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Film is a dramatised reality and it is the director's job to make it appear real... an audience should not be conscious of technique.

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Spiritual Walkers

They knock on your door
You laugh in their face
They tell you its time to pray
They give you a book
And tell you to read
And point to the judgment day
People say they live dangerously
Walking places they should not be
But they will walk their lives
With a never ending light
They will walk their lives
til they shine the light
Of truth into your life
They sit on a stump
You run from their sight
To not hear the holy word
They sing and they chant
They preach and they speak
In tongues you have never heard
But people say they live dangerously
Walking places they should not be
But they will walk their lives
With a never ending light
They will walk their lives
til they shine the light
Of truth into your life
Havent you ever encountered the spiritual walkers
They just walk the light through the day through the night
Havent you ever encountered the spiritual walkers
They just walk the light through the day through the night
Walk on ...
On corners of streets
And airports of tents
They reach out for you to come in
They have no defense
Except inner sense
And knowing the almighty friend
People say they live dangerously
Walking places they should not be
But they will walk their lives
With a never ending light
They will walk their lives
til they shine the light
Of truth into your life truth into your life
Havent you ever encountered the spiritual walkers
They just walk the light through the day through the night
Havent you ever encountered the spiritual walkers
They just walk the light through the day through the night
(repeat)
Come on and shine that light through the day through the night
Havent you ever encountered the spiritual walkers
They just walk the light through the day through the night
Even though when they knock on your door
You laugh in their face
You run from their sight
Not to hear the holy word
They have no defense
Except inner sense
Havent you

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I've Been Condemned To Hell

Twenty three outings and he's still alive,
What's the secret that makes him thrive?
How the hell does he survive?
Only he can tell.

Bombs and bullets and falls from the sky,
Still they cannot make him die,
Death to him does not apply,
In survival he does excel.

All his enemies throughout the world,
Have ended up with their knickers curled,
Their respective plots he has unfurled,
Doesn't this man do well?

Poisoned drinks and crashes galore,
Laser beams which cut to the core,
His will to live is to the fore,
What's next we can't foretell.

Sharks and subs can't do him in,
Against all odds we know he'll win,
He really does get under our skin,
He has us under his spell.

Space adventures and fearsome foes,
He causes mayhem wherever he goes,
Why he's still alive nobody knows,
But this myth I will dispel.

His female friends his life of leisure,
This man knows how to get his pleasure,
He's looked on as our national treasure,
It's now time to say farewell.

In every outing they've let him live,
Now that is something I won't forgive,
He really is the ultimate spiv,
His invincibility I will now expel.

In every epic at the start,
His captors who are not that smart,
Give him the chance to up and depart,
He then kills the whole cartel.

But now I know the secrets out,
The normal protocols I will flout,
His services you'll now live without,
That will leave a nasty smell.

Throughout the years we've all been conned,
Now the truth has finally dawned,
In the opening scene I killed James Bond,

‘' On His Fate You Must Now Dwell ‘'

Twenty Fourth adventure it can't be true,
I know I gave him what was due,
My mission to kill him I saw it through,
I watched as 007 fell.

Now I've been informed James Bond is back,
Now it's me who's on the rack,
Very soon I'll be under attack,
I'll find him hard to repel.

Oh my God am I in trouble,
I didn't kill Bond it was his double,
In Skyfall he reduced me to rubble,

'' I've Been Condemned To Hell ''

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On His Fate You Must Now Dwell

Twenty three outings and he's still alive,
What's the secret that makes him thrive?
How the hell does he survive?
Only he can tell.

Bombs and bullets and falls from the sky,
Still they cannot make him die,
Death to him does not apply,
In survival he does excel.

All his enemies throughout the world,
Have ended up with their knickers curled,
Their respective plots he has unfurled,
Doesn't this man do well?

Poisoned drinks and crashes galore,
Laser beams which cut to the core,
His will to live is to the fore,
What's next we can't foretell.

Sharks and subs can't do him in,
Against all odds we know he'll win,
He really does get under our skin,
He has us under his spell.

Space adventures and fearsome foes,
He causes mayhem wherever he goes,
Why he's still alive nobody knows,
But this myth I will dispel.

His female friends his life of leisure,
This man knows how to get his pleasure,
He's looked on as our national treasure,
It's now time to say farewell.

