Thursday, December 26, 2013

Bob Dylan songs and letters from the Queen of Swords

January 2016

February 4, 2015


     Render me willing to state there is no agenda, no motive -- but love and admiration.  In the wakefulness of youth, explanation and expression were favored --  realities ignored, obstacles contrived and substitutes and absolutes served as resolution. Now, that the gods appear determined to forge our souls, assurance insists it was felicity and reflection that stayed the course.
     Your enigmatic wistfulness and my insatiable importuning aside, mutual veils of enticement conspired.  Never was there a man as moving and inspiring, never one so easy to love and so fearsome to be in love with.

     Render me willing to confess that before Oneiros rules and Eos is enveloped by mauve twilight, recollections of tangled pleasure are unfurled of one exultant moment on the avenue, when our hearts and minds collided and proved to be a lifelong focal point, signifying the veracity of your regard and the unalloyed apotheosis of my devotion.

     The belief that the difficulty of having achieved a result is in direct proportion to its value resonates.  Striving to overlook unease and ensnared by perceived necessity, confidence was placed in the hands of strangers and matters I would have private were disclosed. Thus, inexplicably and uniquely framed by uncompromising circumstances, it was with devotion and tenacity I struggled to dovetail my role to your needs. 

     Render me willing to pay tribute to the narrow slip-shod shreds of our steadfast lifeboat that so valiantly navigated our misadventures -- while we designated the space between us sacrosanct and our joint efforts yielded gratification.  The world was gifted with your viewpoint and your by beauty sanctified creations, endorsed the certainty of ideal love and welcomed your admirers to experience pleasure that will remain inviolate.

     You imprisoned promises between fruitful shades of time and perfected a dream.  To dissuade memories of fathomless depths of deprivation is my intent, convinced now that you, with whom my mind merged and with whom my heart grew accustomed to respond, determined that traditional intimacy was not to be part and parcel of our attachment.  May I no longer dwell on the fact that my involvement invited interest and assurance, but was insufficient for conventional familiarity.  Notwithstanding these considerations, dear heart, who is to say you have not honored me with the very best of you?

     Render me willing to give credence to insight few could perceive -- graceful dreamscapes that we visited together, whose concealed participants would not endorse the possibility their union was naught but a disreputable game flaunting itself as romance.  Desirability and fascination were genuine and indisputable our determination to disregard glacial absurdities and the finality of spent feelings.

      Seductive regardless and throughout and despite declarations to the contrary, our rebelliousness succumbed to limitations as we became embroiled in an unwise investment in borrowed time.  The threshold of endurance was denied, treason masqueraded as holiness and despite defiance, doubt would not be vanquished.  Let us now banish the waywardness, mon cher frere, that reigned when too much was assumed and too much consumed.

     Render me willing to reluctantly surrender to resignation. Insubstantial wraith like runes on a contemporary monitor is all I see of you and it is compelling to refrain from employing age, loss of vivacity and comeliness as an excuse.  Needful for me as well is to attempt to demote pride, which was once called forth to bolster value, as inconsequential.  Consent to witness my pledge that I am disposed to forgive your trepidation and indifference and implore you to absolve me from not employing outrageous and invasive insolence to meet you and when you were free, the powerlessness to obtain the prerequisite connections and resources to encounter you once the right time and place.

     With your Celonese sapphire eyes and your inviting lips, historical relevance,  inherited superiority and inherent exoticism intact, the captivity of love was eclipsed. Insanity became our testament and our symbolic "marriage blanc" evolved into graceful ethereal Sephardic trysts and romantic imaginings. Were we at the mercy of fortune's hand or a case for confidence and valor when we avoided the greedy vortex of vengeance and defied danger, moments before the consuming maw of annihilation?
     Render me willing to state that we will obviously soon be overcome and  "heaven" will take our senses from us in exchange for dreams alone.  Therefore, like a high wire act, let us encourage each other to now offer a tender emotional refuge that conceals the switchblade uncertainty of love and grant us the freedom to experience this time, these thoughts ... these feelings.

     Let us strive to forgive the long and wasted years and harness courage to cherish the memory of loving attachment before we are waylaid.  Like a twin flame, you and I will be joined in a sheltered sanctum where we may defy all odds and in silence let misgivings and missteps sort themselves out.

