 |
| Led Zeppelin's Houses of the Holy |
Some people comment that my writing isn't transparent on a first or second (or third read). Here is some explanation of the lyrics that I wrote (that go in time with Led Zeppelin's song), after hearing this song one too many times. After reading these comments and the meaning behind my new lyrics, it might make the reading a little more enjoyable.
After extending the story of Houses of the Holy, which isn't really a story but I made it into one from a few of the catchy phrases in the lyrics, the epic story-poem, call it whatever you want, kept telling itself, so to speak, or so to write.
And yes, I listened to the song the ENTIRE time I was writing the each chapter, which means that I listened to the song a lot!
Remember to read while you are listening to Led Zeppelin's song Houses of the Holy. The beat will make the story that much more fun and readable.
I would like to note that I do not enjoy reading "critiques" or "analysis" of literature before reading anything. However, I did need to read Einstein's notes on his Relativity (the version for the layman, which is really too heavy duty for the layman) and found them useful and necessary, and wished the Maestro had written more, more more! Einstein is Maestro II in my Princess Boo Stories. Maestro I is Newton (or the other way around, I forget).
If you are a Led Zeppelin fan as I am, you no doubt love, luv, l-o-v-e Houses of the Holy. The lyrics are copied below:
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Let me take you to the movies. Can I take you to the show
Let me be yours ever truly. Can I make your garden grow
From the houses of the holy, we can watch the white doves go
From the door comes Satan's daughter, and it only goes to show. You know.
There's an angel on my shoulder, In my hand a sword of gold
Let me wander in your garden. And the seeds of love I'll sow. You know.
So the world is spinning faster. Are you dizzy when you're stoned?
Let the music be your master. Will you heed the master's call
Oh... Satan and man.
Said there ain't no use in crying. Cause it will only, only drive you mad
Does it hurt to hear them lying? Was this the only world you had? Oh-oh
Let the music be your master. Will you heed the master's call
Oh... Satan and man.
Said there ain't no use in crying. Cause it will only, only drive you mad
Does it hurt to hear them lying? Was this the only world you had? Oh-oh
So let me take you, take you to the movie. Can I take you, baby, to the show.
Why don't you let me be yours ever truly. Can I make your garden grow
You know.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part I. Sending his Brother Away
I got the pic of Satan’s daughter standing in a doorway to a bordello in Reconstruction Era New Orleans (don’t ask me why New Orleans, maybe because the Orleans casino is a large Southern estate-like mansion on its façade.)
Reconstruction Era, for you furreners (j/k), foreigners, internationals who I love because all seven of you read my writing, lol, is the period in American history after the Civil War. The South went through a very rough period, as after President Lincoln was assassinated, the Northern Congressmen were unforgiving in their policies toward the South. Some would say the deep South deserved such punitive measures. Today, many reenact famous Civil War battles and fly the Confederate flag. (These are the states that voted very red in the election this month, btw.) Evidently, most people did not espouse Abraham Lincoln’s view that:
“I have always found that mercy bears greater fruits than strict justice.”
If Lincoln had said “punishment” in lieu of “justice” I think I might have agreed with him more, in light of the word “always” also being in there. I think he meant: with “strict administration of the law, justice is not always served because no law is perfect, being either too over-inclusive or not enough, and not being able to tailor judgments to every single situation. But we all get the point.
Anyway, and she’s standing there (Satan’s daughter, sorry for the digression), much like Mae West in “Diamond Lil”. But of course, she has to be waiting for somebody or somebody has to be passing by that catches her eye, or vice versa. Satan’s daughter, not Mae West, or maybe both. J or all three, Diamond Lil, too.
Who else but Michael, since he’s got his flaming sword in hand. So the story begins, and soon I found myself daydreaming about famous scenes from the Bible, that are well documented in gilded paintings on doorway panels in Byzantine and Eastern Orthodox Churches, as well as ornately carved panels in Western Cathedrals.
Part I, posted earlier, tells of Michael readying for battle with Lucifer, who was the original bad-ass archangel, bigger than Michael back then. When Lucifer gathers his host of angels that are willing to follow him into battle against God, God sends Archangel Michael, God’s new right-hand man, er, angel.
In the first part of this epic poem, Michael is readying for battle. He’s donning his chain mail (don’t ask me why angels need armor) over his wings (feather, not rainbow wings). His chain mail is a bit corroded and stinky because Michael never bathes, as angels need not. However, chain mail does need upkeep even if angels do not. After all those battles, the perspiration and blood, if indeed angels bleed or sweat, must take its toll on Michael’s armor and garments. Since angels are sinless (except Lucifer and those who went down with him), Michael doesn’t need to shower, so the joke here is that pure Michael might be a bit stinky (only something that people who are sensitive to the slightest odors would think about, Eew).
That’s also why Michael might feel a bit bland, as some philosophical schools of thought would agree that good cannot exist without evil, since there would be nothing by which to compare the former (or the latter). How do you know what is good if there is no bad? (Or the idea of “evil”?) Thus, badness is not such a bad thing and a necessity. In my epic story poem at least.
Gabs of course is Archangel Gabriel, the Bearer of Good Tidings since he appeared before the Virgin Mary to tell her that the child she was bearing was from God. That’s why he’s all happy and has bouncy curls (that was in an older version). Michael has salon-fatigued curls (later chapter) because he’s unsettled in mind and spirit for some reason, especially after seeing Satan’s daughter.
Looking out to heaven’s blue sky (which is never red, btw), Michael sees the approach of his brother Lucifer, which makes him sad, Michael, not Lucifer. For although the Bible and most fire-and-brimstone religions are black and white, I cannot imagine brothers who truly love each other being happy about killing each other and never seeing the other again. Although the Bible tells of God being sad that Lucifer was lost, the general tone of the Church is pretty cold towards Satan.