In every outing they've let him live,
Now that is something I won't forgive,
He really is the ultimate spiv,
His invincibility I will now expel.

In every epic at the start,
His captors who are not that smart,
Give him the chance to up and depart,
He then kills the whole cartel.

But now I know the secrets out,
The normal protocols I will flout,
His services you'll now live without,
That will leave a nasty smell.

Throughout the years we've all been conned,
Now the truth has finally dawned,
In the opening scene I killed James Bond,

‘' On His Fate You Must Now Dwell ‘'

HELP UPDATE

Twenty Fourth adventure it can't be true,
I know I gave him what was due,
My mission to kill him I saw it through,
I watched as 007 fell.

Now I've been informed James Bond is back,
Now it's me who's on the rack,
Very soon I'll be under attack,
I'll find him hard to repel.

Oh my God am I in trouble,
I didn't kill Bond it was his double,
In Skyfall he reduced me to rubble,

'' I've Been Condemned To Hell ''

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Run For Reality And Please Carry Some Dreams

this early morning go for a jog
sweat life out to be well again
leave those that sadden you
behind the road let the air
take them all and dissipate
into the space always always
behind you.Run! run! run!
to reality just for fun!
do not think that deep
where you fall into this chasm
of so much thoughts where
actions are finally lost and
changed to vapor of unrealized
wishes..run! run! keep this run
of reality just for fun!
in your heart, this heart
that beats faster without rest
keep your dreams
nourish them

onward! forward!
don't waste your time looking back.....

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Reality and Dream in Rhyme Combine

REALITY AND DREAM IN RHYME COMBINE

Reality and dream in rhyme combine,
Exile banality’s reflection drear
As poet must contrive to intertwine
Life’s daily drudge with overview sincere.
Image outside time in harmony
Translates soul’s authenticity, stays clear,
Engenders metamorphosis to see
Redrawn from chaos truth’s portrait appear
Exquisitely with sensitivity
And skill where will, wit, wisdom writ sans fear
Leave all taboos behind as mind’s fey key
Insightful may unlock creation clear.
Thus all the splendour of life’s symphony
Expressed in sonnet song can come to be.

11 February 2009
robi03_1857_robi03_0341 AST_IXX

Translation of Rêve est Réalité en Poésie robi3_0341_robi3_0000
for French orignal sonnet see below

REVE EST REALITE EN POESIE

Rêve est réalité redéfinie,
Etant reflet qui le banal bannit.
Au poète il incombe de changer
La lie quotidienne, recréer
Image hors temps. Ainsi cette harmonie -
Toute l’authenticité de son esprit -
En un élan peut métamorphoser
Recherche incohérente en vérité,
Et à travers son portrait fin, exquis,
Avec adresse et sensibilité
Le poète dépasse l’interdit
Imaginant pour tous sa féerie.
Toute la splendeur d’une symphonie
En ces lignes se crystallise ainsi.

? 26 April 1990 database noted as 10 October 1990
Acrostic Sonnet REALITE rob0i3_0341_robi03_0000

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With Logistics AND Statistics

It did not take me long,
To realize how phony you were.
I was taught logistics...
Many years ago when I was a kid,
In the military.

And with logistics AND statistics,
As a foundation from which to deduce reality?
The only thing I regret...
Is giving you time to believe,
You could take all the time you needed...
To make me appear to be your fool.

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Now you are both my friend and foe!

Now you are both my friend and foe!
Still leaving you is sweet sorrow!
Oops! You can change my tomorrow!

Still kissing you is a sweet dream
Though my love for you is extreme!
My thought goes wild like a blue-film!

Still your presence makes me love-sick
But our love-making’s chance is bleak!
I can’t read your mind; its all Greek!

You want to see tears on my cheek
So I am on love’s frozen peak
And my friend is a ganja’s stick!

Baby, make me believe in love.
Have you not hated me enough?
Please lock me up with love’s hand-cuff!

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Whose Truth Is Reality?

Whose truth is reality?
And why are the many eyes focused upon it,
Seeing reality quite differently?
With many refusing,
To believe in any of it at all.

It is odd how those say they do know God exist.
With bragging rights about their religious affiliations.
But ask one of them,
When was it they stepped out of their way...
Based solely on their faith?