     Render me willing to endorse my readiness to revisit the dreamtime when naught but regard and solicitude favored us -- when hope was flagrantly alive, convincing us to believe paradise was to be found on earth.  Allow me to believe that you would accept me still to rest beside you without demand or expectation -- or, that I finally come to terms with your unwillingness or inability not to do so and I will draw about me the comfort of once having been the only star in your firmament.

    A nightly ritual of revisiting past pleasures is hereby disclosed and although disappointment made an appearance, your provocative lyrics and virtuoso melodies outweighed belligerent sadness and faltering self-esteem.  Love is not happiness and doubt and condemnation may accompany empathy, but my spirit was nurtured, my soul consoled and passion's intense exhilarating crescendo flight spared me from enduring colorless and fruitless wandering.

     Render me willing to deny the perceived entitlement of your promising courtly missives and bypass the guardians of stolid conditioning.  Let us judge our actions not by common measures but celebrate our resourcefulness.  The history of your creations' expressive uniqueness and the excellence of your noteworthy achievements, which have gifted so many with enjoyment, will always be gratefully cherished.

     Your prodigious, original gifts were witnessed and valued and your incomparable god-given aptitude and indisputable renown long ago assured your rightful place in the pantheon of greatness.  "John Wesley Harding" and later, unlikely happenstance, conveyed me to the crossroads and our recalcitrant disposition and rootless roving hurtled us from a private cocoon into an incendiary situation.  Nevertheless, even in the face of our lingering separation, an imprint of tangential significance was created through steadfastness and regard.  

     Render me willing to recognize acceptance must be summoned in lieu of comforting embraces, but in our time and in our way, outstanding one, ardor and inspiration was ours.  Lastingly joined as we are, do we not now agree how easily we have connected to do each other's bidding and reflect how strangely things have come to pass?

     Let us endeavor to continue to marvel that certain sensational songs, seemingly generated by a divided will, were composed by your hands to enchant, provoke emotion, entertain, invoke empathy and playfully engage the mind long after sound ceases.  Allow me to reiterate my impassioned wish that you would not have had it otherwise.  Burdened as you are, by an immense gift, I trust you also respect that worship was rejected in favor of understanding and awareness... and that to this day, I encourage you, unadorned and without stratagem or subterfuge, to rest easy.

     Render me willing to return to a measure of untainted clarity before our willful natures asserted themselves and expectations dominated, before potent potions made an appearance that initially transported the senses, but eventually made inroads, yielding confusion and the dereliction of spirit. Let us aspire to come unto the world once again with unsullied idealism and the audacity of ignorance -- before hope was relied upon to aid belief, as we strove against all odds to circumvent the collusion of worldly power.

    Let us consider how we might escape from a past that transcended baseness but also muddied our lives with sorrow and attempts to quantify our love with rigid parameters that resulted in romantic fancies, when we were most vulnerable to implode from disillusionment.  In more respectful, generous terms, our arrangement maintained and compounded a rare and elevated state of attraction and art -- the potent tension before heat turns to flame and thus we find ourselves in the present.

     Render me willing to daydream without reserve, wherein I seek your benediction and you claim me still.  Beguiled, inspired and driven, my entranced feelings have not altered since the inception of our togetherness.  Recollections abound when we examined religious conviction, pondered affairs of state, danced to folk tunes and drowned in blue timbres born of cruel outrage, while nurtured by your celebrated poet's laurels, we were spirited forward and our innermost precious hearts' delight was graced with love  -- exclusive, irreplaceable and incomparable in its universality.

     In the cause and effect of the dervish rhythm of existence, persuade me to accept with faith and trust my life engendered more than sustenance from the mind numbing routine of wage earning servitude and remember that if ardor and courage gave us momentum, the indefinable influences of mystical powers from another dimension, fostered and abetted by my unproven self, conveyed their will and in subtle ways for a time enlivened your heartrending laments and intrepid star power...or was it their care?

     Render me willing to dismiss those with loathsome proclivities and low life inclinations whose hateful, savage, lurid acts destroy and offer no apologies for my outsider recluse ways --  a revolt against repression and opposition to a proliferating thrust of an alleged necessity to be constantly informed, incessantly pursued by offensive hard sell and inundated with seemingly endless inane trivia...amid the tooth and claw realities of an oft times violent planet, that threatens to burst the seams of existence.

     Forgive for being prone to contrived obfuscation and harebrained inhibition which obscured insecurity and innate enthusiasm, as if to keep the common capriciousness of relationships at bay.  Providentially, I was also granted the disposition to be conscious of nature's majestic displays and immersed in the wonder of its limitless, intricate, and awesome continuation, its affirmative reemergence echoing recollections of a divine sanctuary, a spacious, consecrated sacristy where ceaseless hectoring voices have long ceased and an anchorite listened to a sonorous chorister sing a quiescent hymn -- and the world paid attention.

