In the heart-wrenching aftermath of losing his partner to a relentless battle with cancer, a man found himself adrift in the vast emptiness of grief. The once vibrant colors of their shared life turned to muted shades, and the echoes of his partner's laughter haunted every corner of their home. The man, once grounded by love, became a nowhere-man, wandering through the days with a heavy heart and a sense of purpose lost. The weight of loss hung heavily upon him, casting a shadow over his every step. Friends reached out, but the fortress of grief he built around himself seemed impenetrable. In the silence of solitude, The man grappled with the void left by his partner's absence, navigating the world like a ship without a compass, lost and yearning for the anchor of love that had been cruelly taken away.

Nowhere Man

Nowhere Man Two - David Wurden (music),  Gary Hayward (lyrics and Vocals)

J'avais vingt ans sur les rives de la Dordogne, on écoutait Lisa sad Lisa de Cat Stevens...

Que deviens tu

its about being a Stoic basically and throws together a few famous stoic thoughts and a chorus about how i feel as a poor living human being while i have the chance to :) maybe you feel the same way if so your not alone

We Made More

Burn The Warehouse Down

An evolved version, with drums and keys by ColSeth. Lots more energy.
#rock
#pop
#alternativerock
#lit
#trending
#emo
#chill


Emerald Eyes

The beak-faced, egg-breasted Bird Mother is the oldest known supernatural deity and she was worshipped in the oak groves of these isles long before any other more humanoid entities.

I wrote this after learning that frequency spectographic research found the dawn chorus builds, with its sound, what looks like cathedrals of light. (More here: https://anniedieuleveut.com/2021/01/14/the-cathedrals-of-light-sung-by-the-dawn-chorus/) 

I am very grateful to APi-ZZ (Andreas Pirner) for composing such enchanting music. You can find him here: https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

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

Music by APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) 
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner), January 2024 

Cover Art: Detail from a stained glass window at Dornoch Cathedral in the Scottish Highlands, taken by John Haslam. 

Poem: 

All honour to the Crane bag of the Bird Mother, 
with its Ogham runes and snakes' eggs blue 
that birth the laws to protect the young, 
and those who will later come along 
to live under Her eye of the Moon. 
Our groves were grown for her Offertory 
and even now that they have become churches, 
her birds still intone sonic cathedrals of light 
to wind Saturn’s clock for each new day ... 
and will do for so long as the Earth is.

The murmuring Starlings keep vigil in the dark, 
sparkling in their bright constellations. 
A Long-Eared Owl hoots the Magnificat 
through the cloisters, to prepare the Mass 
for the sleep-dreaming congregations. 

An Eagle arrives at the lectern 
to conduct the Liturgy of Hours, 
its hawkwind-breath inspires and expires 
through the lead-slated roofs and copper spires, 
with prayers reaching up to Her flower-decked bower.
Then a Martin begins the morning Matins 
by swift-spiralling above to show 
we’re all part of the round robin rhyme 
of the tic-tocking Wheel of Time, 
here in our nests and bowers down below. 

At Lauds, a Lark ascends through tree-lined arches 
into the heavenly fan vaulting, 
a glorious Gloria trilling on its tongue, 
that the Sun will keep its promise 
that a new day will come, 
its joy unstinting and unhalting, 
As through the leaded panes of the old church Quire, 
skies are turning from blusher to butter, 
while songbirds in serried ranks, brightly arrayed, 
are chirping and whistling a dawn chorus of praise 
to Her Blessedness, the egg-breasted Bird Mother.

At Prime, a Peregrine Falcon flies to the tower, 
to squawk in the new Sun. 
Then a Torquoise Jay emerges at Terce 
to Gregorian chant the chapter and verse, 
now that the third hour after dawn has come. 

White Swans take flight from their lakes 
to lead the sublime symphony of Sext. 
They soar past choirs of stone-winged angels 
to ring the bells and the Summer Triangle, 
all down the nave and through the transepts. 

Next it’s the turn of a red-cloaked Cardinal.
He intones a psalm, accompanied by a bassoon. 
It is Nones, which marks the ninth hour since sunrise, 
and so we have now reached mid-afternoon. 

Long purple shadows are silently descending 
from the wings of a bald-headed Vulture 
flying in for Vespers at this juncture, 
So we know that the day She gave is now ending.

 Finally, at Compline, a black Crow arrives, 
the incense to light, and to recite the Agnus Dei.
He perches on the altar in full magisterium, 
to hoarsely croak out a sombre Requiem, 
“...aeternum dona eis, Domine.” 
to bring down the thick velvet curtain of night. 

And then a Robin sings the Last Rites. 

All this, in honour of the Crane bag of the Bird Mother, 
with its Ogham runes and snakes' eggs blue 
that birth the laws to protect the young, 
and those who will later come along 
to live under Her Eye of the Moon.

© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024

A Cathedral of Birds

A true story ...

By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner)

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

I'm most grateful to Andreas for this perfect music for the subject. 

Music by © APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) February 2024 
Find him here: (@api_zz)

Words: 

Long were they known to the Children of Don, 
These waters that run so deep, 
That pulse the heart blood of Avalon, 
And rocks the Beauty who still sleeps. 
Fand, her eye weeps, 
Drops drip, springs seep, 
In dark, underground caverns 
Fluting silvery waters, oh so sweet, 
That carry the salmon to Mabon.

Since ice floes swept these Isles of Honey,
This nectar of Nectan’s Glen, 
Dove’s ambrosia of Aphrodite, 
Or Brigit, as she was known then, 
Sung lullabies, into the night, 
Singing in the age of when 
The sun bird left Cinnamon Lane in flight, 
Soaring at behest of Gwyn. 

Avalon’s waters are sacred, you see, 
Destined for changes in ages. 
These rivers below don’t run to the seas, 
But move at the command of mages 
In the World Tree, sounding the key 
To unlock Earth’s life changes. 
It is by Macmannan of Llyr’s decree, 
Greatest of Celtic sages. 

But it was not his harp that dealt the knell 
Of doom on these sacred waters. 
This HAARP was an instrument of Hell 
Straight from the Den of Plotters. 
To steal the dells, Levels and fells, 
From their rightful owners. 
To bring in huge drills, to frack the wells, 
To rape Morrigan’s daughter. 

The Three Nefarious Blows to Britain 
Could not have done any worse. 
Of those fateful days, it is written, 
Avalon came under curse. 
The Furies rained, Taranis aimed 
Wheels to spin the sea purse, 
As storm waves crashed into pasture plains, 
And the farmers’ fields submersed. 

On the night of the full moon baleful airs 
Smashed the doors of the White Spring 
To pieces, shattered, well past repair, 
It was such a bitter sting. 
Stone dragon on stair, beyond prayer, 
Broken as they found him. 
But Brigit’s flame in her grotto still flared, 
The heart of the Isles of Honey. 


At Burrow Mump, useless handwringers all
 Were photographed for their voters. 
The Prince of Wales claimed he was appalled, 
While on the phone to his broker. 
Gone Chinese walls, the croupier calls 
This game of red hot poker. 
When climate change was blamed as the cause, 
The winner threw down the Joker. 

But all was not lost, despite shriek and beseech, 
The call rang across the leylines, 
Echoed by standing stones and cromlechs, 
“Send a bard who can spell with a rhyme.” 
Men of Harlech, now ithyphallic, 
Thundered down the rhynes , 
“Defend the glassy wall, Fragarach. 
“Lugh’s own Tongue Cannot Lie.” 

And so, this magical sword appeared
At the Avalon Council of Bards. 
To speak through the old Witch,  
“Rhyme it up!” it told the lady smith;
The purge to remove the bane. 
So she intoned the words to entrain, 
That tumbled out like a twin-twisted withe, 
Her tongue could no more contain...

"You wizards and lizards! You boastful bards! 
"By your own ignorance you’re paralysed. 
"The Beli serpent of these Honey Isles 
"Your mute mouths are unable to satirise, 
"Let alone the three fountains he guards."

Then she turned and raised her hands 
to the roiling skies. 

"I command the Three Fountains:
"The fountain of water of air
"The fountain of water of seas
"The fountain of water of earth/fire 
"Be still... and know thy peace.

"All glory to you, victorious Beli,
Who defends the Honey Isles."

The Waters Of Avalon

Pour le titre on ne peut pas dire que je me suis retourné un ongle pour le trouver ! 
Exercice d'enregistrement de percussions acoustique.
Batterie congas timbales tambourin

Percu

Cold & Grey

The Point

Sunbeams in the Forest

Attention!!!!  I will be removing a lot of these tracks from this page as I do not appreciate the quality of many of the first and some later attempts at mixing and producing where I was learning on my own.  If you enjoy any of these tracks and want to have an mp3 copy, just send a message and I will oblige.  Depending on the track of course, as they are not all coming down.  Please be swift.  I will be doing this soon.  Rock on.  Thanks for always listening and for following.   I want to deliver better quality to your ears.  That’s what you all who follow and listen deserve.  Rock on.  

That’s said:

SoundCloud is basically my journal. I write a lot. This is all original music.  It’s not simple, bland one note or beat machine music.  I produce it all aside from a few. I don’t do this for anyone but my own demons.  This is how I shut them up when they scream passively into my brain.  If you like it, follow deeper down the rabbit hole as there will always be more to come while I’m alive. Thanks for listening and always leave smiling.  In good taste, rock on.  Also…

My art is better.  Check it out on Instagram.

@clever_wolf_music on Instagram

CW/JK

The Point

Clever Wolf

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