Do you get a look in return that offends?
Or...
Do you get a sermon to hear,
With scriptures quoted...
To make their beliefs understood.
And for some reason...
Their carrying a Bible should make that clear?

And that question you had asked,
Goes unanswered.
As an excuse is made,
To leave from your presence...
As fast as they came.
And under their breath you are called a name.

People are not up to that task.
Disguising 'your' reality...
They prefer to hide,
Behind 'their' masks!

Whose truth is reality?
Really?
And why are the many eyes focused upon it,
Seeing reality quite differently?

With many refusing,
To believe in any of it at all.

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And Furthermore...

If those chosen who have obtained,
Untouchable status...
And there are many who are self ordained,
Began to scrutinize and fire from positions...
The ones hand picked and selected,
To represent their standards valued.
There would be few people left if any at all,
Impressive enough to still maintain,
A wholesome pretentiousness that is a must.

To keep intact their annointed declarations.

Without...
A casting about a tainting of false images.

Images expected to reflect the 'ideal'.
But not the reality that a self righteous...
Holier-than-thou presentation sustains,
That many have grown to imitate with the best of hypocrisy.

AND..
Are the causes for the uprising of threats,
Used to confuse the minds of those already proving...
To rebel against this process invented and documented,
Around the world.

Those few who are dissenting from such correctness,
Just do not get it!
And should be removed from their seats of assumed power,
To be publicly denounced as mentally and physically...
Unable to perform their tasks with the utmost intended integrity.

And furthermore...
To show that they are not capable to do this,
Is an abomination to all who are appalled by such behavior.
As evident by those who can no longer contain their disgust.

'I have to think about the use of 'And furthermore...'
It sounds too,
Proclamationish.
However...
I do like the formality it generates..
But I do think you should read this 'after' and not 'before',
Dinner is served.
How do the others feel about it? '

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Dread And Detachment - Triumph

Fear of the indifference,
Hunger for aesthetic sense,
Wisdom in reiterance,
Failure in passions.

Imaginative dysfunction,
Delusional comprehension,
Dreadful perception,
Human inception.

The unseen depth of understanding,
The greater wish of empowering,
Truth in emotional withstanding,
Brutal reality and forbidden loathing.

The soft melody of paradox's prison,
Tyrannical love gives birth to dissension,
Destructive lust gives heed to indecision,
The struggle of identity again arisen.

The mournful cry of the unfathomable heart,
Trickling skywards to heaven's apart,
Lonesome journey to the truth in art,
Surrounded by desert, the poet must start.

Bound to the path, a promise to keep,
Immortal and divine, plurality too deep,
Lull the mind, slow the mists as we weep,
I am a boy, I only wish sleep.

As I slip further gone, pulled by this power,
I resent the world, the torture of every hour,
My eyes see nothing, yet Truth is in flower,
The mind is infinite, reason trembles and cowers.

Kindle my shame, ignite my ignorance,
Feed the flame, enslave my arrogance,
Remember I came, forget not my vengeance.

This muse which counsels is my friend and my fire,
This passions burns bright, my vision aims higher,
Behold my glory and light, my will cannot tire,
Dread this night, my fight all will inspire.

The essence of existence, the absolute liberty,
Preceded by desire, bask in universal serenity,
The subjective is right, find love in Beauty,
This is human might, in us is eternity.

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Future, Future Before and Future From The Future: Journey:

O'er the hills,
hills on land,
o'er the land,
land on water,
o'er the water.
water on land,
land on water again.
And again, again...

And so it goes,
to infinity, i see.
: deep thinkers discern:
travelling in the soul,
i went,
muscle stonger than ever,
flying high into SEVENTH HEAVEN,
soaring like the eagle,
with mystery more than,
MYSTERY OF THE PHANTOM FLAME,
but in the body im weak.
Here i lie,
thinking of,
great things.

Was i a weak soul?

Gently in my couch,
i rest,
viewing the infinity,
FUTURE! !

I looked o'er the future,
over the infinity,
i passed hills,
savannas
oceans,
then future.

But in soul not in body.

Was i the weak soul?

I saw what future awaits,
the poor soul.
Who has been living in future,
before time.
Now its the time,
he's doomed.
All things upside down.
I saw eyes red,
than the RED PARIS WINE.
I saw his eyes soured with tears,
tears to infinity.