     Render me willing to be determined to evade, if possible, memories of all too human self-indulgent rage and jealousy, while you expressed our connection with provocative, unexpected transparency and the luminosity of your songs filled my soul's need. Therefore, if recent rumors be fact, let me say naught concerning your requirements, other than it is not an obligation to honor debacles of farcical excess with funeral rites of what would be, for me, an already thrice born bereavement. You and I will meet again, dear, on the other side.

     Among sacred rapture, pontifical embellishments, flamboyant grandeur or the pernicious enmity of being negated and eclipsed, I wonder had I demonstrated irreproachable amicability, might it have tipped the scales?  Be that as it may -- years of solitude were endured and of late more than a decade of celibacy. Punishment for sin, or reprieve from a mission to serve somebody? Wrongdoing is always in evidence, but archaic seem the ways of sin in love and war, but then I must also confess suspiciously perfidious may be my self-deception.  If Fortuna turns the wheel after all, ours was a bond that embraced sublimity, anchored emotional constancy and improbable perseverance -- defined by a touching, consanguineous, ever inspiring cohabitation in a charmed lunar dominion not easily set aside.

     Render me willing therefore, beloved, to reel in good tidings before dismay and regret have further opportunity --to undertake, beloved, severing obsession from love and despair from affection, so that we might yet be redeemed and draw comfort and thanksgiving from the night.

Queen of Swords

"Hazel" by Bob Dylan

"Beyond Here Lies Nothing" by Bob Dylan (great song but oh that video--hopefully its meant to be entirely metaphorical -- maybe I don't get it 'cause I've not been in that situation, that is to say I got out in my last serious relationship before it got to THAT point)


"I Feel a Change Coming On" by Bob Dylan


"Lay Lady Lay" by Bob Dylan

"Tangled Up in Blue" by Bob Dylan

"Make You Feel My Love" by Bob Dylan

Any Day Now I Shall Be Released

"Shelter from the Storm" by Bob Dylan

"Blowing in the Wind" by Bob Dylan


"Forgetful Heart" by Bob Dylan

"I Want You" by Bob Dylan
"I Want You" by Bob Dylan


August 2014


Troubadour at the Helm*

     Many a nascent and duly programmed and closeted free spirit lay in wait in the mind-numbing environs along the outer reaches of what we perceived as civilization.  Whipped into shape by parental prudence we yearned to uncover previous generations' indoctrinated boundaries -- to burrow inward, or flee heedlessly exploring distances--often deceptively close.

      Disillusioned by stultifying, if benign, complacency and false security, or  disheartened by unexpected brutal pronouncements, the first stone was cast and with it began the saga we fervently craved to own. Unknowing, rancorous and unrepentant in our ignorance, guarded, impregnated with utilitarian sensibilities--raucous, ebullient divertissements beckoned from metropolitan hives... slyly baring their distinction of difference.

       Possibilities summoned and burgeoning examples engaged us, while war and assassinations occurred, some protested while others conceived ideas for an enhanced life. Concurrently, our unblemished moon, succumbing to mankind's curiosity, was scavenged for souvenirs and marked with what will, in future, surely be considered an archaic concept of nationality.

      Change -- its allure strange, colorful and mysterious was unleashed. Oblivious the counterculture was but a fraction of the whole, appropriated and seduced, we surged forward, saturated with age old visceral longing.  Blindly tasting, with unswerving certitude, we sought undiscovered truths -- our undeveloped selves avid for awareness and comprehension.

      Discarded were coddled asphyxiating restraints of cocooned youth and preconceived beliefs of conventional morality and conformist matrimony. With wild abandon we rallied forth with n'er a backward glance, catapulted into a new age, reckless with unbound, uncompromising liberties. Pursuit was our byword.

      It was a time careless, wild and stupid with hope. The floodgates opened and nothing, we were convinced, could be lost or damaged, nothing betrayed.  Yielding to the wakefulness of the moment, for a brief period, harmony ensued.

      Having already made his mark, a Troubadour, possessing talismanic power, entered the mainstream. A radical, controversial, ingenious provocateur -- he passionately unleashed protest against wrongdoers and with hauteur and vitriol put imbeciles in their place.  At the footstool of seemingly indifferent deities, he shouted his outrage and unfurled unvarnished accounts of benighted humanity's heroism and barbarism.

