The Place Where You Forget Your Name

When you go to the place where you forget your name,
You lay down your sword, you lay down your blame.
You lay down your memory, you lay down your game,
When you go to the place where you forget your name.

When you go to the pace where you find your sight,
You no longer see in terms of darkness and light.
You no longer see in terms of wrong and right,
When you go to the place where you find your sight.

When you go to the place where you meet your soul,
There are no longer parts, there’s only the whole.
There’s no victory, no failure, there’s only the goal,
When you go to the place where you meet your soul.

When you go to the place where you forget your name,
There’s no way to return to from where you came.
Nothing has changed, yet nothing’s the same…
When you go the place where you forget your name!

Karolina Gočeva is the leading young female vocalist / diva in Macedonia. She has matured into a truly brilliant musician, and her more recent efforts include the following masterful jazz performances with Macedonian composer/pianist Duke Bojadžiev and Clarinetist, Ismail Lumanovski, (check his finesse at his solo at about 1:30), the latter both Bitola natives, as I am.

“Idyll”

Please Hand the Devil His Walking Stick

Well, he used to be bad, he used to be lit,
The life of the party, the ultimate wit.
I’d always fall for the same old schtick,
Please hand the devil his walking stick.

Bedecked as he was in diamonds and pearls,
With his circle of the best looking boys and girls.
Always irresistible and oh so slick;
Please hand the devil his walking stick.

And if you were one of the lucky few,
You knew you’d always be skipping the queue.
Should things get tight, he’d be there in a tick;
Just hand the devil his walking stick.

I was always jealous of his sure-fire technique,
But there’s some kind of dent in the old mystique.
When I’d try to catch up he was always too quick,
Please hand the devil his walking stick!

We used to run together every day of the week;
He always had the best physique.
Now he’s ragged and thin as an old toothpick,
Please hand the devil his walking stick.

Came by the other day when I wasn’t home,
Came back again when I was all alone.
I couldn’t resist him one swift kick;
Please hand the devil his walking stick!

For such a long time we were best of friends,
But all good friendships come to an end.
Finally called his bluff and gave him the flick…
Someone hand the devil his walking stick!

“Even in hell, if you are with me,
I would not want to leave.

And if I find myself in heaven,
without you, those wide fields will
be confining to my breathing heart.”

Rumi

With You By My Side

Whatever may come,
Whatever may be,
I surely will bear
With you by my side.
But if you should leave,
I sorely would grieve,
And the tears that I’d cry
Would never subside.

Wherever I am,
Wherever I go,
It makes no difference
With you by my side.
But if we should part
I know that my heart,
From that moment on
Will never survive.

Whenever my time
Is finally at hand,
I gladly will go
With you by my side.
But if you’re not there
Why should I care,
If the cold dark earth
Should be my bride?

Whatever may come,
Whatever may be;
I surely will bear
With you by my side.
And if you should stay,
We’ll cleave to the day;
Whate’er may betide
We’ll take in our stride!

So Long

So long, dear friend, it’s come to this,
Before we part, one final kiss;
Up on the hill the fires burn,
From where I’m bound there’s no return.

So long, dear one, it’s been so fine,
Finer than the finest wine;
To see your eyes and touch your face,
To hold you close in love’s embrace.

So long, my dear, I hear the drum,
I can’t believe the time has come;
Of all our nights spent so blessed,
To put our learning to the test.

So long, dear friend, however brief,
We stood our ground against the thief;
Come then, alas, with one last rhyme,
Let’s raise a toast for one last time!

So long, my friend, don’t count the cost,
The joy we shared will not be lost;
I know one day we’ll meet again,
I don’t know where, I don’t know when.

Farewell, dear friend, farewell, my dear,
The day must come to face our fear;
The things you gave I took to heart…
How it hurts to have to part!

Dear archeon, you are so very kind, thank you! Yep, the brain does eventually come good, as something of the mysteries that the Soul encounters, in its comings and goings, eventually seep through, and lo and behold,  we catch like little fish in that rather patchy net we like to call the mind or brain, and in these moments we are blessed indeed. When these gifts of beauty “fall into our laps”, a great feeling of humility overcomes us and life appears holy. Pity it is that so much of the human mindset concerns itself with having and holding, the haver and holder forgetting that his stratagems in the end will serve only to tangle him up like a helpless insect, and so become our undoing.