Thoughts of great things,
keep flying all over his
working brain.
keeps being optimistic,
to lift of the heavy weight,
smiles so people,
not discern the truth,

OH HE'S BEEN GOING THROUGH,
HELL SINCE! !
People might say''he thinks''

But now is the future,
He has got a DEAD LIFE,
no light in him a again,
all is darkness.

Are you the thief,
that stole his dreams?

Oh! his precious dreams are gone,
the PRINCE OF SEVEN SEAS,
went for it,
but failed the mission.

Who can help the poor soul?
His dreams has being stolen,
i needa help him restore it,
maybe before the future

Was i a poor soul?
ive also got dreams,
to make true.
Here i am thinking of,
helping another soul.

I tapped him gently,
but he'll never say a thing.
He is in melancholy.
I sat down gently beside him,
saying words of comfort,
to the man who needs help?

Here i am,
i also need help,
but no one to pacify me.

I go on saying,
all spirit directs me.
Spirit being in my soul.

Gentle breeze serves the message,
right.
As it we sat down,
i heard the breeze,
whistling all i said,
into his glued ear.

He suddenly changed,
mood.
Looked at me with suprise,
told me he's going back.
To where?

OH MY!
Whats he saying?

TO WHERE HE BELONGS?

That wrecked life,
this future suits our life.
We can think of a car,
and we see it,
house and we see,
but,
not in reality,
the FUTURE FROM THE FUTURE.

He told me,
he wants to make things right,
he's going on a travel,
from the LAND OF DREAMS,
we are,
the FUTURE.
to the FUTURE FROM THE FUTURE.

That land of no hope?
Message,
: sobs:
i want to stay here,
i like it here,
dont want to get weak again,
back there.

Message
: rethinks:
Good gracious!
Ive just convinced a man,
who lives in future,
he'll be packing his loads,
to where he belongs.

HE'LL HAVE FAITH,
WHERE NO HOPE,
THERE'S STILL HOPE.
then he comes back at appointed,
time.
IN FULLEST GLORY.

I dont want to live,
my cars here and go back.
My estate,
cars.
I cant pack them along,
i'll stay here.

Future before future,

: Knocks:
Its me Belinda,
your new neighbour.

: Jerks:
: yawns:
: Quick thought:
and ive got beautiful houses,
built in the land FUTURE,
fine cars in the garage,
now here is a new neighbour,
i have here.
Im going to share,
this apartment again.

Someday i'll migrate fully,
TO THE FUTURE.
After i make thinks right,
by hardwork and love.
I'll laugh last

: knocks:
anybody home?

: Answer:
im sorry, im coming just stressed up from the journey i had.im on my way.

: thinks:
WHICH JOURNEY WAS I,
EVEN SAYING?

JOURNEY TO THE FUTURE.

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Book IV - Part 02 - Existence And Character Of The Images

But since I've taught already of what sort
The seeds of all things are, and how distinct
In divers forms they flit of own accord,
Stirred with a motion everlasting on,
And in what mode things be from them create,
And since I've taught what the mind's nature is,
And of what things 'tis with the body knit
And thrives in strength, and by what mode uptorn
That mind returns to its primordials,
Now will I undertake an argument-
One for these matters of supreme concern-
That there exist those somewhats which we call
The images of things: these, like to films
Scaled off the utmost outside of the things,
Flit hither and thither through the atmosphere,
And the same terrify our intellects,
Coming upon us waking or in sleep,
When oft we peer at wonderful strange shapes
And images of people lorn of light,
Which oft have horribly roused us when we lay
In slumber- that haply nevermore may we
Suppose that souls get loose from Acheron,
Or shades go floating in among the living,
Or aught of us is left behind at death,
When body and mind, destroyed together, each
Back to its own primordials goes away.

