Someday…..To Love and a Troubadour in a Town with No Name

Someday…..To Love and a Troubadour in a Town with No Name
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Someday, Somewhere….was it Someday, somewhere…together we’ll be baby, or was it Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high and where bluebirds fly…or was it Someday I wished upon a star and wake up where the clouds are high….in most probability it would be the wished upon the star concept where the troubles melt like lemon drops and I think to myself “Oh! what a wonderful world it is…” But is it really? Wonderful world? Are you sure? Am I sure? Am I even there or here, everywhere or somewhere? The rhetoric they say lies in love and in the words of the Troubadour singing his tunes along the streets with no pavements in a town with no name, all the while thinking the self to be trapezing down the Parisian walkways filled with the scent of romantic discrepancies that overwhelms the life that he so lives. 

Someday…within the hallowed realms of the days lived or unlived will probably arise the someday of our thoughts like a phoenix arising from the ashes of the doused flames of an entity called the life, a life which we deemed to be our own, of our own making, the one which we would be able to steer towards the path of our making and unmaking….but then along came a spider, a spider? Was it a spider, was it a caterpillar, a ladybird, was it even a being, or was it just a minuscule being growing within our being, multiplying by the minute to reach where we probably would not have wanted it to…to our minds and wreck havoc. But reach it did, it hit where it just didn’t have to and twisted our minds beyond repair that every outpouring of our minds reflected on the reality that we were trying to live along with that horrid minuscule being, so unpredictable so very dangerous totally capable of creating death not only of the being but more so of the primary concept of the being. The truobadour sings on…the town reverberates with his tunes of courtly love and chivalry but it still has no name, will it ever have a name? What’s in a name anyways even said the Bard as long as the songs stay forever, but will they stay now, will they stay forever? 

Someday…when, where? Somewhere perhaps over the rainbow, but rainbows aren’t they just a reflection, refraction and diffusion of the light rays to form the illusionary spectrum of lights, so says the archeac laws of physics which probably did not include the fairy lights comparision of dancing daisies and the wonderland of wishes that was promised over these mundane rays of lights illusioned as a fantasy of colours. Momentarily but surely and fulfilling the undying pleasure of our eyes and the fixated mind of the magic of rainbows, the search goes on….to the somewhere land over the rainbow which probably was never there but we thought it to be there and will probably wish it to there till someday….till someday…. 

rainbow light
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Someday…seems far away, the wishes upon the stars seems faded, jaded, wiped away weaned unto the uncertainties of the hour…sad…but true…yet the stars come back each evening to be wished upon, is that not enough reason to carry on? And then again the Troubadour sings…

“Evening star

Shine a little Heaven

On a stranger with no dream

Where you are…”

Yet the town still has no name….

Is this a rant? Is it? Is It? And even if it is to what’s worth and whose worth? Does a rant even need a worth or is a rant just a rant left hanging there heavy around our heads, just so that the rant thinks it worthwhile to be there not hitting where it’s supposed to but just hanging around, maybe chilled beer would be offered for the rant to be dispensed of its overtly overbearing presence in our lives. But the chill bears off in a while and the rant rants back to where it wants to be…where? Over our heads of course! Still life goes on, it has to, we have to live with the haves and the have nots and the rant of course…

Till Someday……

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