HAPPY 80th BIRTHDAY Jimmy Page! 🐉🌞🎸
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To the lad of all lads🫡, dragon prince, guitar slinger, dark lord of rock…yadayada… you have many a nickname! Last year I wrote a novel, so this year all I will say is this:
Thank you for being my muse???? In a way? and inspiring my artistic craft to the zenith always. Your creativity and tenacity is super inspiring, and your music quite literally shaped me into who I am today. 80 years is a long time, and there is so much you have created that is quite remarkable. Its so wonderful to see what has come of it! Keep being that funky lad with a penchant for the magickal. Heres my ode to you, pal!
- Mazie🌞☁️🍂
(Also the dragon is literally Jimmy as a dragon so enjoy?? You know im always on that magickal shit)
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Ode to my Old Friend
Note: *For my Creative Writing class, I had to write a poem to someone from a different time. Naturally, I chose Jimmy. We finally reached the final draft of the poem, and while I don’t write poetry a lot, I felt this came out better than I expected. It was a weird assignment, and my professor pushed me to really dig deep with this one. Poetry is tough, and this is a little weird, but it was kinda fun. I hope you all enjoy!*
Can you hear my voice, old friend?
You don't know who I am, or even when I am trying to speak softly to you,
whispering your name in moments of silence.
But I am here amongst you,
in the music I play to remember you by.
Your voice falls through an old record player in my room,
keeping me grounded when the world feels too big.
Your voice never leaves me, old friend.
You are also inside the voices of my guitar,
that I play to mimic the songs you
wrote all those years ago.
I can hear your voice in my fingers, smelling of
Guitar strings stinging with song, old friend.
Images of you are on my walls.
In my mind.
In my eyes.
But most importantly my ears.
I see you in my dreams, daring and delicate, old friend.
Your face is young on my walls,
With wild midnight hair and careful emerald eyes.
You are a night sky so distant and close, I can feel your influence
and touch the air around you,
But Im blind in the dark, and your not that young midnight anymore.
You’ve grown up, old friend.
You've seen me my whole life and the same to you. Its strange.
Small toddler, I sat and watched you play your guitar so long ago.
Your voice emanated into my small bones and rang through my skull.
Transfixed by you, I was.
I'm older now, but nothing has changed, old friend.
I have named your voice.
Your voice is a guitar tone
Sizzling through a fuzz pedal
fifty years old.
You are immortalized. Electric, old friend.
I hear your voice loudly now.
Recorded fifty some odd years ago now.
Your voice is the same, and ever present in my mind as if
it were yesterday.
I wasn't there but I still hear it.
You don't know me,
I know you so well.
I know its not fair,
You changed my life.
We are from different times,
But lets make this right.
It's nice to meet you, old friend.
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