was taken from the Cross. It becomes identified with the Chalice of the Eucharist. The lance is explained as the one with which Longinus pierced Our Lord's side, and the silver plate becomes the paten covering the chalice. The quest in these versions assumes a most sacred character, the atmosphere of chivalric adventure in Chrestien's poem yields to a militant asceticism, which insists not only on the purity of the quester, but, in some versions (Queste, Perlesvaus), on his virginity. In the "Queste" and "Grand St. Graal," moreover, the hero is not Perceval but the maiden-knight, Galaad. But the other knights of the Round Table are made to participate in the quest.
The early history of the Grail is intimately connected with the story of Joseph of Arimathea. When he is cast into prison by the Jews, Christ appears to him and gives him the vessel, through which he is miraculously sustained for forty-two years, until liberated by Vespasian. The Grail is then brought to the West, to Britain, either by Joseph and Josephes, his son (Grand St. Graal), or by Alain one of his kin (Robert de Boron). Galaad (or Perceval) achieves the quest; after the death of its keeper the Grail vanishes. According to the version of the "Perlesvaus" Perceval is removed, no one knows whither, by a ship with white sails on which is displayed a red cross. In the Guiot-Wolfram version we meet with a conception of the Grail wholly different from that of the French romances. Wolfram conceives of it as a precious stone, lapsit exillis (i.e. lapis or lapsi ex caelis?) of special purity, possessing miraculous powers conferred upon it and sustained by a consecrated Host which, on every Good Friday, a dove brings down from heaven and lays down upon it. The angels who remained neutral during the rebellion of Lucifer were its first guardians; then it was brought to earth and entrusted to Titurel, the first Grail king. It is guarded in the splendid castle of Munsalvaesche (mons salvationis or silvaticus?) by itself and nourished by its miraculous food-giving power.
The relationship of the Grail versions to each other, especially that of Chrestien to those of Robert de Boron and the "Queste," is a matter of dispute. Nor is their relative chronology certain. But in all these versions the legend appears in an advanced state of development, the preceeding phases of which are not attested by literary monuments, and therefore, can only be conjectured. The origin of the legend is involved in obscurity, and scholars are divided in their views on this point. An Oriental, a Celtic, and a purely Christian origin have been claimed. But the Oriental parallels, like the sun-table of the Ethiopians, the Persian cup of Jamshid, the Hindu paradise, Cridavana, are not very convincing, and Wolfram's statement, that Kyot's source was an Arabic manuscript of Toledo, is open to grave doubt. It is different with the Celtic story. There are undoubtly Celtic elements in the legend as we have it; the Perceval story is probably, and the Arthurian legend certainly, of Celtic origin, and both of these legends intimately connected with the quest story. Talismans, such as magic lances and food-giving vessels figure prominently in Celtic myths and folk-tales. According to this theory the "Mabinogion," with its simple story of vengeance by means of talismans and devoid of religious significance, would yield the version nearest to the original form of the legend. Back of the quest-story would be some pre-Christian tale of a hero seeking to avenge the injury done to a kinsman. The religious element would then be of secondary origin, and would have come into the legend when the old vengeance-tale was fused with the legend of Joseph of Arimathea, which is essentially a legend of the conversion of Britain.
Those who maintain the theory of a purely Christian origin regard the religious element in the story as fundamental and trace the leading motifs to Christian ideas and conceptions. It is derived from the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus, which is known to have had a great vogue in the twelfth century, paricularly in Britain. There we read how Joseph, whom the Jews had imprisoned, is miraculously fed by Christ Himself . Additional traits were supplied by the "Vindicta Salvatoris," the legendary account of the destruction of Jerusalem. Furthermore, Joseph was confused with the Jewish historian, Josephus, whose liberation by Titus is narrated by Suetonius. The food-producing properties of the vessel can be explained, without resorting to Celtic parallels, by the association of the Grail with the Sacrament of the Eucharist, which gives spiritual nourishment to the faithful. The purely Christian legend which thus had arisen was brought into contact with the traditional evangelization of Britain, and then developed on British soil, in Wales, and thus the Celtic stamp, which it undeniably bears, is accounted for. In connection with the legendary conversion of Britain it is noteworthy that the literary accounts of this event are connected with the famous Abbey of Glastonbury, which is also intimately associated with the legend of Arthur, Glastonbury being identified in William of Malmesbury's account with the mythic Avalon. So scholars are inclined to connect this British sanctuary with the origin of the Grail romances. Possibly Walter Map, who died as Archdeacon of Oxford in 1210, and to whom is ascribed the authorship of a Grail-Lancelot cycle, got his information from that abbey. The first Grail romances was then probably written in Latin and became the basis for the work of Robert de Boron, who was an English knight under King Henry II, and a contemporary of Chrestien and of Map.
The fully developed Grail legend was later on still further connected with other legends, as in Wolfram's poem with that of Lohengrim, the swan-knight, and also with that of Prester John, the fabled Christian monarch of the East. Here also the story of Klinschor, the magician, was added. After the Renaissance the Grail legend, together with most medieval legends, fell into oblivion, from which it was rescued when the Romantic movement set in at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The most famous modern versions are Tennyson's "Holy Grail" in the "Idylls of the King" (1869), and Wagner's music-drama, the festival-play, "Parsifal," produced for the first time at Bayreuth in 1882.
A word as to the attitude of the Church towards the legend. It would seem that a legend so distinctively Christian would find favour with the Church. Yet this was not the case. Excepting Helinandus, clerical writers do not mention the Grail, and the Church ignored the legend completely. After all, the legend contained the elements of which the Church could not approve. Its sources are in apocryphal, not in canonical, scripture, and the claims of sanctity made for the Grail were refuted by their very extravagance. Moreover, the legend claimed for the Church in Britain an origin well nigh as illustrious as that of the Church of Rome, and independent of Rome. It was thus calculated to encourage and to foster any separatist tendencies that might exist in Britain. As we have seen, the whole tradition concerning the Grail is of late origin and on many points at variance with historical truth.
The "Queste" was edited by Furnivall, "La Queste del Saint Graal" (Roxburghe Club, London, 1864), also the Grand St. Graal under the title "Seynt Graal or the Sank Ryal", etc. (Roxburghe Club, London, 1861-63). The Perlesvaus is in Potvin's edition of Chrestien, I (Mons, 1866); the Didot Perceval in Hucher, "Le Saint Graal" (Le Mans, 1874-78). Robert de Boron's poem was edited by Michel, "Le roman du St. Graal" (Bordeaux, 1841), Malory's "Morte D'Arthur" by Sommer (London, 1889-91), and the Perlesvaus rendered into English by Evans, "The High History of the Holy Grail" (London, 1898). (See WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH.)


About this page

APA citation. Remy, A.F.J. (1909). The Holy Grail. In The Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Company. Retrieved December 3, 2017 from New Advent: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/06719a.htm
MLA citation. Remy, Arthur F.J. "The Holy Grail." The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. 6. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1909. 3 Dec. 2017 <http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/06719a.htm>.
Transcription. This article was transcribed for New Advent by Joseph P. Thomas. In memory of Hattie Ratajezak.
Ecclesiastical approbation. Nihil Obstat. September 1, 1909. Remy Lafort, Censor. Imprimatur. +John M. Farley, Archbishop of New York.
Contact information. The editor of New Advent is Kevin Knight. My email address is webmaster at newadvent.org. Regrettably, I can't reply to every letter, but I greatly appreciate your feedback — especially notifications about typographical errors and inappropriate ads.

Copyright © 2012 by Kevin Knight. Dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.















Friday, December 1, 2017

LYRICS TO VISIONS OF JOHANNA - BOB DYLAN



VISIONS OF JOHANNA

Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet? We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our best to deny it And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin' you to defy it Lights flicker from the opposite loft In this room the heat pipes just cough The country music station plays soft But there's nothing, really nothing to turn off
Just Louise and her lover so entwined
And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind
In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key chain And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the "D" train We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight Ask himself if it's him or them that's insane Louise, she's all right, she's just near She's delicate and seems like the mirror But she just makes it all too concise and too clear That Johanna's not here The ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place
Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously And when bringing her name up He speaks of a farewell kiss to me He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hall How can I explain? It's so hard to get on And these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn
Inside the museums, infinity goes up on trial Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues You can tell by the way she smiles See the primitive wallflower freeze When the jelly-faced women all sneeze Hear the one with the mustache say, "Jeez, I can't find my knees" Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel
The peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him Sayin', "Name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him" But like Louise always says "Ya can't look at much, can ya man?" As she, herself, prepares for him And Madonna, she still has not showed We see this empty cage now corrode Where her cape of the stage once had flowed The fiddler, he now steps to the road He writes ev'rything's been returned which was owed On the back of the fish truck that loads While my conscience explodes The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain
Una Forsyth 

