O Discordia!

I've not yet figured out much of a running functionality to The Oracular Beard yet and I'm getting into a habit of just posting something whenever I feel like it.  In the coming weeks, I'm going to bust my hump to make a more streamlined effort in making my web presence established.

So today, for your listening and reading enjoyment, I'm posting one of the debut songs from my new musical collective Whitman's Ghost.  The chorus and musical arrangement is by band member Aron Agerton and the verses are adapted from the poem of the same name by yours truly.

Whitman's Ghost. O Discordia.

This is the original poem for you.  It was after a break-up where I wasn't sure where I was headed, but remembered all the pain I'd been getting, but at the same time dishing out my own.  Definitely wasn't on the path I was needing to be on.

It's also got a bunch of literary reference, the majority of which come from Stephen King's magnum opus The Dark Tower.  It's this sprawling western/fantasy epic that kicks butt over seven novels (there's more now) and has some pretty strong connections to the rest of his work.  All told, there's a bunch of reference that has our main character spinning his wheels trying to make up for his past.

O Discordia

I am me, and you are not

I am the last thing that I've got

all these open doors will soon be shut

here I come, ready or not

I have not forgot the face of my father

or the clearing at the end of the path

the direction of my travels tend to wander

until I'm faced with the aftermath

I'm going down, my guns a-blazin'

out of bullets when I turn to the sword

zig and zag those peals of lightning

as if I'd forgotten what I'm fighting for

I am me, and you are not

I am the last thing that I've got

all these open doors will soon be shut

here I come, ready or not

bodies piled high in the courtyard

it's not the outcome we deserve

seeing through shades of gray is so hard

when all along it's the white we're to serve

not that I aim to take no prisoners

the price to fight for our sake

and as the ranks are growing thinner

dead and wounded lie in our wake

bang bang, shoot shoot

we deal our trade in lead

happiness is a warm gun

forever pointed at your head

call off these harriers

please, please, and thankee sai

break down these barriers

and remove the plank from my eye

all is quiet on the western front

not a sound to be heard

picking, poking, prodding at the remains

is a single, solitary bird

this old crow's wings been clipped

hopping back and forth from corpse to corpse

all that's left that seems alive

is this sputtering, guttering, blackened torch

I am me, and you are not

I am the last thing that I've got

all these open doors will soon be shut

here I come, ready or not

Buy the first book here!

Don't click on this next link unless you want major spoilers to the series!

Discordia