Category Archives: Music

Just an Itty-Bitty Fraction of a Song…

So, little known fact:  Sometimes I write songs for Apollon.  Even rarer still, sometimes I record them.  I recorded this little bit earlier this evening and shared it to my FB, thinking that would be the end of it.  Um, no…

Apollon:  You know you’re going to put this on your blog right?

Me:  Are you kidding?  FB wasn’t enough?

Apollon:  You know better, darling.

Me:  I can’t sing…

Apollon:  *laughs*

Me:  I’m serious…

Apollon:  So am I.

Soooooo, yeah.  I can only record about a minute at a time because my internet is super slow right now, that’s why the next part will be a while, but thanks to Apollon, you get to hear part one.  And really, He’s the one to thank, because *I* really want to curl into a ball of embarrassment, and disappear.

Call to Apollon, part 1

Apollon, come into my life
I have opened the doors
I see You in the bleak afternoon
When the storm breaks upon the shore

I know You in the calm waterways
I’ve seen You in the warm summer rays
But now in my life I need You to recognize
That I am so weary without You

Apollon, walk into my heart
You have been given the key
To release all the troubles that have burdened me
For so long, and such a fitful life

[Image on the recording is “Apollon” by PeyotaS on DeviantArt.  I think. Please offer corrections if I’m wrong.]



“This is not the end.  Each breath is a new beginning.  Life continues even after the fall.  What is unknown is not the wall which stands between you and the next leg of the journey, but instead is the creeping ivy that you must climb to traverse the wall.  You are not yet strong enough to dismantle or destroy the wall, yet you may move forward from it.  Choose to.  Choose life.  Choose the unknown, for it is better for you now than what is known.

“To escape the prison of thought and action which compels you, you must be willing to experience the newness calling now.  You are worth the time. You are worth the expense. You are worth the pain of lancing the wound. Fear not the pain, for you are worthy, and when you stand on the other side of the wall, you will only laugh at the superficial scratches and bruises that were acquired in the climb.  Choose the climb.  Choose life.  Choose yourself, for no one else can make your choices for you.”  — Apollon


Lost again
Broken and weary
Unable to find my way
Tail in hand
Dizzy and clearly unable to
Just let this go

I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown
Catch me heal me lift me back up to the sun
I choose to live

I fell again
Like a baby unable to stand on my own
Tail in hand
Dizzy and clearly unable to just let this go
I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown
Catch me heal me lift me back up to the sun
I choose to live, I choose to live, I choose to live

Catch me heal me lift me back up to the sun
Help me survive the bottom

Calm these hands before they
Snare another pill and
Drive another nail down another
Needy hole please release me

I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown
Catch me heal me lift me back up to the sun
I choose to live, I choose to live

Anticipation and Restlessness…

…A Message From Apollon, to a Particular Person…

“Life is transient.  Time, for you, is finite.  You wonder where it all leads?  Why not to enjoyment?  Is that not a worthy enough goal in the life of one so torn between the Worlds?  There will be enough Work after your passing. Now, live.  Just live.  You worry, and live so little.  It is known that restlessness seeps from your bones into the soil.  You worry the Land with your anticipation.  Just live with the Land, and when your life ends, the Land will embrace your eager longing.”  — Apollon

Little Cream Soda

One, two, three, four!

Well every highway that I go down
Seems to be longer than the last one that I knew about
Oh well

And every girl that I walk around
Seems to be more of an illusion than the last one I found
Oh well

And this old man in front of me wearing canes and ruby rings
And it’s like a dang explosion when he sings

And with every chance to set himself on fire,
He just ends up doin’ the same thing

Well, each beautiful thing I come across
Tells me to stop moving and shake this riddle off
Oh well

And there was a time when all I wanted
Was my ice cream colder and a little cream soda
Oh well, oh well

And a wooden box and an alley full of rocks
Was all I had to care about
Oh well, oh well, oh well

Now my mind is filled with rubber tires and forest fires
And whether I’m a liar
And lots of other situations
Where I don’t know what to do
At which time God screams to me
There’s nothing left for me to tell you
Nothing left for me to tell you
Nothing left
Oh well, oh well, oh well, oh well
Oh well, oh well, oh well, oh well

An Unabashed Music Post, With Relevancy

One of my oldest friends just introduced me to this amazing artist.  I’ve been in the dark, apparently.  :)

John Keats, Hymn to Apollo

I love this, but I’m not convinced these are the actual lyrics here being sung. Mostly because I can only make out about twenty percent of what she’s saying. What I can hear doesn’t seem to match what’s consistently been given as the lyrics in every search I’ve performed, so…  oh well?  The words, as a poem, are phenomenal in my opinion, and the song alone is worth a listen, whether or not they are a perfect match.  Besides, I could be wrong, and if I am, please do correct me.  And if you happen to have the actual lyrics, please leave them in the comments, if you can.  Thank you, and enjoy!


God of the golden bow,

And of the golden lyre,

And of the golden hair,

And of the golden fire,

Charioteer Of the patient year,

Where—where slept thine ire,

When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath,

Thy laurel, thy glory,

The light of thy story,

Or was I a worm—too low crawling for death?

O Delphic Apollo!

The Thunderer grasp’d and grasp’d,

The Thunderer frown’d and frown’d;

The eagle’s feathery mane

For wrath became stiffen’d—the sound

Of breeding thunder

Went drowsily under,

Muttering to be unbound.

O why didst thou pity, and beg for a worm?

Why touch thy soft lute

Till the thunder was mute,

Why was I not crush’d—such a pitiful germ?

O Delphic Apollo!

The Pleiades were up,

Watching the silent air;

The seeds and roots in Earth

Were swelling for summer fare;

The Ocean, its neighbour,

Was at his old labour,

When, who—who did dare

To tie for a moment, thy plant round his brow,

And grin and look proudly,

And blaspheme so loudly,

And live for that honour, to stoop to thee now?

O Delphic Apollo!