Poignant story, intensely told (as ever ;-), perfectly accompanied by some excellent "soundscape"

Listen to your mama
'S what was said to me
Ain't like your papa
Shame creepin' up on me

With every cell of my body
And the strongest might
I fought with pride and indignation 
To prove that I was right
Till I won
Then I lost
Now I look in the rear view mirror
As I say
Hmmm…

Listen to the angels
That bless us from the sky
Believe in heaven
Don't catch the devil's eye

I pushed away any notion
Of a faith-filled soul
Then the news beamed horror stories
Of war-ravaged homes
What did I do to be deserving
But they didn't?
Now I catch myself sneaking glances up above
To say
Hmmm…

Life gives us chances 
But life is too short 
Time is a band-aid
Wouldn't you rather move on

So if you find yourself questioning the rights and wrongs of life
Maybe take a breath and one step back
And say
Hmmm… 

Take a step back
I'll say
You'll say
We'll say
They'll say


Single (C)2024
Music - John Henderson and Sreyashi Mukherjee
Lyrics and Vocals - Sumi (Sreyashi Mukherjee)
Backing Vocals - John Henderson
Guitar - John Henderson
Bass, strings - Fabian Adam
Mixing - Fabian Adam

Say (Hmmm...) - with John Henderson

Voici ma quatrième création (remix) en collaboration avec le 'Channel Musicon'. Pour cette fois, en entendant la magnifique voix de Fabian Cleveland (Cleve),  j'ai décidé de faire un voyage en Jamaïque et de créer un reggae relax. Les artistes présents sur cet enregistrement sont Marie-Christine Tremblay aux back vocals, Pierre Larouche au piano, Alain Picotte à la contrebasse et moi-même à la guitare. Le tout encore superbement mixé et masterisé par Martin Larose au studio Septentrio.  Bonne écoute!

Here is my fourth creation (remix) in collaboration with 'Musicon Channel'. For this time, hearing the beautiful voice of Fabian Cleveland (Cleve),  I decided to take a trip to Jamaica and create  relaxed reggae. The artists on this recording are Marie-Christine Tremblay on the back vocals, Pierre Larouche on the piano, Alain Picotte on the double bass and me on guitar. All still superbly mixed and mastered by Martin Larose at Septentrio studio.  Good listening!

New Day

New Day (Ft: Fabian Cleveland)

New Day (Ft. : Fabian Cleveland)

The strength... the power... the illusion... the magic...
Simply... ORK!DEA

ORK!DEA

Dedicated to all childs and all mothers and fathers that lost childrean, specially in shooting school madness and war, in earthquakes, in everywhere. There is a crash line that some persons pass when make others suffer, that is CrashLineMadness, no pardon.

CrashLineMadness

The Isle of the Strong Door is the ancient mythical name for the island of Britain.

Lyrics and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Copyright Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, May 2024

Music by Paul Foss
© Copyright Paul Foss, May 2024
Email: paul@paulfossmusic.com

Words: 

No man is an island ......a wise man once said. 
But an island is an island, that cannot be denied, 
Nor that those who live on islands evolve in different ways 
To their contemporaries in places like, say, Vladivostok or Monterey. 


Some call it “island syndrome”; it's not a painful condition. 
It’s just how we grew in our homeland, and not even of our own volition, 
On the Isle of the Strong Door, surrounded by a deep blue moat,
Our smallest became gigantic, while our giants became remote.


 “But you are no-one! You're so small!” go the voices beyond our walls, 
“You’ll never survive, let alone thrive, all alone as you are on the world stage.” 
Except we have done – ever since the last Ice Age.
And it may have passed them by, but haven’t they heard? 
Our language is the lingua franca of the world.  

Bran was the last giant of this Mighty Isle, or so it is told in our myths. 
On his death bed, he ordered that his head should be buried in the towering white Dover cliffs. 
Since then, it has guarded the wave-tossed straits, staring forbiddingly out from our shores, 
Rendering all invaders at checkmate, unless those inside open the Strong Door.

© Copyright Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, May 2024, all rights reserved

The Isle of the Strong Door

Power ballad remix version of John's song Samantha - 2024
(c)(p) Swamp Music UK & Swamp Records UK for all territories

Samantha (power vsn)

Samantha (power vsn) by John Hardman

It's been a while... The tracks will now be released under the name "No Name No Number", I preferred to change the title. EP "No Name No Number - Burn" is available on all platforms

Do It or Die

original song all instruments and vocals, chris magsam

When Love Becomes The Blues

The composer Marcel Gruhn sent me his epic orchestral track, Now and Always (link here: https://on.soundcloud.com/J6jq4cjfZ9aHBBrs7) and asked me if I felt inspired to put some words to it. I certainly did, and this is the result. We hope you like it as much as we do! 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Copyright Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, May 2024 

Music by Marcel Gruhn
© Copyright Marcel Gruhn May 2024

Cover Art: Me via AI. 

Words:

He was so tired ...he’d been walking for weeks ...with a leg aching from the wound he’d taken at that last battle ...in which so many had been killed. 