Yet, this is the way we learn. Even the Gonzalos, whom I always admired and hoped against hope would somehow outwit – in that way of his – the odds so firmly stacked against him. In these moments of human pain and disbelief we forget that the Soul cannot be cut, torn or killed, (It can only be entrapped and usually by someone placing a charm before it to which it then falls or accepts as reality). I was always in awe of Gonzalo’s courage, even though he seemed a bit foolhardy awash with bravado and so on. May he find himself in a better world and hopefully the lessons he came here to learn sink in, so he will not have to endure such difficulty again. A sad day indeed.

I am glad you have come up with melodic ideas for the lyrics to the various songs/poems I am able to bring here. In fact, after writing my initial somewhat longwinded reply to you (the Virgo in me), I thought, in fact a melody is not that complicated a process, certainly my own best songs or creative ideas in whatever field often come through in an inspired burst, without too much tinkering. The Scottish tradition contains some of the most beautiful melodies ever to grace our human existence and so I’m sure you have enough ‘background music’ ie; rich source material from which to draw your melodic ideas.

An so, blessings, and may you continue to reap inspiration and find joy here in this humble corner of the internet, where like-minded Souls may meet and partake of spiritual bread, so to speak. “The Storm God” is an idea I had for some time which came together all at once. Otherwise, I haven’t been in a serious poetry writing phase for some time (it is Soul consuming, and needs devoted time and effort), but I do have hopes of attaining the same in the future. “Bring to My Grave” is a few years old and dates from The Saker’s Moveable Feast Cafe, where a number of poets inspired each other to rare heights on an almost daily basis. I will continue to share whatever my muse allows/inspires me to bring out of the inner worlds, drawing both from the present moment as well as my past catalogue. If I do share a poem from the past, it generally undergoes a subtle update of one kind or another. In Spirit, D.

Dedicated to the many fallen innocents of late…

Bring To My Grave

Bring to my grave both day and night,
Lilies pink and palest white;
That I may inhale the breath of life,
That I may forget my endless strife.

Bring to my grave both night and day
Roses wrought in fine bouquets;
That I may recall midsummer’s flight,
That I may forget my eternal plight.

Bring to my grave both bread and fruit,
The beat of the drum and the thrill of the lute;
That I may revive this mortal coil,
That I may forget the long despoiled.

Bring to my grave year after year,
The breath of your mouth and the salt of your tear;
That I be reminded of kisses fain,
That I may forget my enduring bane.

Bring to my grave the wings of a bird,
That I may feel my heart be stirred;
That I may remember the freedom of skies,
That I may forget and once again rise!

Thanks for your comment, archeon. I’m flattered and thrilled that you were inspired by the poem. There was a time in my life when I wrote songs (acoustic guitar and vocal melody w. lyrics), which lasted for about 5 years. This was a natural extension of my interest in solo acoustic guitar to which I eventually returned as my main focus where musical composition is concerned. As my friend and producer once said insofar as musical production is concerned, it’s all about how far you want to take these things. After marriage, children + family, my main focus musically (other than visual art; http://www.valenis.net) remains the acoustic guitar, ie; composition, arrangement, performance, which I love and pursue as time, energy and life priorities alllow. As such, I would need a special inspiration to resume songwriting and being compelled by other priorties, my world is essentially narrowed to creative projects I can fit in amongst everything else. I do appreciate your comment and am glad you found the poem inspiring. Are you a musician yourself, and if so, do you have writing and/or performance aspirations? If so, may I suggest trying to set the poem to music yourself. With my world filled to the brim with more existential concerns atm. I cannot see myself seriously putting time aside to put the poem to music, but nor will I rule out the possibility. After all, if you caught the poem as a lyric/melody then this is certainly one direction it could be taken. If you’d like to share some original pieces, please write to amarynth for my email address. Otherwise, although my main musical partner has passed on some 20 years ago, I still have a number of good friends who are very capable musicians and whom I still hold hopes of working with in the future. Currently, I am preparing a large scale composition which will be oil on linen, having focused on graphic work in recent years, and this occupies most of my days. In Spirit, Dimitar