sometimes the faucet of creativity is so switched off, that even though you feel like saying so much, the words and means to express the myriad emotions welling up inside is next to impossible. I sat down to write , but the flow of thoughts today is like being stuck in mumbai traffic, you are desperate to make progress but the entire surroundings are so chaotic that you hardly move an inch in an hour! today my mind seems to be in one such traffic jam of thoughts..
I have always found solace in others writings when my own are hard to come by..so i just start googling randomnly, trying to find some long forgotten musings i faintly remember having read at some point of time..well this one..i heard i guess long back..the song has got just the zing which appeals to me no matter how many, when and in what mood i listen to it..thats in a large part because of the guitar work and psychedelic feel this song carries..but neverthless what is a good tune without lyrics to match..
Last night your shadow fell upon my lonely room
I touched your golden hair and tasted your perfume
Your eyes were filled with love the way they used to be
Your gentle hand reached out to comfort me
Then came the dawn
And you were gone
You were gone, gone, gone
I had too much to dream last night
Too much to dream
I'm not ready to face the light
I had too much to dream
Last night
The room was empty as I staggered from my bed
I could not bear the image racing through my head
You were so real that I could feel your eagerness
And when you raised your lips for me to kiss
Came the dawn
And you were gone
Oh, too much to dream
Too much to dream last night
'too much to dream last night' what an awesome line..so singularly honest, funny and addictive.. all at the same time..
and then i stumble upon this absolute gem of artistic work..'raven'..edgar allen poe's pen pours out an imagery so profound, that i have always been able to 'see' a haggard man in a dimly lit room..struggling to keep sane and fighting the demons of his memories..a fight which is so full of paranoia and symbolism..that no lesser a soul than poe could hav put it into words..'never more'! the way this 'long' poem enfolds its story and you begin to see the darkness in which the narrator is caught.. that it almost leaves the feel of a cold hand on your heart when it ends by saying..
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
i had the opinion of lewis caroll being a writer of children fantasies, until i rediscovered an altogether different perspective of his writings..an extremely profound, poignant and imagery inducing blend of verses, which would mean differently to whoever happens to read..
A Boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear --
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream --
Lingering in the golden dream --
Life, what is it but a dream?
isnt it almost like a lullaby..lying alone on a lonely boat, rocking slowly on a sleepy brook , even as the evening closes in and you feel the chill of the cold wind..and think about life..i only wish i also had the gift to put those fleeting feelings into words so beautifully..
