A Green Desert Father Vol.4 - Zarathustra’s Burning Love
In March 2013, Richard Mc Sweeney, a self-originating lyrical philosopher of Éire brought out a 794-paged hardback titled A Green Desert Father having as its subtitle Philosophical converse of an Árd Rí (High King) of Ireland. This contemporary collectable is a chronologically compiled anthology dating from January 2011 to February 2013 of original narratives, poems, fictional dialogues, and scenic photographs. It boldly addresses several universal themes such as love, freedom, morality, human trafficking, children and spousal abuse, religion, politics, fanaticism, prophecy, cosmology, art, fashion, music, and the esoteric.
There are conversations in it with for instance Anne Boleyn, Ludwig van Beethoven, Matthias Stormberger, Michel de Nostredame, Edgar Cayce, James Joyce, Joseph Goebbels, The Congregatio pro Doctrina Fidei, Dalai Lama, The Holy Qur’an, Angela Merkel, Richard Dawkins, Anne Sinclair, Georg Gänswein, and Patrick Stewart just to name a few.
Aside from being a cosmopolitan work it is a one of a kind personal social commentary on early 21st century Ireland as it contains over seventy pages devoted exclusively to the author’s historic and courageous bid to become the 9th President of Ireland.
The entire work is being made available exclusively here on Shopify in 13 short volumes. The scenic photographs of the print work are not included.
This 4th volume contains make-believe conversations with the following people, and an entity. Each one was inspired and composed simultaneously in one sitting.
A certain Baldacchino
Vincent van Gogh
Mrs. Battered of Turnkey
Empress Catherine the Great of Russia
Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal bin Abdul Aziz al-Saud
Edition: Word document
Font: Garamond 11
Approximate word count: 8,409
“What is it like in the bright sunlight, Richard?
It is a refreshing paradise, Wolfgang.
Do you think I will ever be valued for my true worth?
It seems, Wolfgang, the Schneeberg
can’t perceive his own magnificence.
What is to become of my music sheets?
What is to become of my letters; my leaf edged poems?
Why concern yourself with such matters, Wolfgang?
Compose; compose n’ compose.
Delight day it be night in composing
the music n’ phrases of your heart.
I will tell you, Richard, I am worried;
I am worried should anything happen to me
that my music sheets could be laid to sleep
in a chimney bed or flung on to a garbage heap.
That won’t happen, Wolfgang.
You don’t know that for sure, Richard.
Many in my sphere have in truth
no finesse in the art of artistic expression,
n’ would sooner see my sheets
tossed with old cabbage heads into hen runs.
There are times, when I cry myself to sleep;
cry myself throughout my dreams,
only to wake with my eyes still spilling tears
over such crucial to me concerns.
If the artist’s work, Richard is discarded,
then all he or she has ever strived for
is lost to time; lost to the generations ever coming.
Soundest, Wolfgang is the approval found
in silence; next in the written word,
n’ then in the spoken I have heard.
You have made me feel light in heart;
content in mind, Richard.
Hold this moment, for a chime sweet
is arriving at my fingers.
A moment, n’ I will put it here before you
on golden music sheet . . .” Wolfgang Mozart
zarathustra in books, greta garbo, st. peter’s basilica, vincent van gogh, battered women, empress catherine the great, arabian deserts