We are all numbers somewhere, identification numbers, statistic numbers, we are all counted. But my favourite numbers will always be the days I remember, the numbers in the dates I have forgotten but those days have numbers in my heart – the day I published my first book, the day I stood in the middle of an ancient stone circle for the first time and the day I was licked by a tiger and a lion. (some of those days you will find here on my blog).
This song is also about a number and is a great Iron Maiden cover done in the style of Rammstein. But we’re not going to dwell on the Number of The Beast. 666 is a number too many people are obsessed with… and personally, I find that overrated and boring.
And this week I have a bonus song: Count it as a bonus gift 😉 “Stand and be counted, Stand and be Seen”
I am known for my love for goth music but I always had a love for reggae especially Bob Marley as well as some of the songs Sting did that had a reggae influence like “Love Is Stronger Than Justice (The Munificent Seven)” – From Sting’s album “Ten Summoner’s Tales” (my favourite Sting album ever), this song features reggae-style guitar riffs and rhythms, a good example.
I have always loved The Cure as well, which is seen as one of the major influences in The Goth as well as New Romantic music genres. It was interesting that someone went and made a reggae version of Lullaby by The Cure. It will ever be as good as The Cure’s original song, but I rather enjoy this interpretation of a goth classic.
On candy stripe legs the spiderman comes Softly through the shadow of the evening sun Stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead Looking for the victim shivering in bed Searching out fear in the gathering gloom and Suddenly a movement in the corner of the room And there is nothing I can do When I realize with fright That the spiderman is having me for dinner tonight
Quietly he laughs and shaking his head Creeps closer now Closer to the foot of the bed And softer than shadow and quicker than flies His arms are all around me and his tongue in my eyes Be still be calm be quiet now my precious boy Don’t struggle like that or I will only love you more For it’s much too late to get away or turn on the light The spiderman is having you for dinner tonight
And I feel like I’m being eaten By a thousand million shivering furry holes And I know that in the morning I will wake up In the shivering cold
Sometimes music can evoke a primal feel in your heart. Your imagination takes you away on a warrior’s journey where you see yourself in an ancestral form where you stand, spear in hand to go and hunt with your brother to get an elk or caribou to help feed your tribe. Something in you reconnects with nature. A time before cellphone addictions and the rat-race we are cursed with. A time before we got pampered and lazy with shopping centres and hunted for food. If we lose our shopping centres and cellphones, if technology decays will we survive? Be real, most of us are fucked.
Sometimes you need a little music in your life. You need to escape into noise – be it something meditative or something kicking down walls. Listen… do you smell that? It smells like teenage spirit…
Lyrics
Load up on guns, bring your friends It’s fun to lose and to pretend She’s over bored and self-assured Oh, no, I know a dirty word
Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello
With the lights out, it’s less dangerous Here we are now, entertain us I feel stupid and contagious Here we are now, entertain us A mulatto, an albino A mosquito, my libido, yeah Hey Yeah
I’m worse at what I do best And for this gift I feel blessed Our little group it’s always been And always will until the end
Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello
With the lights out, it’s less dangerous Here we are now entertain us I feel stupid and contagious Here we are now entertain us A mulatto, an albino A mosquito, my libido, yeah Hey Yeah
And I forget, just why I taste Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile I found it hard, it’s hard to find Oh well, whatever, never mind
Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello, how low? Hello, hello, hello
With the lights out, it’s less dangerous Here we are now, entertain us I feel stupid, and contagious Here we are now, entertain us A mulatto, an albino A mosquito, my libido
A denial, a denial A denial, a denial A denial, a denial A denial, a denial A denial
mother is the name of tree bearing seeds in her fertile ground they become trees trees get scarred whether by lightning striking on the tree like an angry Zeus whether by fire from a careless flung tobaccoed hand
tree is the name of mother she remembers she also has scars.
like a crow once said “Mother is the name for God in the hearts and minds of children”
2023 allen wolfie simpson
mutterbaum is inspired by the Showmax series ‘Donkerbos’ and also the movie ‘The Crow’ and the graphic novel on which the book was based’ I dedicate this to all mothers, the good ones, like my mother
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Der Mutterbaum
Mutter ist der Name des Baumes, der Samen in ihrem fruchtbaren Boden trägt. Sie werden zu Bäumen, Bäume werden verletzt, sei es durch den Blitz, der auf den Baum trifft, wie ein zorniger Zeus, sei es durch Feuer aus einer sorglos geworfenen, tabakgefärbten Hand.
