One Year Ago (Today) Original Song #50/90

I posted the original lyrics written in the wee hours of the morning as a tribute to my father’s passing, one year ago today in the John Wayne and Jacqueline post.

Then I took the story and wrote an EDM track, with stripped down lyrics, compete with groggy vocals, all recorded on GB on the iPad with earplugs in the living room so not to awaken the house. Here’s the outcome:

True Grit (#lyrics #poem #50/90)

Watching the remake of “True Grit”
For the first time after I met him
I thought of my father known as John Wayne
Named after his hero, he lived up to it

I sat next to him in English class
He told me he saw me with a man like that
Years later I see what he saw that in me
I knew who I was when I put down my mask

True Grit not taken lightly
Reputation, integrity at stake
Trustworthy and strong, reliability
Doing all things for God’s sake

I write my songs so differently
Listening to the beat of a different drum
Wandering back to where I come from
On the road of discovering my identity

True Grit not taken lightly
Reputation, integrity at stake
Trustworthy and strong, reliability
Doing all things for God’s sake

Remembering when true grit was part of life
Our heros loved Real Women
Not lingerie models once hidden
But respect and honor and prayers at night

True Grit not taken lightly
Reputation, integrity at stake
Trustworthy and strong, reliability
Doing all things for God’s sake

Dig in and Hold On (#lyrics #poem #50/90)

Fifty Ninety (50 songs in 90 days) is starting in a couple of days so it’s time to start writing poems in more of a song form for potential songs.

I’ve been quiet for too long
Sitting at the library reading those books
Writing in my diary dodging those looks
Gotta show ‘em who I am
Show ‘em what I’ve got
Not gotta lie down, I’m way too strong

Stomp, stomp, scream and shout
Let your inner diva out

Dig in and hold on
It’s time to make some noise
Stuck in my head for way too long
Pedal to the medal, come on, girls, let’s race some boys

I dug out old photographs of my old boyfriends
The ones he “made” me throw away
Instead I hid them along with my dignity
Jonesing for a second chance
now he’s down and out
Begging for some money I could lend no doubt

Stomp, stomp, scream and shout
Let your inner diva out

Dig in and hold on
It’s time to make some noise
Stuck in my head for way too long
Pedal to the medal, come on, girls, let’s race some boys

Not gonna feel guilty
He had more than a second chance
Running through women, drugs, and money
Laughing like the truth was so funny

Stomp, stomp, scream and shout
Let your inner diva out

Dig in and hold on
It’s time to make some noise
Stuck in my head for way too long
Pedal to the medal, come on, girls, let’s race some boys

Stomp, stomp, scream and shout
Let your inner diva out

Dig in and hold on
It’s time to make some noise
Stuck in my head for way too long
Pedal to the medal, come on, girls, let’s race some boys

The Father’s Blessing (#poem)

So easy to deny in a world full of pride
That need deep inside
Surrounded by those with an agenda I suppose
Embracing the eternal lie

Evil is clever putting on the glitz and black leather
Serving up the kool-aid
No father, no problem, any man will do
Trading sex in a false love’s chase

Lost souls are hurting, their wounds are piercing, accusing others of hating in their tirade
Kill the messenger they say and nothing has changed
Subvert the true plan by subverting true nature leaving behind ashes from the flames

When you look closer you can’t miss the answer
Seeking men for pleasure is not your desire
When the father’s blessing is missing, the heart is listening to the fire
Instead of the water that quenches the thirst, surrendering to the true cure

In the Studio Discovering a New Path and Identity

Woke up to another beautiful sunny day here in Las Vegas and that means waking up early this time of year. The dawn begins to break a little before 5 am and by 6, I can no longer stay in bed. I climb down the stairs from the third floor, stopping off on the second floor to grab a cup of coffee before continuing on to my first floor studio.

I log onto my Mac and continue with a Master Class on Electronic Dance Music, which I absolutely love and have loved since my Disco days. Playing around with sound triggers the knowledge I now have about my father and that side of a musical family – the family I did not know growing up. People did that more back then – when the couple split, that was the end of the father and “hello, step dad” who was now dad (sometimes you didn’t know he wasn’t your dad), and you used his last name.” Good-bye identity.

But that is old news. What strikes me today as I play around with sounds for an Electro Pop song is that knowing I have an “ear for music,” (told to me throughout my school years and later by my Las Vegas vocal coach, who happened to be starring in “Mamma Mia” on stage), was how lonely it was for me to have these gifts but not really understand them, unable to embrace my true identity because I was surrounded by strangers who were family. Strangers because my mother and half-siblings did not have these gifts, although to his credit, my step dad played the guitar. Ironically, he was the most supportive of my music. But my mother and siblings seemed to want to down play my musical gifts. Subtly, of course. 😮

So here I am, decades later, having met and discovered my family and my identity, pursuing my love for music, embracing all that I am. It’s a thrill, a triumph, but with a sense of loss and regret of the choices that others made for me. And why I’m such an advocate for children, whether adopted or conceived through sperm and egg donors or anything that has gotten in the way of children not knowing who they truly are. It’s an outrage!

Over ten years ago (closer to fifteen now), I wrote and published my story in Myths of the Fatherless, but I think it’s needed even more today.

In the Studio: Electro Pop song in progress

 

Girls and Black Cars (Tribute to the Grandmother I Never Met)

The most exciting part about discovering my father and his family was uncovering how much I’m like many of the family members. The music, the poems, fine dining, romantic, convertibles, swimming pools, black cars, transistor radios, manner of expressing myself, and the Christian Faith.

So I had to create this video about grandma and me and our love of black cars (she’s the one in the scarf), highlighting some of the gifts they’ve passed down to me. Please like and share the video on youtube.

Thank you!

L.A. Nights Book Trailer is Live

Story and Music by Kathy Holmes

I love making book trailers, using visuals and making my own music to give a peek into a story I also wrote. L.A. Nights is available as a standalone short story or as part of the Cougars in Cabo anthology. For more information, see SHORT STORIES under the BOOKS menu.

Road of Broken Dreams (#poem)

On the road of broken dreams I see clearly now
The longings hidden below the surface show themselves somehow
Blond hair, blue eyes and Bomber jacket
Were signs of a lost love I could not fathom

Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio honeymooning in Japan
A baby born to a teenaged mom would come to understand
How similar the path would be when torn from a father
Searching for love from men and places and happily ever after

A restless heart and wounds from the start
A life of unrest, then happiness in the Father’s arms
To fill that hole with a love so true and real
On the road of broken dreams, so thankful for everything that brought you here you kneel

The Day Breaks (#poem)

The day breaks as streaks of blue and pink paint the morning sky
Like an expectant mother’s baby shower with gifts wrapped with confetti-like ribbons
Sunday was magical worshipping with the Faithful as the old man’s smile lit up his eyes
Rumblings of home ground me, surprising me with longings once hidden

Future questions remain unanswered but the bread crumbs line the path
Today we honor those who came before us giving their lives fighting in wars
By connecting with one another face-to-face just like we did in the past
The wise study history and the lessons learned are not ignored

Not worshipping Star Wars, outlying gods and other creatures
Knowing science is a gift to use for our benefit
Losing all sense of the Holy bowing to the gifts and not the Giver as if they were the main feature
Like getting high on ego, pride, and other lies, our dignity takes the hit

This simple poem started out by the breaking of dawn
Morning thoughts rushing forth clearing the mind for the day ahead
Is the introvert’s way of giving of self as she rambles on
Hoping to make a bit of difference lying in her bed