SAILING BEYOND THE HORIZON ACROSS THE CAYMAN TRENCH


      Facing the virgin page is a bit like setting out in any direction in a sailboat... And you're going to let the wind decide what direction you're taking.
       And the wind picks up around dawn and the birds have started singing and the sweetness of Jamaica grasses are behind you on the wind.
      This day I was heading north at a brisk pace because the wind was from the south-east and
the light boat was skipping across the waves. Ten minutes later I looked across the stern and I could no longer see the island.
      I had crossed the horizon. I was beyond the horizon.
      And this can be a little spooky if you know what's underneath you. I was riding over the Cayman Trench, a place where the ocean is six miles deep.
        I had never dived into the Cayman Trench but I had skirted the edges of it. Beyond the second reef north of Mammee Bay, the ocean floor drops away like the tilt of the biggest mountain you have ever seen. The bottom drops away into the darkness.
        At my first sighting of this horrendous yet beautiful descent, I had no urge to go any deeper. I was afraid, and I don't like admitting this, but my first impulse was to flee.

         Similar to this, you never know what you're going to write.



(C)2017 by W.G. Milne

Thursday, November 30, 2017

ACROSS THE GREAT DIVIDE

       



        This only --- survives funerals
         Love --- has wings
          Mind --- the Phoenix brings

           Anointed are birds that sing
            Little ones come unto me
             Across the Great Divide
              Of death --- and Spring.

















(C)2017 by W.G. Milne



Finding poems and bits of poems
In a wondrous and post-apocalyptic
Landscape of notebooks.






Tuesday, November 28, 2017

won't you please come and lie with me - SONG - with music and lyrics




Name doesn’t matter
For the water
Dancing where you are
Whatever you’re after
Whatever ladder
You follow to the stars

Won’t you please come and lie with me?
A lady smiled to say 
You've been with me for five centuries  
   Anyway                                                      (Hook)

Name doesn’t matter
For the waters
Dancing in the moon
Call me with rivers
Call me with laughter
Call me late or soon

And won’t you please come and lie with me?
A lady smiled to say
You’ve been with me
For five centuries
Anyway

You are dancing 
With the river
Oh, you are dear to me
I'll miss you now
I'll miss you never
Do the rivers miss the sea?

And won't you please
Come and lie with me?
A lady smiled to say
You've been with me
For five centuries
Anyway









These are words, 2 verses out of 3, for a song I wrote way back when during my periods as a folk singer. In all modesty, it's a lovely melody. And the transcendent aspect of the embrace between the two lovers over several
centuries - this excites me. And I know there's truth to it.


I think there's another verse to this song. IT's got a lovely hook.... I need more equipment to post in on You Tube, or here even.

I have the chords on a different site... no vocals you can hear yet. Won't be long now. I was playing the melody on an electric guitar using echo and wah plus something... The guitar part on Windows music player is enticing.
Now all this song needs is the equipment to do a little assembly.


A matter of days or weeks at the most

I hope we all like it/love it when it's done...
Cheers to us all!
And to you, especially.




(C) 1980-2017 by W.G.Milne and 
John Rock Corporation All rights reserved.


Saturday, November 18, 2017

PANAMA CITY



 2 travelers --- W.G. Milne and Peter Rowland...
going to
                           PANAMA CITY





Music:

words by W.G. Milne

Voice, rhythm guitar and harmonica: 
W.G.Milne

Panama City is paradise for a character in the book I'm writing about Mainstreet.







(C)2017 by W.G. Milne     All rights reserved.