      Legends arise from extraordinary deeds, creations, power, zeal, talent and vision. Like a wizard, with pharaonic impact, he uncoupled what was extraordinary from the ordinary and unsheathed a refined cornucopia of style.  His birthright, an iconic profile, luminescent cherubic curls and unsettling eyes, a color only ancient pearl hunters may have once beheld, he emanated command and innovative brilliance

      The capstone in a musical renaissance, he created original, eloquent poetry with irrepressible √©lan and plangent, memorable melodies that conveyed love's tender largesse and bitterness. Cloaked in sophistication, his were influential, unexplored, apocryphal sorties into artistic unexplored avenues.

      His talent transformed him into an incandescent myth and before long his persona was perceived as that of an almost visionary effigy.  In time, in an artists' enclave of a hundred years, in response to a grave personal awakening and in stark contrast to the phantasmagoric, psychedelic flights of carnivalesque musical expression then in evidence, he composed austere, sage, compelling songs, christened with an outlaw's name.

      The otherworldly, polished beauty and pathos of "I shall be "Released captured my heart and spirit.  My psyche became enmeshed and entrenched in his world -- the linchpin of a lifelong fascination and esteem.  His spell-binding aura, his ascetic mystique and the bold male gravitas of his voice,  galvanized me to initiate the untoward act of befriending him with the written word.  In the best of terms, it was desire to shore up his spirits and mitigate his seemingly disconsolate sorrows.  

      Entranced, bedeviled, uninformed and benighted, willingly I met my fate.

      As a collection of harmonious, romantic, mellifluous songs would subsequently attest, the skyline was transformed and delight was no longer only a seraph's province--I was irretrievably beguiled.

      Imagination suggested one day we would encounter one another beneath a pristine verdant arboreal canopy -- a mystical nave with luminescent lancets of sun glinting and ribbons of light illuminating flickering dancing light-headed life... above the damascene cushioned treads of our imprints.

      Sequestered and enveloped in this arboreal place, we would stand transfixed, a black and white still life, a prototype of memory from another life -- assaulted by the significance and intense impression of the moment, by hard-edged clarity and inescapable impression -- like purposeful silver snaking alluvial rivers, implacably, inexorably hastening to oceans rife with bequests,

      Subsistence for his continuance was confirmed by his enduring talent and persuasive, transcendent contributions -- reflecting talented highways traveled, innovative accomplishments and fables of old.  Thoughts, dreams, beliefs and ideas were  presented with stunning expertise--a ballast for grave consideration and heartfelt, sanctified acknowledgement.

      Among thousands of stories twined in and about his life, for me, arrangements soon became unglued and in my helplessness, despair and shameful loss -- surrender to circumstance dictated my actions.  A child answered and in its being, maternal resolve, fealty and determination persisted with which freedom, romance and art could not compete.  Unwittingly, in an out of the way basement, the mood was playful.

      Admired and invited, veracity and sincerity questioned, promises made and unfulfilled made for emotional turmoil.  The tightrope of avowals of love, remonstrations, contrition, affection and reconcilement ushered in emotional fragility and thus overwhelmed, I was unhinged.

      For those who cannot distinguish love from obsession, ego was checkmated by the fact we were attuned -- there was altruism, reciprocal affirmation of attraction, as well as emotional intimacy and exceptional rapport.  The playing field was further leveled in that although many worshipped him, it was his acceptance and indulgence evident in his responses to me, that allowed the connection to evolve to more than one would have expected.

      The alchemy of consanguinity was the crucible.  Thus we retain credibility, as forgiveness allows for armor against doleful reflections of diminished returns.  In  the here and now, in terms of the divine retribution and biblical righteousness, I must concede past thoughtlessness -- what may be by some deemed sin and turpitude, and which has resulted in years of solitude, seclusion and estrangement.

      The elusive, recalcitrant and ever-present cast of the moment between us, however, was ever palliated by mutual amicability and in most loving terms, the emotional and poetic alignment was to be possessed and to possess.  Who is to say Judgment may not yet award this secret honor with flowered circles of distinction.

      It was you, beloved Sainchaidh, who awakened and fostered hearts to absorb wisdom.  Imbued with riveting exuberant exquisiteness, did you not assiduously gather tradition and emerging currents and fuse a gathering of influences by any means possible?  

