If we start again

If we start again
Can you play the game?
It’s just a little theatre play
It’s just a little song
Nothing to be ashamed about
And really nothing wrong

It’s a very common story
It’s very ordinary
You can be the princess
I can be the prince
And depending upon the success
Of the birds and the bees
Two lovers in love
Will be freed

We love

We love
But we are
lonely in ourselves
we reach out
but the earth
cannot tell
neither the stars
or the suns of stars
or the galaxies
of the suns of stars
or the universe
understands
how our world
makes us lonely
once we were
the roots of trees
that broke through the soil
once we were
the water springs
that sprang
from the mountainside
what are we now?
We are oil and plastic and concrete
Nothing much to talk about
Nothing much to be proud of
Nothing at all

Well

Well
If you see us
Walking out
Together
Don’t be afraid
Of the pain
Walk right up to us
Smile and say hi
In the rain
I’m sure that it rains
As much as it shines
That the past is the future
And that the present is time
Well if you see us
We’d like you
To say hello

Well
If you see us
Sitting outside
On the porch
Don’t be afraid
Of the past
Don’t keep hold of the hurt
Walk right up to us
Smile and say hi
In the rain
I’m sure that it rains
As much as it shines

I fell in love with her

I fell in love with her
But she rejected me
But now
She has become
Dependent on me
And I am
Dangling upside down
Inside our history

I followed her
Through the city streets
She tried to run from me
I caught up
Demoralized. Exhausted
And I am
Her cloth toy
Twisted up in our history

We race together
Through life
Together
Nobody wins
But love smiles
And I am
A goldfish falling
Down through open taps of water

Song: East of the Sun, West of the Moon

1.East of the Sun West of the moon
We lived our lives In sep’rate rooms
A star way shines The moon well sleeps
Across the land, A shadow creeps
The eyes of time Rest in her heart
They rest in mine While we’re apart
East of the Sun West of the moon
The shadow flies To a fiddled tune

2. A pen on paper Writes the law
A heart in love Knows much more
Across the sky With words untold
As light as mist As bright as gold
The message rides Through frosted glen
In winter woodland To tell again
East of the Sun, West of the moon
Of loves lost dreams Of flowers strewn

3. In mirrored darkness, Her face is seen
A sacred flight Recurring dream
The morning breaks Through broken heart
To spill on floors The morning star
The hand wipes brow Agonised sigh
First tears of day, The wish to die
East of the Sun West of the moon
We lived our lives In sep’rate rooms

PDF: East of the sun, west of the moon

I began this song at Heidi Berry’s songwriting workshop. I agonised over the chords for ages trying as well as the progress of the melody, it has so many places it could go as a melody, so sing it how you feel it.

The idea began as the typical princess locked up in a tower waiting for her knight in shining armour to set her free, in real life it hardly ever happens.

Chris Hall poem collaboration

Hello Chris – and fellow blog persons.

This is the beginning of a collaboration, Chris Hall’s poem: Together We Are Strong published on lunasonline.wordpress.com on April 7th 2020.

I was reading the poem when it occurred to me that it told a story, from verse to verse, has drama and strong expressive images and that would work as a song. So I got in touch and put forward my idea and she seemed OK with it.

I’ll try to publish the progress on my blog showing the changes and ideas as they happen. At first, I tried a couple of rhythms led ideas that didn’t seem to work, so then I just sat down with my guitar and tried to play a melody over minor chords. Then fearing I might lose what I had so far I took a break. Now that I come back to it I’m not sure and yet it could be ok or not. 🙂 (My smiley faces never work or some reason but I tried, no I’m wrong there it is).

chris hall poem

In The Hydraulic Power Station

Walking down Narrow Street
Tall thin words
Climb out of our mouths
Like flying cymbals

I glimpse the dark flowing river
Through a letterbox
It’s high tide and the waves
Crash against the creaky wood

A violin scare like a centipede
Fits between us
It jumps into the river with a splash

You are plagued by the weakness of the moon
That floats in your blood
Like ice melting in hot water

The diminished chord of your eyes
Encloses a yearning
That envelopes itself in your pale flesh

On the Thames walkway now
I’m like a riverboat tethered to you by a long rope
I can’t get near you
I can’t get away from you

This dotted line of love
Is weakened again and again
By a heavyweight of teachings
That swings to-and-fro in our air

From a broad sweeping view of the river
Down a narrow fenced walkway
Your thoughts are channeled
They pinpoint a point in the perspective
Like a single crochet jumping up and down

The pubs we pass by
None of them suits our purpose
Like smoky clefts in the rivers ribs
Sudden orchestral sounds amid the silences

In the hall of the Hydraulic Power Station
We take our seats
The church organ of your voice
Starts from a whisper and rises
Like an angel into the vault

It’s here I fear
that I fear that my own music
Rides faster and louder like the high tide
That your little song is an Ophelia in the water
It’s here I realise
That the beat of my song
Flows around your rock in silent fury
That you stand immobile
Like a colossal limestone statue
In the ebb and flow of the tide
The spidery notes of my feelings
Carry you on a byre

I am self-contained
Like a ship on the water
Floating in your dry dock

At high tide you are safe
Behind the river walls
While my crow’s nest of dreams collides with meteorites
You face white as porcelain
Your eyes brimming with floodwaters
That returns to their secret channels

On the hydraulic station spiral staircase
You have to try the locked door
That overhangs the void
You climb to the rooftop
To see over the city
And there you take flight
With gull-like thoughts

In the hydraulic station
You slip between machines
Like an art video
Conveyed like the twine of DNA
Twisting out into the air again
Becoming a face blown like paper
Into a fourth dimension
Through the drone of machines
In my imagination

In the hydraulic station
Though I look for you
You are in front of me
On the winding staircase to the roof
In the basement installation
In the hall of machines
I look up to you
Like Paul the apostle
At the blinding light
I look for you
You blind me with
Biblical words
You shimmer like the moon
In a silver cup of water
Your eyes are buttons
Sown to your past
Leaking tears from a great sea

In the hydraulic power station
Great greased shafts of steel
Trumpet of piston
In church lights
Working song
You are its lost beating heart of loneliness

You are its warm blood of isolation
Living in this past
Almost as past as the past
You are its flesh of history
Its bygone times appear in you
You appear in its bygone times
Of existence and non-existence
Of separateness and knowledge
From the wild you are there
In front of me
In touch with only your voice
In touch with only your eyes
Missing like an orphaned runaway
Real like the bars of a chorale

In the hydraulic power station between
Real heavy machinery
You oscillate like a star