That’s what’s behind Michael’s “queer mix of love” for his brother Lucifer, as Lucifer, knowing heaven and sin is the only of the archangels to know (in the Biblical sense of having lived) right from wrong, to be distinguished from Archangel Michael, who knows in theory what is right and wrong but has only ever practiced “right”.
I correct myself: On this day, if heaven is measured in such terms, heaven does bleed with red, so I guess the skies must have been pretty purple (or maybe lavender since heaven is light blue. Actually, you would probably get a darkish reddish purple. Merely wishful thinking on my part since lavender is a happier color.)
Lucifer’s nickname is Luz (no, not in the Bible, in my story), which means “light” in Spanish. That leads into my reference to the morning star, Venus, which some would not approve as some do not believe that devils should be referred to as guiding stars.
I don’t care because this is my poem. So, crank up Led Zep’s Houses of the Holy and read this poem to its tempo. You’ll see it reads pretty darn well.
Friend me on Facebook!
On to Part Due.
What I Said When I saw Salvador Dali's Metamorphosis of Narcissus
Why don't you let me be yours ever truly. Can I make your garden grow
You know.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part I. Sending his Brother Away
I got the pic of Satan’s daughter standing in a doorway to a bordello in Reconstruction Era New Orleans (don’t ask me why New Orleans, maybe because the Orleans casino is a large Southern estate-like mansion on its façade.)
Reconstruction Era, for you furreners (j/k), foreigners, internationals who I love because all seven of you read my writing, lol, is the period in American history after the Civil War. The South went through a very rough period, as after President Lincoln was assassinated, the Northern Congressmen were unforgiving in their policies toward the South. Some would say the deep South deserved such punitive measures. Today, many reenact famous Civil War battles and fly the Confederate flag. (These are the states that voted very red in the election this month, btw.) Evidently, most people did not espouse Abraham Lincoln’s view that:
“I have always found that mercy bears greater fruits than strict justice.”
If Lincoln had said “punishment” in lieu of “justice” I think I might have agreed with him more, in light of the word “always” also being in there. I think he meant: with “strict administration of the law, justice is not always served because no law is perfect, being either too over-inclusive or not enough, and not being able to tailor judgments to every single situation. But we all get the point.
Anyway, and she’s standing there (Satan’s daughter, sorry for the digression), much like Mae West in “Diamond Lil”. But of course, she has to be waiting for somebody or somebody has to be passing by that catches her eye, or vice versa. Satan’s daughter, not Mae West, or maybe both. J or all three, Diamond Lil, too.
Who else but Michael, since he’s got his flaming sword in hand. So the story begins, and soon I found myself daydreaming about famous scenes from the Bible, that are well documented in gilded paintings on doorway panels in Byzantine and Eastern Orthodox Churches, as well as ornately carved panels in Western Cathedrals.
Part I, posted earlier, tells of Michael readying for battle with Lucifer, who was the original bad-ass archangel, bigger than Michael back then. When Lucifer gathers his host of angels that are willing to follow him into battle against God, God sends Archangel Michael, God’s new right-hand man, er, angel.
In the first part of this epic poem, Michael is readying for battle. He’s donning his chain mail (don’t ask me why angels need armor) over his wings (feather, not rainbow wings). His chain mail is a bit corroded and stinky because Michael never bathes, as angels need not. However, chain mail does need upkeep even if angels do not. After all those battles, the perspiration and blood, if indeed angels bleed or sweat, must take its toll on Michael’s armor and garments. Since angels are sinless (except Lucifer and those who went down with him), Michael doesn’t need to shower, so the joke here is that pure Michael might be a bit stinky (only something that people who are sensitive to the slightest odors would think about, Eew).
That’s also why Michael might feel a bit bland, as some philosophical schools of thought would agree that good cannot exist without evil, since there would be nothing by which to compare the former (or the latter). How do you know what is good if there is no bad? (Or the idea of “evil”?) Thus, badness is not such a bad thing and a necessity. In my epic story poem at least.
Gabs of course is Archangel Gabriel, the Bearer of Good Tidings since he appeared before the Virgin Mary to tell her that the child she was bearing was from God. That’s why he’s all happy and has bouncy curls (that was in an older version). Michael has salon-fatigued curls (later chapter) because he’s unsettled in mind and spirit for some reason, especially after seeing Satan’s daughter.
Looking out to heaven’s blue sky (which is never red, btw), Michael sees the approach of his brother Lucifer, which makes him sad, Michael, not Lucifer. For although the Bible and most fire-and-brimstone religions are black and white, I cannot imagine brothers who truly love each other being happy about killing each other and never seeing the other again. Although the Bible tells of God being sad that Lucifer was lost, the general tone of the Church is pretty cold towards Satan.
That’s what’s behind Michael’s “queer mix of love” for his brother Lucifer, as Lucifer, knowing heaven and sin is the only of the archangels to know (in the Biblical sense of having lived) right from wrong, to be distinguished from Archangel Michael, who knows in theory what is right and wrong but has only ever practiced “right”.
I correct myself: On this day, if heaven is measured in such terms, heaven does bleed with red, so I guess the skies must have been pretty purple (or maybe lavender since heaven is light blue. Actually, you would probably get a darkish reddish purple. Merely wishful thinking on my part since lavender is a happier color.)
Lucifer’s nickname is Luz (no, not in the Bible, in my story), which means “light” in Spanish. That leads into my reference to the morning star, Venus, which some would not approve as some do not believe that devils should be referred to as guiding stars.
I don’t care because this is my poem. So, crank up Led Zep’s Houses of the Holy and read this poem to its tempo. You’ll see it reads pretty darn well.
Friend me on Facebook!
On to Part Due.
~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~
MY OTHER WRITINGS
