Daily Drops

Sad Waters

As each November approaches I try to make my own little Remembrance-time tribute.  Seems more relevant as each year passes...

Following the huffing and puffing empire lunacy in the summer of 1914, the next four years would see 40 million casualties, half of them deaths and of those, half were civilian.  

40 million.

40 million tales of poignancy, pain, grief and human tragedy, through times that can often seem littered with coincidence, symmetries …. bookends and mirrors.

In the Military Cemetery of St Symphorien near Mons rests John Parr.  At only five foot three inches and several years under age he (amazingly) managed to enlist in 1912 - hoping to see the world, and get the advertised “two square meals” a day.  He was the first British Army casualty, killed in the battle of Mons aged just 17, his body left behind, fate unknown until much later in the conflict;  the army unable to answer his mother’s letters of enquiry about her “silent” son.

By pure coincidence, John lies just a few yards from the last British soldier to die in the great war.  George Ellison served for four long years including at the same first battle of Mons as John, and most of the famously grinding, attritional infantry battles of the conflict.  His working life bookended by military service, George had first enlisted in 1902, leaving the army in 1912, just as John joined, he became a coal miner, re-enlisting at the outbreak of war to dig mud not coal and fight from trenches he helped excavate.  George was killed just 90 minutes before the armistice took effect at 11:00 on the 11th day of the 11th month.  The futility of the conflict was cruelly illustrated by the fact that George’s war had started and ended at exactly the same place, Mons in Belgium.  They had literally gone nowhere.

As a postscript to progress since "the war to end all wars" the human race is currently reckoned to be engaged in 7 major wars, 15 significant ongoing conflicts and 21 “minor” conflicts (the latter defined as up to "only” 1000 deaths per year).  By way of another macabre bookend, the longest of these has been going on, unbelievably, since the year .... 1918.

As always, this simple ballad is offered as a live one mic one take effort - please excuse the fluffs and gaffes.
_______________________

Bookends and Mirrors

Sun turned cold ‘cross every sky in the summer of ‘14
The Good Lord shook his head, and he placed it in his hands
Braided declarations flying, whose like was never seen
Lunatics in feathers stockpiled lead, bagged their sand.
Slapstick Mephistopheles, unleashing of his flame
Spiral minds lobotomised in the waltz of the insane
Simple lives unknowing of the mud that would become
A mirror in the resting place of two Holy Mother’s sons.

Signed the line, five years young, fingers crossed behind his back
Chance to see the world, grab a future, two square meals.
At 17, John’s angels sung, first to fall in dawn’s attack
Abandoned and forgotten, deaf to all his ma’s appeals.
Never knew the miner, his bookend pal to be
Fighting down the line, many battles that he’d see
Full four years in trenches, George’s hell lived through them all
Cruelty was smiling wide at England’s last to fall.

In service time they travelled nowhere, nothing to achieve
Embracing 40 million weeping mothers left to grieve
The crime of puffing chest bravado beggared to believe
Hall of mirrors seeping others’ blood of the innocent naive.

Now John and George lie facing each to seek their mirrored peace
Raise my eyes and brim a tear for the lessons never learned
Pray God, don’t ever let them know man’s insanity but increased
The war to end all wars a mere sequel oft’ returned 
By comedies of leathered fools stuck on infinite repeat
Bemedalled and bejewelled, they prosecute their moral defeat
But here, on sallow turf twixt heroes, broken mirror in my broken hand
Met by my own broken eyes, I still fail to understand.
_________
Photo by Michael Yuan on Unsplash

Bookends and Mirrors

90482 Orcus

A fusion of composition and live playing meld together, leading to the Trojan sound. The pianist and original composer (Sunyata) teases with a variety of ascending and descending runs. Intertwined we meld our guitars. Chris's arrangement, slow attack chords and Sunyata's double bass keep the pace lively & creative.

Cover art.  Sunyata  (Cairns Australia)

Trojan Mule

Taken from the 'Ninetails' album. I have put this on before as a double with 'Burnt Acacia' but decided it deserves to be uploaded again in its own right :)

You can find the album it on multiple platforms, check it out.

Ninetails (Album)

Ninetails (Standalone)

Part 4 of my "All Hope Is Lost" mini track series.
The world is broken and all hope is lost but still the nomad wanders, into territories unknown he escaped but not without sin, now longing and searching for salvation...

Salvation

Can We Build a Refrigerator?

Frozen Afterimage

I've been pretty sick lately, so due to a lack of inspiration for anything new, this is another one dragged out of the archives and brought into 2024.
Thought it would be nice to have some guitar added too, so my trusty friend Ibnu Hadi D came up with the goods once again 😊
Always a pleasure working with him!

Guitar: Ibnu Hadi D
Music, mix/master: Electrometis
Vocals: various royalty free sources

Free download if you like it.

Thank you for listening ♥

You Know Me Better

You Know Me Better (Remix) feat. Ibnu Hadi D

I'm hoping this will cut it as the first track on an album inspired by Asimov's Foundation novels.
I used a Gibson 335 Memphis for all the guitar parts.
The cover is from a Catalonian edition of the book and is by Guillem H. Pongillupi; find him on Artstation and Pinterest.

Foundation (Prelude)

https://nowyyorg9.wixsite.com/seasional-optimist/forever-in-my-heart

Album Interactive Experience
nowyyorg 2024

Forever In My Heart

And you wanna say, but you wanna know
Everything I am, inside my soul
Am I full of shit, I don't really know
All I really know is I'm original
And you wanna be kinda like me
Do you wanna know how I did it though
You gotta spend some time in your fucking mind
'Til you're fucking minds and out your fucking mind
Are you getting mad cuz I operate
In a different way than you want me to
Are you fucking glad I don't penetrate
Every mind of the kind you make weak and blind

We don't care
We Undermine your lies with our underlying guise
We won't bear
Your burdening defies our need to stay alive

And now your narrative is fucking crumbling
and your former sheep are now grumbling
And your humbled by the mumbling
Of the people you keep in the dark and underneath
And they're gonna know what you don't want them to
We aren't really free unless we're slaves to you
Until we break the chains until we free our minds
From the ones who remain dumb lost weak and blind
They try to throw it all put us all away 
Like we're a detriment to society
Only trouble is they can't facilitate
The making of a mind as strong as mine into a paper plate

We don't care
We Undermine your lies with our underlying guise
We won't bear
Your burdening defies our need to stay alive

We Don't Care

Original by Nazareth 1982
Vocal : Janne Hennie

Dream On W/ Janne Hennie

Omarya Wellspring

Twilight

Heavy Punk Rock 'n' Roll band turns into Synthwave nowadays! Brand NEW album "Ultraviolet Cosmos" available NOW!

... Maybe I'm putting too much emotion into it, well... that's how I am...

Forever In My Heart

nowyyorg ( Seasonal OptiMist )

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