Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The untied shoe

Listen kids cos this story is true
how many of you have a set of two
shoes and wonder if they've ever been blue
not the colour but the emotion too?
Well this is a story about one who
lived far away, upon the moon
alone from his double, he wasn't two
loneliness and isolation was all he knew

Not the life he would choose
I mean, would you?
Deep in outer space untied lace
lying across a tormented face.

So one night with the stars up above
with meteors crashing into space junk
the shoe took his life, not with a knife
but strangling himself with the laces tight
escaping his soul into the infinite night.
So when you're down or in strife
think of the shoe burning bright
in every star at great height
and thank your stars you're not on the moon
missing your other shoe which makes you two.

restless farewell

Oh all the money that in my whole life I did spend,
Be it mine right or wrongfully,
I let it slip gladly past the hands of my friends
To tie up the time most forcefully.
But the bottles are done,
We've killed each one
And the table's full and overflowed.
And the corner sign
Says it's closing time,
So I'll bid farewell and be down the road.

Oh ev'ry girl that ever I've touched,
I did not do it harmfully.
And ev'ry girl that ever I've hurt,
I did not do it knowin'ly.
But to remain as friends and make amends
You need the time and stay behind.
And since my feet are now fast
And point away from the past,
I'll bid farewell and be down the line.

Oh ev'ry foe that ever I faced,
The cause was there before we came.
And ev'ry cause that ever I fought,
I fought it full without regret or shame.
But the dark does die
As the curtain is drawn and somebody's eyes
Must meet the dawn.
And if I see the day
I'd only have to stay,
So I'll bid farewell in the night and be gone.

Oh, ev'ry thought that's strung a knot in my mind,
I might go insane if it couldn't be sprung.
But it's not to stand naked under unknowin' eyes,
It's for myself and my friends my stories are sung.
But the time ain't tall,
Yet on time you depend and no word is possessed
By no special friend.
And though the line is cut,
It ain't quite the end,
I'll just bid farewell till we meet again.

Oh a false clock tries to tick out my time
To disgrace, distract, and bother me.
And the dirt of gossip blows into my face,
And the dust of rumors covers me.
But if the arrow is straight
And the point is slick,
It can pierce through dust no matter how thick.
So I'll make my stand
And remain as I am
And bid farewell and not give a damn.

versus

Rbroadby at hotmail dot com, is that my identity now?
Have I stooped to the level of some random email
Where a bright eyed kid became a one eyed fib
forever preying on the ideology, but scared to commit?

I sit inside and harbor a gut feeling that will soon send me reeling
send my thoughts outwards and beyond the ceiling
to a place I see, but will never be reasonable believing.
In a futile state I stand, mixed with a sense of grieving
and I ponder; is life worth the effort of thinking
How much do I actually see between the blinking?
and how much do I dream without fully sinking
into a subconscious world where I cant be existing?

And I'm so unattractive both to the world and myself
I could so easily just label myself, and be put on a shelf
for the closest bidder to buy without a chance for goodbye
to the life I knew – versus the hand I was dealt.

But I will go on with a sense of irony believing that there's people worse than me
people that are born into poverty, and are never given the opportunity.
while I squander mine meekly and think apathetically, all the while wondering
why the world won't offer solidarity?

ebb and flow

The water runs, ebbs and flows
down through rivers and streams below
the sparkling light, reflective surface
captures life in the fruitless searches
of water wanting to join the ocean
much like me and my emotions
I will flow on through many a day
hoping for direction and not lead astray.
And my intentions, crystal clear
will remain pure as babies tears.
When i have come upon the setting sun
I will join it there and be as one.

dead is dead

Lonely lovers cry, why me lord I didn't mean to do it
But I saw red when she kissed him back and I lost control
The carnage spreads and their blood it mingles and is very red
But maybe they'll get up and laugh and walk and breath again, no
Oh they never do

Little men carry guns and walk so big
They say they are not afraid, just prepared yeah
But you know they want to use it
They want to drop the "geek"
They want play the hero and talk of life that's cheap
Hangin' on to nothin' or more than they can keep
Do you think that they would dare less?
Do you think they'd lose their sleep?
Oh they never do

I saw the pawns of war run, stand in line
Neatly pressed and folded clean cut boys and blind
How they follow, how they follow no revolting
I wish they would, how I wish they would
Ask the questions why
Why
Oh they never do
Oh they never do

Teachers

I met a woman long ago
her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no.
I met a girl across the sea,
her hair the gold that gold can be,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Yes, but not for thee.

I met a man who lost his mind
in some lost place I had to find,
follow me the wise man said,
but he walked behind.

I walked into a hospital
where none was sick and none was well,
when at night the nurses left
I could not walk at all.

Morning came and then came noon,
dinner time a scalpel blade
lay beside my silver spoon.

Some girls wander by mistake
into the mess that scalpels make.
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to break.

One morning I woke up alone,
the hospital and the nurses gone.
Have I carved enough my Lord?
Child, you are a bone.

I ate and ate and ate,
no I did not miss a plate, well
How much do these suppers cost?
We'll take it out in hate.

I spent my hatred everyplace,
on every work on every face,
someone gave me wishes
and I wished for an embrace.

Several girls embraced me, then
I was embraced by men,
Is my passion perfect?
No, do it once again.

I was handsome I was strong,
I knew the words of every song.
Did my singing please you?
No, the words you sang were wrong.

Who is it whom I address,
who takes down what I confess?
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to rest.

Oh teachers are my lessons done?
I cannot do another one.
They laughed and laughed and said, Well child,
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?

The beauty of hindsight

Beauty of hindsight? That's got to be the most sarcastic thing I've ever heard! I've stood at the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland overlooking infinity. That's beauty.
Hindsight is something that's almost best not to recognize. But to learn from mistakes, yes that is the beauty of hindsight.
And Hindsight is telling me i just dribbled a whole heap of crap into a blog.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

David Holzman's Diary


I am a self confessed movie buff. I love arthouse movies that attempt to portray the world in an offbeat way, and shed new perspectives on mankind and society. Don't get me wrong every so often i love a Hollywood blockbuster, but i find myself growing tired of the same old type of formula used in specific genres. It's so generic.

The film that first opened my eyes to the art of film was David Holzman's Diary. I was 15 yrs old at the time and it had a very profound effect on me. 10 yrs passed and then one day I saw the film in it's entirety, broken into parts, on youtube. I re-watched it and once again was captivated and creatively inspired by it.
There's always a danger when you are nostalgic about a film you have seen so many years ago, that you might ruin a good memory by not enjoying it as much as you did initially all those years ago. But this was not the case with this film.

FILM IS TRUTH 24 FRAMES A SECOND
This is a quote by Jean-Luc Godard, and is used as the basis of the film. David Holzman is trying to solve the mystery of everyday life, trying to make sense of it. So he figures if he captures it all on film and watches it back it may make more sense and he can pick up on things that would normally pass him by. So he begins obsessively filming all aspects of his life, until it starts to unravel before him and he finds even less answers.
It's still so relative to today, in the age of reality television. There's a great monologue in one part of the film where a character explains that nothing that is in front of the camera and aware of the camera is natural, because of the conscious presence of the camera.

All in all though, I love the feel of the film, its shot in this brilliant black and white and the sequences where he films sweeping through the streets of 1960's new york just makes you feel like you're there, opening up and diving into an era so long gone.