Inspired by Midnight Oil’s “Beds are burning”. Reimagined as a punk anthem using Leonard Cohen word-style. (Verse 1) The sands of time, they're slipping fast, Injustice reigns, shadows cast. Our mother weeps, her wounds bleed deep, Yet silence reigns, as we sleep. (Chorus) Lands are burning, the flames ignite, In the dark, we'll rise and … Continue reading The Burning – Lyrics from Outcasts, Rebels, Hobos and Bards
This May be The End – Lyrics from Outcasts, Rebels, Hobos and Bards
Inspired by The End by The Doors. Re-imagined in what I think Tom Waits might have done, had he wrote this song. We've come to the final act, The fat lady has sung The last curtain was called, The end of the line. The road's run out, and We're stuck here at the edge of … Continue reading This May be The End – Lyrics from Outcasts, Rebels, Hobos and Bards
Outcasts, Rebels, Hobos and Bards: 57 Songs from the roads taken in my imagination
For decades, I’ve loved cover versions of songs, especially those that deviate from the originals in style and interpretation: jazz versions of hard rock songs, blues versions of alternative or pop songs, and literary works interpreted as lyrics. Along with the sheer laughter brought on by misheard lyrics, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed how we each perceive … Continue reading Outcasts, Rebels, Hobos and Bards: 57 Songs from the roads taken in my imagination
Mosaic – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
In Montreal, the streets are paved with poetry. The air is thick with the sweet scent of maple syrup and the sound of languages intermingling like a symphony. To see this city's cultural mosaic, one must walk the streets with eyes wide open. The old architecture, steeped in history, tells the stories of a city … Continue reading Mosaic – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
Prohibition – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
in the roaring twenties of old Montreal, amidst the glitz and glamour of the city, prohibition was but a mere suggestion, a whispered rumour, a hushed secret. The streets were alive with the sound of jazz, the rhythms of the underground clubs, where bootleggers peddled their forbidden wares, and the bold and daring flouted the … Continue reading Prohibition – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
The Golden Age of Theatre – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
In the bustling city of Montreal, where the St. Lawrence River flows with a swift current, the theatre scene was ablaze with a golden age. The year was 1937, and the streets were alive with the sounds of jazz and the vibrant energy of actors, playwrights, and directors. In those days, there were no fewer … Continue reading The Golden Age of Theatre – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
1919, when the lights were dark red – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
In 1919, Montreal's Red Light district was a veritable den of iniquity, a place where vice and temptation thrived in the shadows of the city. The streets were alive with the sounds of jazz music and the scents of cheap perfume, sweat, and lust. In the dimly-lit alleyways, men prowled like hungry wolves, seeking the … Continue reading 1919, when the lights were dark red – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
Imagining the Unseen in Dorchester Square – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
Beneath the bustling streets and towering buildings of Montreal, there might lie a relic of a time long past. Is it the old Sainte-Antoine Cholera Cemetery, tucked away beneath the Dorchester Square? Here, in the quiet darkness, the ghosts of a bygone era still linger, their silent whispers echoing through the shadows. The air is … Continue reading Imagining the Unseen in Dorchester Square – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
The Ghosts of Montreal – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
in montreal, there are places haunted, ghosts and spirits, all undaunted, by time and space and human eyes, they linger still, beneath the skies. the old montreal courthouse, it seems, is where the ghost of a hanged man dreams, while in the queen Elizabeth hotel, a lady in red, her tale to tell. the old … Continue reading The Ghosts of Montreal – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
A New Montrealer’s First Winter – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
in comes she from a land of sun with toes that curl and skin that's brown the snow begins its frozen dance and she stands still in a bewildered trance her breath forms clouds that linger and fade she feels the cold deep in her bones, afraid she watches as snowflakes twirl and spin a … Continue reading A New Montrealer’s First Winter – Memories Through the Eyes of my City
The New Renaissance Mindset 