Baum ist der Name der Mutter, sie erinnert sich, sie hat auch Narben.
Wie ein Rabe einst sagte, “Die Mutter ist der Name für Gott in den Herzen und Köpfen der Kinder.”
2023 Allen Wolfie Simpson
Mutterbaum ist inspiriert von der Showmax-Serie ‘Donkerbos’ und auch dem Film ‘The Crow’ sowie der Graphic Novel, auf der das Buch basiert. Ich widme dies allen Müttern, den guten, so wie meiner Mutter.
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This poem I translated myself into German, if there are any mistakes, bear in mind “Deutsch ist nicht meine muttersprache. Danke.
“Things outside you are projections of what’s inside you, and what’s inside you is a projection of what’s outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you’re stepping into the labyrinth inside. “
Haruki Murakami
Kafka On the Shore
Call it what you may, when I read “Kafka on the Shore” by Haruki Murakami this passage from the book stuck with me and reminded me of the first stanza of the poem “There was a child went forth by day” by Walt Whitman…
“There was a child went forth every day, And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day . . . . or for many years or stretching cycles of years.””
Walt whitman
There was a child went forth every day
In my opinion, the whole novel by Murakami was thought-provoking and made me think, but these two passages, one from Murakami and the stanza from Whitman, kept playing off in my mind. Now either passage may provoke different ideas in the minds of other people. I mean everyone has his own interpretation of art. That is the the philosophy of art, that art, like beauty is in the eye of the beholder…
Consider the marvel of the human brain—a labyrinth of intricately woven synapses, where electrical impulses dance like cosmic sparks. It’s a universe within, a symphony of thoughts echoing through the corridors of possibility. Each synaptic connection is a bridge to a new idea, a potential masterpiece waiting to be illuminated. The brain, a cosmic tapestry, weaves the threads of imagination, sparking the fires of creativity and illuminating our inner universe’s vast expanse. An inverse of sorts.
Now look outwards. That ‘labyrinth of intricately woven synapses’ reflects outwards. You are a window to what you are. You create a new labyrinth every day where you can create, destroy, inspire or deflate. Sometimes we are an NPC, a character, a protagonist or an antagonist. we open the door. Sadly sometimes we are clones… “And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he became” as the poem said.
We are masters of destiny. We have the tools to do so much good or to, excuse my profanity, fuck a fucked-up world even more. The passage in Murakami’s book has many interpretations… Today, these are mine. Tomorrow, they may differ.
Walk your labyrinth by being a force of light, even if you are a dark light, a dark soul. Remember, under a UV light even dark things can shine beautifully. Shine.
demise everyday i am struck by your melody the darkness of your soul everyday i see you my heart becomes ivory and the irony taste bitter in my mind lift up your eyes let the blindness fall in the dark here where you and I cannot see hides the truth and light everyday spawns a poem of sighs as my heart dies and rise here where you and I cannot see hides the truth of my demise (and it set me free) and still every day your melody opens my eyes here where the blind kingdom await and you blow me away… the truth of my demise sets me free and I am lost in the lullabye
They say the best things in life are free. To me that is bullshite. The best things are what we work for. If you desire something it will not come to you, you have to work it to get it. With love, the only way that becomes one of the ‘best things’ is to put in the work. Build your relationships, prove who you are in bad and good times and allow yourself to be unconditionally yourself. Then, after that hard, but rewarding soulwork, relationships are built and love that was a seed once, grows into a mighty tree.
The best things in life will never be free, it is earned. Just like love, trust, hope and dreams. They require work. Earn it.
wolfshadowwhispers 
You said/ Julle sê