      Was there a grand plan afoot when first you saw the light of day and clamored for attention? Did you not supersede your expectations and engrave your name on our times?  Your songs achieved immortality and it is entirely possible you may have facilitated a change in our world for the better.

        Your ineffable and nuanced spirit, invested love for family, friends and God. Did you reckon on a connection fraught with intrigue and temptation?  But were we not dedicated, nay devoted in our willingness and cooperation -- even if always one measure short of satisfaction? As the years rampaged through our lives, did we not, despite self reproach, regret and disheartening powerlessness, nevertheless still seek comfort?

       What Faustian pact determined these predilections? In what ancient grimoire was this malediction devised, or was it secreted in a consecrated reliquary? In the background, despairing of duplicity and games of brinkmanship were perpetuated by need -- tenuous, and cast in second hand resignation, for me, the way forward led back.  In the foreground, with elegiac brio, blessed with divinely granted aptitude and panache, you created yet another masterpiece.

       So lips were not meant with flesh to be acquainted and a courtly pavane of touch between alabaster crosier and scabbard did not take place -- but given another time and place, when troubadours wandered the land and destriers and palfreys were corralled by man's dominance, stabled separately and harnessed by disparate entities...once unbridled, recalling vestigial instinct, freedom would induce them to  prance, cavort and abscond together.    

       Many forsaken spun out decades of separation and forlorn vigils gave birth to mournful yearning songs of pathos and salvation. Having dared my best to attempt to master the tightrope between your liberality and your reticence, escorted by rejection, acts of kindness and condemnation remembrance took hold,

       Like jesses ground a kestrel, so I was bound to the Troubadour...occasionally free to follow my nature, but always to return to him with a token seeking comfort and reward. Fretted by our experience we spoke of resolution, but our obdurate selves made a prison and set the clock implacably after midnight.  Lavish ebullient accolades of adamantine glory, laced with acidic imprecations invariably followed.

       As the years hounded each other, hurtled into other unfathomable realities, questing for soul and deity, revelations and elucidation, portals to an undisclosed world were presented, visible intrusions of the paranormal illuminated for me the mystical rapture of nature's and humankind's capability for mythical results and craven choices.

       As time suggested escalation of companionship and commonality, our bond grew tenuous and our link frail but embedded in a dream, sermons to refresh the spirit and lingering memories were conjoined with tenacious devotion. Intense and delicate are the splendors I take with me for the Troubadour at the helm fevered my spirit with delight and yearning and exposed the need for togetherness until at last our minds capitulated and collided.

      Eventually Justice's arrangement of payment for fame and riches are extracted, as is inevitable for pauper alike, and a mirthless meeting will place when and where the Great Recycler never capitulates.

        But our time has not yet come and since times past immemorial the call of a rapacious raptor still makes itself known on a full moon night when all seems to exist to demonstrate intransigence.  In the sylvan cathedral woods birds will still declare our story and a zephyr affirm our presence and ancient gnarled tree elders continue to embrace sun, cloud, rain and snow, symbiotic in their share -- integral components of that which has been bestowed.

        In this sacred, pontifical framework designated life, I adored you and you favored me. Like a confluence of rivers sustains and nourishes, the infinite wraithlike domain of inspiration prompts and translates melody and lyrics, as thought to deed.

An Admirer 
"Queen of Swords"

"Peace will come
With tranquility and splendor on the wheels of fire
But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall
And cruel death surrenders with its pale ghost retreating
Between the King and the Queen of Swords."   

By Bob Dylan from "Changing of the Guards"

*Note: Queen of Swords obviously is a pseudonym, however, all material in various blogs has been copyrighted.
Poster by Peter Max

"A woman who stops to give something for nothing is either worth her weight in gold or doesn't have enough sense to get out of the rain"

by his "sister"
"All I Want to Do"

The Light and Grace of Starless Wanderers

...'Til the wheels fall off"
Long Have I Desired
..."bottom of the barrel"

Dylanesque- Troubador at the Helm
Re: Bob Dylan

January 2016

Pertaining to" Lay Lady Lay" - The Subtext of her Life

NOTE:  Authorship (copyrighted material) of this and other blogs (a limited selection of work) PSEUDONYMS:  GENERAL: Hazel Brock, Hazel Badger  POETRY: Queen of Swords, NOVELS: Clifford Riker, Rebecca Rockwell  INTERNET: Peggy Day, Stephanie Badger,  et al , ARTWORK: AlexRa
All writings by Alexandra S. Lukas-Dallas