Johnny Rock and the Angels



















Friday, November 17, 2017

BLAST OF SUN IN MY FACE








The sun blasts in my face now like thunder
Silver sparkling bright on the cars'  fools' gold
The cosmos wheels round now without blunder
The past does not exist now on this heath





The sun brightens with a prayer such wonder
The Lord of hosts puts treasures in my hand
Words cannot express not here nor  yonder
The wondrous workings in this holy land




Lady in tight pants lifts her arm and thumbs
Picked up by a pickup and then away
I'm sitting on a chair  by the Rio Theater
The clouds are moving fast across the lake




The future is a faded song itself...
A song that soon will come and soon be gone
Like men who rise and climb to strut the stage 
All endeavours quickly pass on along.

The leaves are blown off all the polar trees
Autumn's sweeping fast all heat away
 Motorcycle blows all future from me
I sit atop a swirl of glory days.



(C)2017 by W.G. Milne



DEEPER MEDITATIONS ON ORIGINAL TRUTH II



          Another saying that helps smash the eggshell ego of the intellectual, philosophical or
"rational" mind:


BEFORE ABRAHAM WAS, I AM.

         This is a saying of the Christ, very early saying. This is not meant to put people in a 'religious' or 'pious' state of mind...
         No we're learning about focus - how to enter into deep focus. That place of silence where all your resources shine a light on one expression.
         These expressions - you can try to understand them - but that is a waste of time.
There can be no explanation of the deeper realities. Such presences resound in your mind as if you have struck a bell.
        It's best to deal with one saying at a time.
Choose one that resounds within you and focus upon it, let them arise... these deeper meanings.
Sometimes these sayings reach to you from across the centuries.
       Focus, not analysis, is the practice of the mystic - the deeply honoured mystical tradition.
You will not be alone in your practice. Other minds will hear the resonance of what you are doing.
       Wondrous things start to happen if we show a little patience in our search.

        Don't think of searching for externals. You search for something you already have - you just don't know it yet.

        Consciousness arises in a new dawn upon the earth, starting with your search.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

DEEPER MEDITATIONS ON ORIGINAL TRUTH




"He was nailed to a tree and he became
the fruit of the Knowledge of the Father. The
fruit did not, however, cause destruction
because it was eaten, but to those who ate it,
it gave cause to become glad in the discovery.
and he discovered them in himself, and they
discovered him in themselves."
                                           The Gospel of Truth  


                          I'm going to post

paragraphs from the Gnostic Gospels, 

the real Gospels discovered in Egypt in 

the year 1945.

              The passages I choose will have 

the full Seed within them

Close study/meditation on any one of these

paragraphs may well lead you into 


a Gnosis that can cause     


 Realization (foundation experience).


              So I'll choose deep meaning 

passages that cannot be explained.

It is necessary to bring your full focus

into perceiving the meaning of 

paragraph.


              A mindshock is necessary to 

shake the very foundation of your being.









Tuesday, November 7, 2017

PANAMA CITY - song by J.Rock & the Angels....




Panama City........... Harper dreamed this was Paradise.


PSYCHIC TRAVELER


psychic traveler




so I have
dark mystic dreams
of you
dark dreams
that penetrate to the depths
of the lake

the deep bottomless
lake
the mysterious 
lake
the spring-fed
weather-changing
lake
the loon-calling
lake
sand-piper walking
lake
lake of broken dreams
and hope renewed;

lake of dark-pined
islands and rocky
shoals
dreams of impossible
silence
and gentle waves
the duck-mothering
lake
chicken running
lake
of ancient passageways
to the interior
lake of voyageurs
heroic psychic travelers
dark dreams of you
in the silence
somehow I left my shoes
at your place
as the dark whispering wind
sings on
forever.








(C)1987 to 2017 by W.G. Milne


From the collection, "GYPSY LIVES"

Friday, November 3, 2017

I HAVE HEARD THE ANGELS SINGING







I WROTE THIS SONG IN THE FIELDS NORTH OF TORONTO. (C)2O17 by W.G. Milne...All rights reserved

HEROIN WITHDRAWAL AND ALL THE ATTENDANT DEMONS


      

      DEMONS YOU CAN INVOKE; GRACE
IS THE SOLE PROVENANCE OF THE LORD

            I'm a mystic, a guy involved with the spiritual: don't confuse me with those religious fools!

