Song #62 Once Around the Sun

 

ONCE AROUND THE SUN

 

Today I laid a demon to rest

And I fell in love with that lady again

It must be at least ten times this short year

That I’ve shed a fear

 

On our journey around the sun

With the wax on our wings still intact

We’ve been flying so high we’re getting further away

From the valley below

 

And as we lay in our bed at night

Listening to the Irish muse in flight

He takes us to places we’ve never seen

But we’re getting there

 

CHORUS

We’ve been through all the seasons

We’ve been through the heat and the cold

We’ve seen the age clock tick over

We’ve been once around

        once around

        once around the sun

 

And very night I just want to fall

Into her arms without a word

Travel again to that place of peace

Where no demons lay

 

But we keep them alive with our hours of talk

Touching on fears with a torrent of words

Keeping the passion alive and apart

Until we finally give in

 

And play in our bed at night

Listening to the Irish muse in flight

He takes us to places we’ve never seen

But we’re getting there

 

CHORUS

We’ve been through all the seasons

We’ve been through the heat and the cold

We’ve seen the age clock tick over

We’ve been once around

        once around

        once around the sun

 

© Michael Coghlan 1991

Commentary: think it's self-evident really :) The Irish muse referred to is Van Morrison.

 

 

 

 

The Ajoona Guest House - Review

 

Bakehouse Theatre, Wed  1 Dec

Courtesy of some well-deserved grants and funded residencies Stephen House set himself the exciting and daunting task of writing a performance monologue for each of three different cities. He has completed and performed the works on life in Dublin and Paris, and now unveils the final part of the trilogy – the Ajoona Guest House. Set in a dingier part of Delhi, the tale has House sharing memories of a long association with the guesthouse – “a dump with oodles of charm” – and India.

The Ajoona Guest House is something of a refuge for those Westerners who were smitten and subsequently trapped in a strange world of mysticism, drugs, and ultimately desperation. House introduces us to some of the desperados who will never check out, and shares the unlikely joy he finds in the company of a neighbourhood child beggar.

Often bleak, even harrowing, the tale is a sad one but it’s the kind of sadness that accompanies an understanding of what life is truly like. Life may be full of broken souls but even they have created moments of great joy and beauty. The trick is to realise that the wheel turns, that joy and pleasure are just as ephemeral as pain and suffering, that nothing is forever, and you can only hope that if you ever reach this point of understanding you are still sufficiently whole to appreciate the past and present with gratitude, and have enough strength left to pull yourself away from the darkness.

It has been said before but Stephen House is a wonderful story teller. The Ajoona Guest House is perfectly paced. His economy with words, obviously well-honed by the poet side of his creative self, is very easy to listen to, and gradually draws you into an intriguing tale that soon has you experiencing something else below the narrative; that sensation of being there, in the story, and wondering what you would do? How would you feel?

Beautifully presented on an almost bare stage with few props, The Ajoona Guesthouse is both simple and profound, entertaining and instructive. Bravo Stephen House.

(This review also published on The Clothesline.)