And thus I say that effigies of things,
And tenuous shapes from off the things are sent,
From off the utmost outside of the things,
Which are like films or may be named a rind,
Because the image bears like look and form
With whatso body has shed it fluttering forth-
A fact thou mayst, however dull thy wits,
Well learn from this: mainly, because we see
Even 'mongst visible objects many be
That send forth bodies, loosely some diffused-
Like smoke from oaken logs and heat from fires-
And some more interwoven and condensed-
As when the locusts in the summertime
Put off their glossy tunics, or when calves
At birth drop membranes from their body's surface,
Or when, again, the slippery serpent doffs
Its vestments 'mongst the thorns- for oft we see
The breres augmented with their flying spoils:
Since such takes place, 'tis likewise certain too
That tenuous images from things are sent,
From off the utmost outside of the things.
For why those kinds should drop and part from things,
Rather than others tenuous and thin,
No power has man to open mouth to tell;
Especially, since on outsides of things
Are bodies many and minute which could,
In the same order which they had before,
And with the figure of their form preserved,
Be thrown abroad, and much more swiftly too,
Being less subject to impediments,
As few in number and placed along the front.
For truly many things we see discharge
Their stuff at large, not only from their cores
Deep-set within, as we have said above,
But from their surfaces at times no less-
Their very colours too. And commonly
The awnings, saffron, red and dusky blue,
Stretched overhead in mighty theatres,
Upon their poles and cross-beams fluttering,
Have such an action quite; for there they dye
And make to undulate with their every hue
The circled throng below, and all the stage,
And rich attire in the patrician seats.
And ever the more the theatre's dark walls
Around them shut, the more all things within
Laugh in the bright suffusion of strange glints,
The daylight being withdrawn. And therefore, since
The canvas hangings thus discharge their dye
From off their surface, things in general must
Likewise their tenuous effigies discharge,
Because in either case they are off-thrown
From off the surface. So there are indeed
Such certain prints and vestiges of forms
Which flit around, of subtlest texture made,
Invisible, when separate, each and one.
Again, all odour, smoke, and heat, and such
Streams out of things diffusedly, because,
Whilst coming from the deeps of body forth
And rising out, along their bending path
They're torn asunder, nor have gateways straight
Wherethrough to mass themselves and struggle abroad.
But contrariwise, when such a tenuous film
Of outside colour is thrown off, there's naught
Can rend it, since 'tis placed along the front
Ready to hand. Lastly those images
Which to our eyes in mirrors do appear,
In water, or in any shining surface,
Must be, since furnished with like look of things,
Fashioned from images of things sent out.
There are, then, tenuous effigies of forms,
Like unto them, which no one can divine
When taken singly, which do yet give back,
When by continued and recurrent discharge
Expelled, a picture from the mirrors' plane.
Nor otherwise, it seems, can they be kept
So well conserved that thus be given back
Figures so like each object.
Now then, learn
How tenuous is the nature of an image.
And in the first place, since primordials be
So far beneath our senses, and much less
E'en than those objects which begin to grow
Too small for eyes to note, learn now in few
How nice are the beginnings of all things-
That this, too, I may yet confirm in proof:
First, living creatures are sometimes so small
That even their third part can nowise be seen;
Judge, then, the size of any inward organ-
What of their sphered heart, their eyes, their limbs,
The skeleton?- How tiny thus they are!
And what besides of those first particles
Whence soul and mind must fashioned be?- Seest not
How nice and how minute? Besides, whatever
Exhales from out its body a sharp smell-
The nauseous absinth, or the panacea,
Strong southernwood, or bitter centaury-
If never so lightly with thy [fingers] twain
Perchance [thou touch] a one of them

Then why not rather know that images
Flit hither and thither, many, in many modes,
Bodiless and invisible?
But lest
Haply thou holdest that those images
Which come from objects are the sole that flit,
Others indeed there be of own accord
Begot, self-formed in earth's aery skies,
Which, moulded to innumerable shapes,
Are borne aloft, and, fluid as they are,
Cease not to change appearance and to turn
Into new outlines of all sorts of forms;
As we behold the clouds grow thick on high
And smirch the serene vision of the world,
Stroking the air with motions. For oft are seen
The giants' faces flying far along
And trailing a spread of shadow; and at times
The mighty mountains and mountain-sundered rocks
Going before and crossing on the sun,
Whereafter a monstrous beast dragging amain
And leading in the other thunderheads.
Now [hear] how easy and how swift they be
Engendered, and perpetually flow off
From things and gliding pass away....

For ever every outside streams away
From off all objects, since discharge they may;
And when this outside reaches other things,
As chiefly glass, it passes through; but where
It reaches the rough rocks or stuff of wood,
There 'tis so rent that it cannot give back
An image. But when gleaming objects dense,
As chiefly mirrors, have been set before it,
Nothing of this sort happens. For it can't
Go, as through glass, nor yet be rent- its safety,
By virtue of that smoothness, being sure.
'Tis therefore that from them the images
Stream back to us; and howso suddenly
Thou place, at any instant, anything
Before a mirror, there an image shows;
Proving that ever from a body's surface
Flow off thin textures and thin shapes of things.
Thus many images in little time
Are gendered; so their origin is named
Rightly a speedy. And even as the sun
Must send below, in little time, to earth
So many beams to keep all things so full
Of light incessant; thus, on grounds the same,
From things there must be borne, in many modes,
To every quarter round, upon the moment,
The many images of things; because
Unto whatever face of things we turn
The mirror, things of form and hue the same
Respond. Besides, though but a moment since
Serenest was the weather of the sky,
So fiercely sudden is it foully thick
That ye might think that round about all murk
Had parted forth from Acheron and filled
The mighty vaults of sky- so grievously,
As gathers thus the storm-clouds' gruesome night,
Do faces of black horror hang on high-
Of which how small a part an image is
There's none to tell or reckon out in words.

Now come; with what swift motion they are borne,
These images, and what the speed assigned
To them across the breezes swimming on-
So that o'er lengths of space a little hour
Alone is wasted, toward whatever region
Each with its divers impulse tends- I'll tell
In verses sweeter than they many are;
Even as the swan's slight note is better far
Than that dispersed clamour of the cranes
Among the southwind's aery clouds. And first,
One oft may see that objects which are light
And made of tiny bodies are the swift;
In which class is the sun's light and his heat,
Since made from small primordial elements
Which, as it were, are forward knocked along
And through the interspaces of the air
To pass delay not, urged by blows behind;
For light by light is instantly supplied
And gleam by following gleam is spurred and driven.
Thus likewise must the images have power
Through unimaginable space to speed
Within a point of time,- first, since a cause
Exceeding small there is, which at their back
Far forward drives them and propels, where, too,
They're carried with such winged lightness on;
And, secondly, since furnished, when sent off,
With texture of such rareness that they can
Through objects whatsoever penetrate
And ooze, as 'twere, through intervening air.
Besides, if those fine particles of things
Which from so deep within are sent abroad,
As light and heat of sun, are seen to glide
And spread themselves through all the space of heaven
Upon one instant of the day, and fly
O'er sea and lands and flood the heaven, what then
Of those which on the outside stand prepared,
When they're hurled off with not a thing to check
Their going out? Dost thou not see indeed
How swifter and how farther must they go
And speed through manifold the length of space
In time the same that from the sun the rays
O'erspread the heaven? This also seems to be
Example chief and true with what swift speed
The images of things are borne about:
That soon as ever under open skies
Is spread the shining water, all at once,
If stars be out in heaven, upgleam from earth,
Serene and radiant in the water there,
The constellations of the universe-
Now seest thou not in what a point of time
An image from the shores of ether falls
Unto the shores of earth? Wherefore, again,
And yet again, 'tis needful to confess
With wondrous...

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Film is shot in fragments, and the same moments can be shot again and again until the director is satisfied.

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Christina Georgina Rossetti

Wrens And Robins In The Hedge

Wrens and robins in the hedge,
Wrens and robins here and there;
Building, perching, pecking, fluttering,
Everywhere! C

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Simple Observation #63 - The gifts and treasures of the Spirit......

The gifts and treasures of the Spirit are not readily foreseen
and so its very hard to know what anyone could have been.

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Olivia Newton-John

There's a balance in my life, there's reality and there's the part that looks really glamorous, but we're all just people in the end.

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Obviously in Art of Noise, I'm just part of the group, and when I do film scores, it's always in collaboration with the director and other people involved.

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In England And All Over The World

Raped!
Abused,
By gangs! !
In England.
Bad gangs,
Bangs, fangs, hangs, pangs, tangs, gangs!
To abuse and to rape girls;
In England and all over the world.

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This is indeed not only relevant to Documentary but is evident is most type of film making. The film often mirrors the experience, understanding and politics of the director.

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And getting stunt coordinator Dan Bradley and everybody from the whole 'Bourne Supremacy' crew, I think was real cool for our film because we do a bunch of really big jumps in this movie.

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