It is difficult now to see and follow the Red Road,
To hear the flute song, to feel the drum.
The ancients cry for those we have lost but answer those
who seek visions of where we come from
If they just close their eyes.
The warriors beat their breasts in vain – no way to prove their worth.
The mothers cry for children, never conceived, now lost.
The grandfathers bow in silence – they no longer have a voice.
The grandmothers wail in sorrow – with teardrops count the cost.
In dispair they close their eyes.
How do we surrender without losing all control?
Is there not a place we can go and still be free?
The clan chiefs smoke the sacred pipes and try
to reconcile what has been with what must be
In prayer they close their eyes
Hold in your heart what you cannot hold in your hands
Hear the flute song in the wind, feel the drumming of the earth
The way of the Red Road comes from within us all
The time has come for the People’s rebirth
And time to open their eyes.
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this is definately an interesting piece; not since the Doors and Jefferson Airplane have I seen such lyrics (I’m wondering now what type of music you had in mind to set to them).
I do really like the story you tell, of a time and a people who, despite all they have endured and lost, they believe there is always a brighter dawn ahead of them, and that, they have something worth teaching the world.
some of the lines were absolutely beautiful:
“How do we surrender without losing all control?”
“Hold in your heart what you cannot hold in your hands”
wonderful work; keep writing. I look forward to reading more. _
Jackie
PS: in line 10, “dispair” should be spelled “despair.”
I like this piece, and while I think it could use some work, you have a great foundation to start with. The imagery is nice and I think you have a good theme, but the piece is missing a musical quality that the words themselves and images you present need to convey. The cause? I think the timbre and pacing of the piece slowed me down as a reader. Some lines were too long and some were too dense.
See the first stanza, for example. The first two lines had a rhythm to them. But the third (“The ancients cry…”) threw me off that rhythm because of both it’s length and the fact that the thought flows into the next line. I would look for that rhythm and find ways to maintain that. You can always make the piece longer.
Another thought: I might be dense, but the “Red Road” doesn’t make sense to me. Are you invoking something that I should be picking up, or is it just a name? I feel like I should know and I don’t, but nothing in the piece helps me figure it out.
Good start, and I hope these suggestions were helpful. Best of luck!
I think it might be despair, 5th line, 2nd stanza.
Other than this, very tribal, sounds almost like a tribal chant, which instantly made me think of indians (Which I think you were going for with the line about clan chiefs). It had a very…I’m not sure, country feel too it. Images of rolling green hills and proud tribal members standing tall on a rocky outcrop.
Of women in tents crying over their lost children, old tribal leaders saddened. The end was very….the only word I have for it is valiant. Like a call to arms from the tribal chiefs, telling their people to rise back up.
Beautiful piece, very satisfying. You asked specifically for imagery so I’ve left out my notes on flow and rhythm.
Okay, I’ll give it a shot, but it’s kinda difficult because I wonder about the music that brings it to life. The lyrics are certainly accessible and the images conveyed are good. It’s somewhat evocative of the song “Cherokee People” by the Raiders in the early seventies. As an instrument of awareness or creating change, music is a bit iffy. I think Unclear Vision will work as a musical essay, a statement of identity, and a claim to moral victory—all of which is good. I think it will appeal to those of those who have an innate sense of justice and compassion and who tend to root for the underdog. But also, in works such as this, less is often more. I think you would improve your song if you eliminated (or re-wrote as statements) the two rhetorical questions in the third verse. They are a bit heavy-handed and detract from the solid imagery I mentioned earlier. Anyway, good luck with it.
This talked to me of any dispossessed native people or indeed any society that has had it’s way of life taken away from them either by force or circumstance.
It conveys sadness, wistful longing, and forlorn hope.
Well, it did to me, at least.
A strange yet enjoyable read.
Cheers
Tony
this remids me of the indians. when we fought with them to push them on to reservations. people died and cried. it makes me feel sorry, sad, and mad all at once. sorry for everyone that died, that lost family, and for doing this to them. Sad because of those that are lost and dead. Mad because it is not right for us to push them like that.
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