He stopped by a farm gate, and then he leaned on it to light his pipe, and he remembered, once again, the sound of the vultures screaming as they came in to feed on the corpses. It was etched on his soul. 

He was no longer the arrogant young man who’d left his homeland with a cocky spring in his step. His face was now lined like a road map, showing all the places he’d been and all the horrors he’d seen. 

As he drew on his pipe, he looked up to see a lush green valley stretching out before him, and it seemed familiar. The streets and playgrounds of the village below were just like those he’d played in as a child, such a long time ago... Then he gasped as he realised ...he was nearly home! 

He wanted to run, but he could only stumble along the lane, dragging his leg behind him. Full of doubt now, fears for how he’d be received having left them all such a long time ago, and under a cloud...he wondered, would they even recognise him? 

Through eyes blurred with tears, he saw two young boys coming along the lane, with their mother close behind ...but no, surely not? Was this his daughter, now grown and matured?

 The woman smiled in recognition. 

“We’ve been waiting for you,” she cried out as she ran towards him. And it was then that he saw it...The circle of life... and in a flash, he remembered greeting his own father returning along this very lane, as he must have his father before him. 

Then he felt them both in his heart as it dawned on him that they had never been away, that his forefathers had stood guard around him as he had fought to protect his homeland ...just as these two small boys may have to one day... 

"But not yet.. he silently prayed, "please God ...not just yet..." And he clasped his family to his breast.

Hero's Return (ft. Marcel Gruhn)

A personal prayer. 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Copyright, Annie Dieu-Le-Veut May 2024 

Music by Paul Foss
© Copyright, Paul Foss May 2024 
Email: paul@paulfossmusic.com 

Cover art: Me via AI. 

Words: 

It is the best of times; it is the worst of times.
It is an age in which great wisdom and love is unfolding in the hearts of many. 
It is an age of great folly in which fools are itching to trigger Armageddon.
It is an epoch of belief, but a belief in what?
When all the theology has been twisted to create division, 
When all the science has been hog-tied by a lack of vision
When the most vacuous weep with passion over trifling affairs
When governments are locked in endless games of musical chairs....

No. It is the best of times because it is when I found You
In the Seven Rishis, the Seven Rays,
The Seven Churches, the Seven Sages 
The Seven Chakras, the Seven Planets,
The Seven Sisters of the Pleiades 
And a star for every day of the week. 

It's the time when you showed me the coding of Your purpose,
And so now as I sit here in Your three-ringed circus, 
Watching mountains of lies towering to incredible heights, 
And the black-hearted judges of the kangaroo courts 
Threatening to tie us all up with red tape and torts
As they tread the crimson carpets of the corridors of power, 
Soaked in the blood of human shields and cannon fodder, 
The band of this Titanic is striking up with “We’ll Meet Again!”
And “There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover, 
Just you wait and see...”

And I can only wonder at a love so great to script this comedy
That pushed me to the edge, and beyond, to put into verse
How I’ve fallen,  once more, for your Beauty and Glory,
Found in every cell and atom of your multiverse.

Inspired by Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities.

On the Eve of the Apocalypse (a prayer)

Ten little students applied to grad schools:
One didn't ace his exams, and then there were nine.

Nine little students, their packets prepared:
One's references faltered, and then there were eight.

Eight little graduate students, their studies like forts:
One failed her comps badly, and then there were seven.

Seven little grad students sought ideas that inspire:
One found no thesis topic, and then there were six.

Six little graduate students did their research,
One was tempted by big money, and then there were five.

Five little graduate students went on the job market:
One got zero flyouts, and then there were four.

Four little assistant professors submitted their papers:
One got only rejections, and then there were three.

Three little assistant professors went up for tenure:
One was voted down, and then there were two.

Two little associate professors applied for promotions:
One had no grant funding, and then there was one.

One little professor left all alone:
He went and got himself canceled, and then there were none.

One little, two little, three little scholars
Four little, five little, six little scholars
Seven little, eight little, nine little scholars
Ten little hopeful scholars.
One by one they're gone -
Until there was none.

----

"Ten Little Scholars" draws inspiration from Agatha Christie's famous novel, reimagining its suspenseful countdown in the world of academia. The song adapts the structure of traditional children's counting songs, adding a darkly humorous twist to the progression from ten to none, reflecting the competitive and challenging nature of academic life. Set to a cinematic tune, this track explores the journey of ten scholars, each facing their own academic trials—from rigorous exams to the high stakes of tenure decisions. With each verse, a scholar departs from the race, echoing the suspenseful eliminations found in Christie's work and the simplicity of children's counting songs.

Ten Little Scholars

It was a very lonely business, writing six books on metaphysical subjects over 10 years. Thank goodness that's over! Now I'm having the time of my life, meeting fellow travellers who help me to bring my poems to life with their inspired musical creations. 

Hyperfollow: https://hyperfollow.com/anniedieuleveut

On the Eve of the Apocalypse (a prayer)

Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

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