Words words words
My head screams in silence
Sounds of music soothe me
But the night demands the quiet
My mind reels from nighttime reading
Searching for answers in visual cues
The photos lure me as they see me
The screen blinks in shadowy hues
Counting down to the first light of dawn
As the world awakens in a gradual shift
The weakness of the night reveals what is strong
And my worries and fears are set free to drift
This is one of those times when you wake up during the night filled with confusing thoughts and emotions and the next thing you know, you’re writing a poem that may make very little sense, but then, and only then, you fall back to sleep.
The funny thing is, I’ve mostly lived in brand new houses. But that one time, and it only takes one time, there was that old house…
Old Houses
Old houses are scary
Didn’t they know that about me
Or didn’t they care
Thinking they could take me anywhere
Their whims led them
Their limbs fed them
House to house
Door to door
For richer or poorer
Deception was their slave and their ruler
Cobwebs in the buggy in the old garage
Hidden was the spouse or was it a mirage
Memories jumping out as spooky as the night
Why were they surprised when I stood up to fight
The mist hangs over locking the doors
Prayers and fasting knock me to the floor
Foggy are the mirrors in the season of Lent
Coming out wiser is a time well spent
Light from the sun as bedrooms change borders
Sons over daughters questioning the order
Looking back are fears and questions
Breaking the mirror was not a suggestion
Lost in the bedroom without any power
Anger rising to the surface hour by hour
Caught in a web without an election
Packing the car, tires squealing like an ejection
Owning my power was the most courageous thing I did
Praying tonight for the world’s protection of kids
I desire to desire to desire to love and forgive and forget
But, clearly, I am not quite there yet
It’s the 8th day of NaPoWriMo (yearly poetry challenge in the month of April), and I’d forgotten all about it until I sat down to write my feelings down and it turned into a poem of sorts.
To be honest, I’ve been struggling about which art to focus on this month, so maybe I should take a shot at NaPoWriMo, in my own way.
Seen vs Heard
It seems when I want to be heard, I’m ignored
And when I want to be ignored, I’m seen
I don’t know what troubles me more
That or the guilt I feel when I let off some steam
FAWM (February Album Writing Month) 2022 begins in 10-11 days and I find myself jotting down my song ideas in poetic/lyrical fashion. Well, just this one, so far. I’ve been worried that I haven’t been that inspired lately, still a bit burned out after writing 60 songs for 50/90 last summer, but maybe this one will kickstart more to come.
“Silence of the Night”
In the silence of the night I seek you
The lonely car shines the light
Bringing you into view
Funny how tires on a road
Trigger the truth I already know
That in the silence of the night I hear you
The room is shrinking with each pulse beating
Sweat fills the mind swirling with breathing
Droplets of blood caress prayers of panic
Penance required for sins they inflict
The house on a foreign coast left me reeling
Memories of home and loss I was feeling
Counting the days of untold ruination
Struggling faith born of a new revelation
The beginning of masks worn and masks torn
Leaving the planet of the sick and forlorn
Delusions of a world so badly broken
Ears covered desires previously unspoken
The pulse beats louder with the world now shrinking
Sweat swirls the mind with gasps of breathing
Droplets of prayers caress life’s panic
Sins now required for penance they inflict
Experimenting with lyric videos, I decided to try doing something new with my YouTube videos. This one is based on my first song for 50/90 this year: A Lifetime, telling the story of my lifetime (well, just a wee bit) through poetry, lyrics, video and music.
I’ve been reading How to Read a Poem and Fall in Love with Poetry by Edward Hirsch and when I read “One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop, I fell in love, to quote my dad. (It’s copyrighted so I can only provide a link to it on poetryfoundation.org.)
And then that very day, Austin Kleon just happened to mention an article in the NY Times where they dissected it. What???
I so related to the message of the poem itself, but what then intrigued me was the form of this particular poem—villanelle—nineteen lines divided into six stanzas—five tercets and one quatrain—turning on two rhymes and built around two refrains. The first and third lines rhyme throughout, as do the middle lines of each stanza. The first and third lines become the refrain of alternate stanzas and the final two lines of the poem.
I don’t usually go for tightly-formed poems, only if my instincts guide me into those same forms. Or maybe Mr. Clukas’ poetry class sunk in deeper than I’d thought – lol!
But I must write one of these. The concept is just so lyrical. And because it is a strict form, I probably won’t do it in the middle of the night on my iPhone, but will, indeed, have to sit at my computer and think it through.
Screamie Birds Studios 