            I'm trying to help this (fucked-up) therapist with a major opiate withdrawal happening. I'm looking at the sky. It's 7:00 AM. Then it's 8:00AM. Now it's 9:30... the sky is still dark. WTF?
          Now I realize it's PM not AM... If this is the state of my organization --- how can I presume to advise anyone.

             We think of sex... then we think of the Spirit at a wholly different time. Don't we know these so-called extremes are part of the same energy?

        If you were to know how many heroin withdrawals I've been through, I suspect you'd consider me a moron.
         Anyway, I know a hell of a lot about drugs and their results --- doesn't matter what time it is.

        I hope she hasn't gone into the bathroom to slice up.
                                ***

        None of us, however brave we are, can fight depression or loneliness.
                           *

        I've been accused of writing exceedingly mournful ballads... the singing in a bar rule is - don't play more than 2 in a row. Or half the audience will edge off to the bathrooms to slice up.

      A joke... and  partially true .I REALLY can't sing more than 2 of my ballads on stage -
the bartenders told me that.

       One night I just sang one ballad in Newfoundland. A fiddle player  and a very adept accordion player joined the band...
     
      They kept giving me shots of this clear white liquid which I soon discover was moonshine.. called, Newfie Screeh! Not the stuff U buy in the liquor stores... this stuff is three times stronger.

      So I launch into one of my beautiful but mournful ballads, and then the fiddle joined in
I found the fiddle moving.
      Then the acordion came in atop the bass,. drums and me. I was more moved. I had 7 shot glasses of the original screech lined up on the top of my amplifier right behind me. Rapidly, in quick succession, I poured 3 of these shot glasses down my throat.
             Then quickly I drank sips of water ...'cause my head was getting hot. And my chest and belly, too --- the hot flash was moving south in my body with speed and ease.
             After the instrumental solo, I started singing the next verse. The whole fish-cleaning parlour was getting brighter and more clear.
              The verses of the song were driving me to emotion...

              "When I saw you
                 Your sorrow in your hand
                   Afraid to turn your hear
                    And afraid to stand

               When I saw you
                On a mountain of sand
                   In a huge hour glass
                     And the sand had passed through...

I started weeping. Tears flowing down my face. I was a trifle embarrassed - then I looked down at the audience... They were crying too - - all of them.
                                *


        You can't sum this stuff up, no matter how you try. Life is not meant to be assessed logically.
         One century soon western philosophers will figure this out.
         And maybe... start to relax.
          Music beats philosophy every day of the week. Try some dancing if you want to cleanse your soul.
         

        












Wednesday, November 1, 2017

WAITING IN LOVE FOR AGES - song lyrics




G                           Em
I've been waiting in love for ages
C                                         D                    G
But you don't... you just don't come up

Yeah, waiting in love for ages 

But ya just don't --- ya just don't come up



Now you paid me a little visit, lady,
So I could show my love
And you held out five fingers, baby,
So I would kiss your glove

7Em                           3C
And when I hear you shout
7Em                      3C
When I hear you cry out           HOOK
C                 D                 G
Let's do it all over again!
C                 D                 G
Let's do it all over again!


I will walk the streets with flowers for you
We'll see the dawn come in
I'll take you  to Paris, Lady,
Your favourite restaurant by the Seine

I've been waiting in love for ages
But you just don't, you just don't come up
I see you across this smokey  room
Still you just don't, you just don't come up


I wanted to love you, sweetheart,
You said I wasn't man enough
I said I'd love you like a woman
But you wanted sterner stuff

And now we're lying in the dawn
And I find we can get it up
So I gave you a rose at breakfast
And I bought you your favourite book

Hook---And when I hear you shout
When I hear you cry out
Yes, when I hear you shout
Let's do it all over again!

I said I'd take you travelling
But I don't get around so much
We didn't go to Paris
So I took you to the bush

And now I see you're holding (7Em)
My promise in your hand
When promises are honey
And we're walking in the sand

Orion now is rising
By the red eye of the beast
Aphrodite and the hunting dogs
Are dancing in the east

And now when I hear you shout
Yeah, when I hear you cry out
Yes, now as I hear you shout
Let's do it all over again!




(C)2017 by W.G. Milne



This is a song I haven't recorded yet but I can hear it
in my head.