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

More Than Just a Dream (#poem)

Many arts call me but which should I follow
To give myself completely and deeply to
One thing I know for sure are the things I would rather not do
That others may love but leave me feeling hollow

Shopping centers and strip malls
Hairstyles, make-up, YouTube videos
Writer tales of outlining leave me cold
Stuck in their head, no feelings below

Music pulls me through the tough times
Heartbreak and breakups
Feelings of not being good enough
Beating like a heart, in time with the rhymes

Writing opens the valve letting out the steam
Music digs up the deep joy that I feel
Saying it, writing it makes it too real
Too alive and dangerous and more than just a dream

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!

Reflections (#poem)

Times of transition
Are cause for reflection
As we walk this journey of life
Passing through stages
At different ages
Remembering the joy and delights

That moment I met you
Surprised me with a love so true
Nothing better than talking for days
The Mustang brochure
Impressed me for sure
Speeding down California highways

Disney World and all of the scheming
This Old House started us dreaming
Of a home of our own and kitties to share
Our longings came true
Warm fires without a flue
Ignited sparks that took us everywhere

We lived near the mouse
In a Minnie Mouse house
On a pond and woods in the back
But soon we were homesick
Strangers in the tropics
Three kitties in the car heading west on the fast track

The Florida dream over
No looking over shoulders
Bright lights and the desert called us to Vegas
Two years became the ten year plan
Trips to the beach and Disneyland
A whisper from the past became a prayer to trust

In a time of transition
I begin my reflection
No more building houses from the ground
Going home has more meaning
A house is just a building
And home is where true love is found

Girls In Black Cars (#poem)

Girls in black cars
Long and lean
Driving down the highway
Built for speed
After so much waiting I can finally say
“It’s happening!”

Poems writing themselves
When you could not sleep
Did it bring you comfort
Did it offer relief
Did you know we were so alike
Striving to achieve

Young pretty grandma
Smiling hazel eyes
Five boys to raise
And then one surprise
Baby girl rocking gently in your arms
Hidden away a lifetime of disguise

Growing up quickly
Racing down the highway near and far
Playing music loudly
Learning how to pray in a bar
Challenging boys to the quarter mile
Picture tells the story of women in black cars

They Say They Want a Better World (#poem)

They say they want a better world
Yet having kids with different mothers and fathers
Wounding the children without real love and discipline
Taking meaningless selfies to post on Instagram
Asking “how are you?” they could not be bothered

They say they want a better world
Using the *F* word as if it is cool
Running from God out of sheer rebellion
Thinking they know better than those who came before them
Reinventing the world with their own silly rules

They say they want a better world
While enabling others to harm themselves
Legalizing hurts in the name of freedom
Values on “Father Knows Best” are now shunned
When the worst one could say was “damn” or “hells bells”

They say they want a better world
Filling their life with false gods and their stooges
Paying the price of greedy addictions
Turning away from moral convictions
Yet there’s hope I do believe
Old-fashioned values can still be seen
In “Incredibles 2” if one so chooses

How Far We Have Come (#poem)

Sometimes we forget how far we have come
In the darkness of what is lost
In the morning light the truth shines bright
On simpler times and battles won

Sitting on the couch holding hands in our mind
In the freshness of new love
Nothing better than this, Ginger purrs with a kiss
Leaving the past far behind

Blessings abound so starts our new life
Our enthusiasm strikes a match
Skipper, Lovey, Buddy make three, hearts full and free
Their leaving cuts like a knife

Memories of houses and adventures galore
Photos make it real
A year ago last April, in-between time is painful
We’ve been here before

We may not see where the road leads
But promises have always come true
Something better ahead and so we are led
How far we have come, down on our knees



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.