Gwnewch y pethau bychain

Tag: creative Page 9 of 17

There is a drawback…

So, on #filkhaven, the discussion came around for some reason to scouting, leading to this discussion:

mew: Oh man… I am seriously going through nostalgia here. I’m looking at all these camp songs I haven’t heard in years and years because one of C’s teachers was trying to remember the words to one. Sheesh. 🙂
Mary: *grin*
Mary: It would be fun to have a “camp songs” theme filk
***phydeaux_busy goes off to get more tea and a plateful of greasy, grimy gopher guts
Hitch: I once got away with singing a ‘camp song’ at the first UK filk Con
Hitch: well, not so much camp as Cub Scout…we used to be known as Wold Cubs, but that was before the Scouting association banned lycanthropy
Mary: *blink* What’s Wold?
Hitch: could be Wolf Cubs but based in the Cotswolds
phydeaux_busy: Maybe it’s Woad Cubs..they DO have that blue uniform, and to save on cloth…

Which lead of course, to imagining the Woad Cubs, and the filky part of my brain kicked in:

What’s the use of badge for merit
which proclaims you raised a ferret
if you’ve got nowhere to wear it
once it’s been bestowed?

Oh to have a sash of cotton
to sew patches that you’ve gotten
Instead all we’ve got’s this rotten
uniform of woad!

National Coming Out Day

A fragment, in honour of National Coming Out Day

Nessie, Come Out
TTTO: “Nessie Come Up” by Dr. Jane

Nessie, come out, you’re gay, dear
We’ve known you are gay for sometime
Please don’t resist
No no, we insist
Don’t be bashful, cause we think it’s fine
The truth is, my dear
You’ve always been queer
The truth cannot be denied
Oh Nessie, we think you are, think you are, think you are
Nessie, we think you’re divine!

(I’ll get my coat…)

Musing on muses

The first bit of this popped into my head the other day when cadhla posted an open letter to her muse, Jane. Now, we’ve being hearing about Jane for years, but somehow this time it connected with that odd bit of MY brain, and…well….

This is obviously from cadhla‘s point of view…

Musing on Jane
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “Jane” by Barenaked Ladies
© 2005

She lives inside my head, sweet Jane the muse
She lives on fiction, cigarettes and booze
She dictates plots to me and I just weep
I wish she would shut up and let me sleep
Jane, doesn’t seem to understand I have to work
Jane, doesn’t care that she is acting like a jerk
Jane
Jane

I wrote a story and thought it was grand
I didn’t know she had four sequels planned
I must look like a crazy foreigner
Arguing with myself on street corners
Jane, has more ideas than I’ve hours in the day
Jane, pesters me all night and will not go away
Jane
Jane

I wrote a novel
Tor should have got it yesterday
Why it would be best now to take a short rest now
is what I cannot explain to Jane

Still living in my head, sweet Jane the muse
Still sending more ideas than I can use
I’m not sure how she got inside my brain
I write her words out longhand on the train
Jane, has yet another trilogy for me to write
Jane, doesn’t see why I think I should sleep tonight
Jane
Jane

Second Chances

Second Chances
Lyrics by Robert Wynne
Music by Steve Macdonald
© 2005

Tell me you believe in second chances
Tell me we can make a brand new start
Tell me you believe in true romances
Tell me that I haven’t lost your heart

Tell me that the past can be forgiven
Tell me that the lost can be redeemed
Tell me there is hope where there is living
And all is not as broken as it seemed

Still don’t understand how we fell so far apart
I just couldn’t see what I should do
But now my eyes are clear and my heart is sure
And every road leads me back to you

Tell me that the future isn’t out of sight
Tell me there’s a light to end the dark
Tell me there’s a chance to set our wrongs to right
Tell me that your heart still holds a spark

(Instrumental break)

Still don’t understand how we fell so far apart
I just couldn’t see what I should do
But now my eyes are clear and my heart is sure
And every road leads me back to you

Tell me you believe in second chances
Tell me we can make a brand new start
Tell me you believe in true romances
Tell me that I haven’t lost your heart

Musing On Jane

Musing On Jane
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Jane” by Barenaked Ladies
© 2005

She lives inside my head, sweet Jane the muse
She lives on fiction, cigarettes and booze
She dictates plots to me and I just weep
I wish she would shut up and let me sleep
Jane, doesn’t seem to understand I have to work
Jane, doesn’t care that she is acting like a jerk
Jane
Jane

I wrote a story and thought it was grand
I didn’t know she had four sequels planned
I must look like a crazy foreigner
Arguing with myself on street corners
Jane, has more ideas than I’ve hours in the day
Jane, pesters me all night and will not go away
Jane
Jane

I wrote a novel
DAW should have got it yesterday
Why it would be best now to take a short rest now
is what I cannot explain to Jane

Still living in my head, sweet Jane the muse
Still sending more ideas than I can use
I’m not sure how she got inside my brain
I write her words out longhand on the train
Jane, has yet another trilogy for me to write
Jane, doesn’t see why I think I should sleep tonight
Jane
Jane

Snuggles Rock

cadhla and I were meant for each other. I am convinced of this.

autographedcat: *snugglecuddle*
cadhla: Yay, snuggles!
autographedcat: lots more where that came from 🙂
cadhla: Snuggles rock.
autographedcat: hrm. Snuggles Rock. I’m now picturing a sex-ed series of Schoolhouse Rock videos 🙂
cadhla: I’m Only A Pill?
autographedcat: ROFL.

Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Cicada

This is a bit of silliness inspired on JediMUD today.

Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Cicada
by Rob Wynne

I.
If you like squishing cicadas
getting caught in the rain

II.
Oh cicadas, you’re breaking my heart
You’re all on my lawn and I hate you
Oh cicadas, please please go away
For seventeen years i won’t miss you

III.
I’m gonna kill the bugs next door
Ain’t gonna chirp anymore
They’re underground for seventeen years
Then they come up and drink all my beer
Gonna squash em with my boots
How i wish i had a gun that shoots
Gonna kill kill kill kill kill kill kill those bugs

IV.
Cicada blues
You make me cry
I don’t wanna lose this feeling
And if i choose for you to die
You would be in your grave

V.
You walk across the lawn and they will crawl up on your pants
Shake them off your shoes and you do a little dance
Worst of all you find their shells are stuck to all your plants
Hey, they’re cicadas!

VI.
I squashed cicadas
But i did not squish the ladybugs

VII.
Wasting away again here in Cicadaville
Searching for a safe path I can walk

VIII.
I walked out on my lawn
To face my fears
The last time they were here
Seventeen years
It’s cicadas
They climb on everything
Nowhere to sit
I wish they’d go away
I must admit
Damn cicadas

IX.
One day, bugs will rain out
From beneath the rainspout
And then you will hear ci-
cadas come and chirp the night away

X.
Cold rain on the front lawn has softened the grounds
For seventeen years they have slept in their mounds
But now they have surfaced; the night rings with sound
Cicada’s will rise with the moon

XI.
They are very noisy bugs
Cicadas chirp outside your bedroom
They go away for seventeen years then they come back
And they get in everything

Those bugs are pretty tasty
(That bug’s a Cicada!)
The kind of bugs you read about
(In science magazines!)
They haven’t left my lawn yet
(The bugs are cicadas)
I think I’m gonna squish them
(Everywhere I step)
They’re not right! They’re not right!
These bugs are not for me!

They are cicadas! Cicadas!
I hate Cicadas!

XII.
Little cicadas
Crawling everywhere
You’re pretty sure they’re even crawling in your hair
Where did they come from
Underneath the ground
Seventeen years past and not one could be found

XIII.
Guess who just got back today
Those little bugs that had been away
Everywhere, cicadas in your way
And if the bugs wanna chirp, you better let ’em


Bonus points if you can place all thirteen tunes 🙂

NEW SONG: Naismith, Not Vorkosigan

This song had been sitting nearly finished in my ideas folder for a while. i finally took it out, cleaned it up, and released into the wild at the housefilk Saturday.

LOTR Silliness

So, aiela posted the following quote in her journal:

“Peter Jackson says he used 25,000 extras in Lord of the Rings. Did you know that? He’s created 25,000 more jobs than George Bush has, we ought to give him more than an Oscar!”
— John Kerry

And someone pointed out that most of those jobs were only temp jobs. Don’t ask me WHERE this stuff comes from.

Just In New Zealand
by Rob Wynne
To the Tune of: Only In Kenya

Where can you get temp jobs?
Just in New Zealand!
In New Zealand we got temp jobs!

Say you wanna make movies?
Just in New Zealand!
Got temp jobs and movies: Just in New Zealand!

(Forget Hollywood!)

New Zealand Oh, New Zealand!
Where the dwarves are and the Bree men!

New Zealand! Zealand Zealand Zealand!
New Zealand! Come to New Zealand
(Can you believe it?)

NEW SONG: The Last March of Gondor

I had refrained from posting this song yet, as I didn’t have a title I liked for it. I’m not 100% sure this is the best title either, but it’s the best one I’ve come up with so far, and at some point, you have to set your children free upon the world.

This song was inspired by a typo. telynor was discussing tracks which will be on the forthcoming Three Weird Sisters album, and made an interesting keyslip, referring to a well known Echo’s Chidlren song they have covered as “Least of My King”. It floated into my brain and connected with my muse, and the beginnings of this came out.

kitanzi and I batted it back and forth in e-mail, and by the end of the day, we had a song. (Thus proving to us that we could actively write songs together! This one’s our first!) Feedback from others, especially telynor and cflute, was helpful in tweaking it and making it better. We debuted it at Boskone to an enthusiastic response (and thanks to ladyat for the bodhran accompaniment!)

To set the scene, imagine the mustering of the troops after the Battle of Penlinor Fields, as Aragorn prepares to lead the Armies of the West to Mordor’s Gate.

Page 9 of 17

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