Remember When (#poem) (#lyrics) (#50/90)

Big problem haunting me
is now resolved
Not feeling excitement
but relief
Sneaking in day by day
can barely celebrate
Searching for the home I
vaguely recall

This is how this chapter
ends then
From a caterpillar
to a butterfly
Leaving behind that life
I know not why
Forever recall with
“remember when”

Remember when his breath smelled good
First beer, first kiss out in the woods
Remember when the grease smelled nice
Flipping burgers on a Friday night
First job, first car was “Out-a-sight”
Remember when
The way it was back then

Now I ask
oh where is home
Now that the old one
has fled and gone
To be content I must
cease to long
From here on out am I
called to roam?

Remember when his breath smelled good
First beer, first kiss out in the woods
Remember when the grease smelled nice
Flipping burgers on a Friday night
First job, first car was “out-a-sight”
Remember when
The way it was back then

I hear a song
writing in my head
In that moment
I am always home
Memories are close
I record on my phone
And thumb through photos
to remember when

Remember when his breath smelled good
First beer, first kiss out in the woods
Remember when the grease smelled nice
Flipping burgers on a Friday night
First job, first car was “Out-a-sight”
Remember when
The way it was back then

 

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

Fool for A While (#lyrics #poem #50/90)

You told me lies
about loving me
You were just in love with yourself
You came by
almost every day
Wooing me to take me off the shelf

I was a fool
for a while
Only cuz I wanted to be
I no longer
have that need inside
It’s time to stand up to you
Time to stand up for me

Don’t know why
I fell for you
On the rebound, feeling desperately
He was the one
I really loved
So you swooped in so sneakily

I was a fool
for a while
Only cuz I wanted to be
I no longer
have that need inside
It’s time to stand up to you
Time to stand up for me

Must have been weak
Must have been crazy
Too darn proud
A bit of lazy

I was a fool
for a while
Only cuz I wanted to be
I no longer
have that need inside
It’s time to stand up to you
Time to stand up for me

I was a fool
for a while
Only cuz I wanted to be
I no longer
have that need inside
It’s time to stand up to you
Time to stand up for me

 

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

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

 

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.

Tequila, Take Me Home

I wrote this song when we were living in Florida. We were having lunch at La Fiesta, the most Southern California Mexican restaurant in the New Smyrna Beach/Daytona area and I was soaking up the atmosphere, the Mexican music, and the “Mexican Margarita,” as they called it. It was my favorite, if not a bit strong.

A Native Californian, I was so homesick for the West Coast so I took a drink and said, “Tequila, Take Me Home.” That became a song.

So when Taxi A&R had a listing for “drinking songs,” I submitted it. Well, it was not forwarded. But after last night’s episode where they played many of the submissions and we got to vote +1 or -1 as to whether we thought it should be forwarded, I realized my mistake. It was not a “drinking song” in the real meaning of that. It was more of a homesick song – lol!

I have a couple of other drinking songs that would have been more appropriate but they need some work. But it might be good to do the work now because you never know when they might just have another call for that kind of song.

I Freakin’ Love Music Production

So I started my Silicon Valley career in book production working for San Francisco publishers and printers before I segued to high tech companies in San Jose. Unfortunately, production departments were eventually incorporated into technical writing so I was forced to do both. But I’ve always had a thing for production. And now it’s music production.

You know how you can’t seem to avoid people on Facebook who follow some site called “I freakin’ love science” (to put it nicely). Well, I freakin’ love music production. I can’t resist watching videos of music producers working in their studios. Oh, yeah, Loopcloud isn’t bad either.

Check out this video about the latest version of Loopcloud.

Heavenly Holmes Band (Musical Family Story and Testimony)

I grew up up without knowing my father or my father’s family. It’s complicated. But my maternal grandmother was a staunch Jehovah’s Witness and my father’s family were Baptists and she wasn’t about to hand me over to the Baptists. How ironic I should become Catholic. 🙂

Anyway, when I came into contact with my father and his family in my 40s, my Uncle Don said:

“Now that you know you’re a Holmes, you’re going to want to pay attention to music.”

And he began to tell me the family stories and the talents of the family I had never known.

Along about the same time, my literary agent said:

“Your writing has a poetic, almost lyrical rhythm to it.”

What did that mean? Poetic? Me? Lyrical? Really? But I had heard that my paternal grandmother wrote poetry and my grandfather was a musician, so I started to look at my love of music and this lyrical rhythm I apparently had to see what I might do about it. That was the beginning of my serious pursuit of music, including songwriting.

As the story goes, my great grandfather made musical instruments and, of course, then, he could play all of them. My grandfather played the keys and sang in a band (besides, being a pitcher for the Memphis Chicks), my uncles and dad either sang and/or played various instruments, from guitar to drums to bass to the keyboard.

In school, I’d heard that I had a musical ear. My vocal coach in Las Vegas (who had appeared in Mamma Mia on stage), said I had a great ear for music. Anyway, back to music in school, I sang in the choir, solo’d and played the organ, piano, guitar, and violin in fits and starts. The constant for me was singing – that was my favorite part. And as a modern musician, I’ve discovered that, like great grandpa, I love to arrange an assortment of instruments through music production – I absolutely love that!

All of that family except for one younger uncle are gone now so I like to think that some day I’ll play and sing with the Heavenly Holmes Band. (For more about Uncle Ron’s musical talent, check out his obituary).

Listening to Travis Greene this afternoon, I’m calling on the Heavenly Holmes Band to be my prayer warriors and all play and sing this song together: