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Week 201 (February 13-19). Poems. Topic: Your Favorite Song
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Our SongIt starts every morning,
When I look into your eyes.
Your strong arms, your soft smile,
Your love without disguise.
It calls out to me all day long,
Even when you're far away.
As the world tries to tear us apart,
It's why I know you'll stay.
It's chorus is our moans of love,
At night in twisted sheets.
Pounded out and raced along,
By the sound of amorous heart beats.
And as each day fades away,
I know I'm where I belong.
As I hear our love like music,
I know you're my favorite song.
The Concert
A crescendo of emotion
Rising into the night,
Joy and sorrow,
Mixing into something,
Like a broth in a bowl.
It rises into the air,
Swaying like the wind,
She feels like a storybook princess,
As if she is rising in the air, like an angel.
Wings seem to caress her face, which feels smooth and
Fair.
The music seems to echo, like a voice in a cavern.
She closes her eyes, and it feels as if she has disappeared into the
Pages of music,
As if she is now in the music itself.
As if she is integrated into the music.
Perhaps she is the music.
Perhaps there was never a difference.
She stops abruptly, and exits the music
Into the concert hall.
Dozens of roses make their way to her.
She bows, and bows again, feels her cheeks flushed,
Feels not like an angel, but like a little girl again.
A bouquet is given to her by a dashing man.
Shouts of praise fill the air,
Applause makes it way to her ears
And becomes her favorite song.
A crescendo of emotion
Rising into the night,
Joy and sorrow,
Mixing into something,
Like a broth in a bowl.
It rises into the air,
Swaying like the wind,
She feels like a storybook princess,
As if she is rising in the air, like an angel.
Wings seem to caress her face, which feels smooth and
Fair.
The music seems to echo, like a voice in a cavern.
She closes her eyes, and it feels as if she has disappeared into the
Pages of music,
As if she is now in the music itself.
As if she is integrated into the music.
Perhaps she is the music.
Perhaps there was never a difference.
She stops abruptly, and exits the music
Into the concert hall.
Dozens of roses make their way to her.
She bows, and bows again, feels her cheeks flushed,
Feels not like an angel, but like a little girl again.
A bouquet is given to her by a dashing man.
Shouts of praise fill the air,
Applause makes it way to her ears
And becomes her favorite song.
message 4:
by
♕ ❤ ♕ Princess pink diamonds posh bird LINZY.x.♕ ❤ ♕
(last edited Feb 13, 2014 10:13AM)
(new)
OUR FAVOURITE SONG.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every time I hear it played
My heart beats fast and strong
The warm embrace of music clear
Brings back our favourite song.
The day we met and shared our glance
Our shyness hidden not long
You asked me to dance and I said yes
This was to be our song.
The months passed by so happily
Our hearts where they belonged
You asked "marry me" and I said yes
Our first dance,our favourite song.
You're other love,your motorbike
You played with all day long
The radio played while you played
The song,our favourite song.
One day the news that you'd been killed
You're motorbike sped along
Killed instantly there was no doubt
I knew I must stay strong.
Now two years later the memories stay
Our perfect life not long
But everytime my heart has pain
I play our favourite song.
The Song of the Mirror by Catherine Niedzwiecki Copywrite 2014
Honey,
Remember when you broke my mirror?
The one I shivered into when I needed to disappear?
You were overloaded, moving from Roanoke to Richmond,
Climbing up apartment stairs. Just an ordinary mirror,
But to you the thing had a gilt lining, and a ginormous glow
Lit up your face when I let you take a turn. 3 years your senior. Our reflections yearned
For clearer truths. We looked into the mirror, stemming reality abuses back.
*Seven years I will pine
For the broken pieces,* you said. *Seven years I will be unable to forego the leaden woe.
Oh, the bad luck that will befall, like I have not had enough already. Let’s name the mirror:
Mourning cloak. “Where were your wings when I needed you, mirror?”*
I had just moved to Texas. Your brother who looked into the mirror
Was hearing voices and killed a dog. Other mirrors would require torches
and our darker shades of lipstick would probably be smeared across our wry-mouthed faces.
Tosh tosh honey child,
I said, just let it go.
*Remember that Joni Mitchell song you played over and over lip synching into the mirror? Your favorite song your senior year? The one about needing a river in Winter to teach her feet to fly? For months you played that song. Ah, you and Neil. I feel like we skated into the mirror into our future lives and came back with souvenir ores to remind us how to fly. I wear Japan Black eye shadow now to mourn the mirror: No more Prussian Blue. My feet were flying up those stairs. I really bought a clue.*
Tosh, Honey Child, let it go. The mirror would want you to.
*Well, I look stony cold in my new mirror. 7 years, sister. I am sorry. I miss you. But that ore. Do you still have yours?* She had to ask. *Mine will survive the crashing mirror. The shadow of loss.*
I thought my ore was a block of ice, and the ice truly marginalized the mirror. That is actually why I left the mirror and the mirror’s icefall behind. I stopped wearing makeup that year, too. Hippy dippy do.
Now I think my ore was just an Iceland moss. Still, I ate those edible branching fronds so I would not feel lost. But I – now I remember, and this is the real cost, my first year of college, that December, my cousin gave me a diamond ring. *Our ore is diamonds,* she said.
My father said to decline. He bought me a blue zirconium once and – my mother gave me pearls when I was young – well, I lost – ninny I was, each gift – had a hard enough time collecting my thoughts. Ah, keeping things. Needless to say, I lost her ring, also. Ore was ice so many years ago for so long. Where do the broken pieces of *so* go?
*Remember those other songs,* she said. *Girl, how you loved to rewind. I hope you’ll play our song that long. Over and over. And remember that ore when you are feeling terrible. Our ore. *
Girl, our song is suspended in time.
Our song does not shatter. Lo, the causes and effects though: spiny elm caterpillar moth larvae.
You cannot push stop and play and rewind with Love.
You can warp it somehow though. For many years I dreamt of tangled cassette tape threads and cassettes mangled by the roadsides.
Honey, learn Italian now. Go to school. Forget the songs, forget the mirror. Forget what shatters and what gets lost. I have to every time I see my hand.
*Tosh,* she says. *We’ll say it was the mirrors fault. Remember the pause button!*
Oh, the steepness of Love.
The steeple of reflection.
The wings that sometimes give.
Let’s keep our lips ruby. We can still be Painted ladies though the clouds seem now lined with ash silver, like silvery moth silver. But the clouds are still in the air you would say.
Push pause there.
Honey,
Remember when you broke my mirror?
The one I shivered into when I needed to disappear?
You were overloaded, moving from Roanoke to Richmond,
Climbing up apartment stairs. Just an ordinary mirror,
But to you the thing had a gilt lining, and a ginormous glow
Lit up your face when I let you take a turn. 3 years your senior. Our reflections yearned
For clearer truths. We looked into the mirror, stemming reality abuses back.
*Seven years I will pine
For the broken pieces,* you said. *Seven years I will be unable to forego the leaden woe.
Oh, the bad luck that will befall, like I have not had enough already. Let’s name the mirror:
Mourning cloak. “Where were your wings when I needed you, mirror?”*
I had just moved to Texas. Your brother who looked into the mirror
Was hearing voices and killed a dog. Other mirrors would require torches
and our darker shades of lipstick would probably be smeared across our wry-mouthed faces.
Tosh tosh honey child,
I said, just let it go.
*Remember that Joni Mitchell song you played over and over lip synching into the mirror? Your favorite song your senior year? The one about needing a river in Winter to teach her feet to fly? For months you played that song. Ah, you and Neil. I feel like we skated into the mirror into our future lives and came back with souvenir ores to remind us how to fly. I wear Japan Black eye shadow now to mourn the mirror: No more Prussian Blue. My feet were flying up those stairs. I really bought a clue.*
Tosh, Honey Child, let it go. The mirror would want you to.
*Well, I look stony cold in my new mirror. 7 years, sister. I am sorry. I miss you. But that ore. Do you still have yours?* She had to ask. *Mine will survive the crashing mirror. The shadow of loss.*
I thought my ore was a block of ice, and the ice truly marginalized the mirror. That is actually why I left the mirror and the mirror’s icefall behind. I stopped wearing makeup that year, too. Hippy dippy do.
Now I think my ore was just an Iceland moss. Still, I ate those edible branching fronds so I would not feel lost. But I – now I remember, and this is the real cost, my first year of college, that December, my cousin gave me a diamond ring. *Our ore is diamonds,* she said.
My father said to decline. He bought me a blue zirconium once and – my mother gave me pearls when I was young – well, I lost – ninny I was, each gift – had a hard enough time collecting my thoughts. Ah, keeping things. Needless to say, I lost her ring, also. Ore was ice so many years ago for so long. Where do the broken pieces of *so* go?
*Remember those other songs,* she said. *Girl, how you loved to rewind. I hope you’ll play our song that long. Over and over. And remember that ore when you are feeling terrible. Our ore. *
Girl, our song is suspended in time.
Our song does not shatter. Lo, the causes and effects though: spiny elm caterpillar moth larvae.
You cannot push stop and play and rewind with Love.
You can warp it somehow though. For many years I dreamt of tangled cassette tape threads and cassettes mangled by the roadsides.
Honey, learn Italian now. Go to school. Forget the songs, forget the mirror. Forget what shatters and what gets lost. I have to every time I see my hand.
*Tosh,* she says. *We’ll say it was the mirrors fault. Remember the pause button!*
Oh, the steepness of Love.
The steeple of reflection.
The wings that sometimes give.
Let’s keep our lips ruby. We can still be Painted ladies though the clouds seem now lined with ash silver, like silvery moth silver. But the clouds are still in the air you would say.
Push pause there.
Mandy wrote: "Our Song
It starts every morning,
When I look into your eyes.
Your strong arms, your soft smile,
Your love without disguise.
It calls out to me all day long,
Even when you're far away.
As the wor..."
I love meeting people who become favorite songs. Nice poem, Mandy!
It starts every morning,
When I look into your eyes.
Your strong arms, your soft smile,
Your love without disguise.
It calls out to me all day long,
Even when you're far away.
As the wor..."
I love meeting people who become favorite songs. Nice poem, Mandy!
Princess pink diamonds posh bird LINZY.x. wrote: "
OUR FAVOURITE SONG.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every time I hear it played
My heart beats fast and strong
The warm embrace of music clear
Brings back our favourite song.
The day we met and share..."
This is beautiful and the rhythm really rings a chord. Good job~
OUR FAVOURITE SONG.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every time I hear it played
My heart beats fast and strong
The warm embrace of music clear
Brings back our favourite song.
The day we met and share..."
This is beautiful and the rhythm really rings a chord. Good job~
Coming and Going
Coffee lingers in a crowded room.
Few ventured on stage.
Singing little melodies.
None mattered to me,
Until you came.
You strung the chords,
Smoothly and rhythmically,
Letting your fingers speak.
Your eyes were brighter then lights,
And your arms were so strong and defined.
Then you opened your mouth,
And god, I swear you killed me.
While the lyrics spilled from your darkest corners,
I realized I wanted all of you.
Every flaw,
Every mistake,
Every melody you had to offer.
You weren’t there for long,
But in a few short minutes,
The mystery of you coming and going,
Became my favorite song.
Coffee lingers in a crowded room.
Few ventured on stage.
Singing little melodies.
None mattered to me,
Until you came.
You strung the chords,
Smoothly and rhythmically,
Letting your fingers speak.
Your eyes were brighter then lights,
And your arms were so strong and defined.
Then you opened your mouth,
And god, I swear you killed me.
While the lyrics spilled from your darkest corners,
I realized I wanted all of you.
Every flaw,
Every mistake,
Every melody you had to offer.
You weren’t there for long,
But in a few short minutes,
The mystery of you coming and going,
Became my favorite song.
I wrote this song years ago for my sweet Hubs. We recorded it a a duet. For some strange reason, it is the one song we have more trouble singing than any of the dozens of others we perform. I guess some feelings run too deep.HAVEN'T WE ALWAYS BEEN IN LOVE?
Haven't I always been in love with you?
Haven't I always lived my life with you?
Hasn't there always been a dream we two could share?
Haven't we always lifted our hearts as one in prayer?;;
It seems like only yesterday, a thousand years ago,
we said our first "Hello" and made a vow.
A wedding of our hearts and minds,
an offering of our lives;
we set aside our yesterdays and walked into the now.
Haven't I always been in love with you?
Haven't I always lived my life with you?
Hasn't there always been a dream we two could share?
Haven't we always lifted our hearts as one in prayer?
And when we sing together now,
another voice enters in and sings along -
shattering our doubts and fears,
empowering the love we feel,
becoming a part of the song. . .
Sweet Spirit:
Haven't we always been in love with You?
Haven't we always lived our lives for You?
Haven't You always had a dream for us to share?
Haven't we always lifted our hearts as one (to You) in prayer?
(SDG)
#####
message 11:
by
♕ ❤ ♕ Princess pink diamonds posh bird LINZY.x.♕ ❤ ♕
(last edited Feb 13, 2014 04:00PM)
(new)
Reka wrote: "Princess pink diamonds posh bird LINZY.x. wrote: "OUR FAVOURITE SONG.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every time I hear it played
My heart beats fast and strong
The warm embrace of music clear
Brings ..."
Thanks Reka.
*What Happened to "Best Friends"?*I'm tired of walking on eggshells
To protect your fragile heart
Whenever something of false meaning pops up
You decide I'm suddenly at fault
And no matter what I say to you
The arguments drone on and on and on
I swear it's almost as if the words of our fights
Are the lyrics to your favorite song
Will you please explain to me
The meaning of every scream or yell?
Because it seems the longer we live with this "friendship"
It's more like living in hell
I hate your sour tone
And those double-sided swords
Always cutting through our closeness
The worst pain coming from your words
You can't take back the things you've said to me
And your boyfriend could care less
But for once I wish you would pretend
That this friendship of our is actually precious.
*One SummerWe met one summer
a few years ago.
What I saw in him
I don't know.
He wasn't my type.
He wore a leather
jacket and rode a
motorbike.
He felt it too,
how could I like
this goody two-shoes.
But there was a spark,
a flame, something
that neither of us
could explain.
We spent that summer
being careless and free
and when I hear our song
it reminds me of him
asking "will you marry me"?
I'll leave it up to you guys to decide if they married or not!
Billie Jo wrote: "*What Happened to "Best Friends"?*I'm tired of walking on eggshells
To protect your fragile heart
When whenever something of false meaning pops up
You decide I'm suddenly at fault
And no matter w..."
Wow! Love it...
Dragonflies and Raindrops Removed for publication - sorry!
Ryan wrote: "Dragonflies and RaindropsIt starts with a single languid drop,
softly beating a hardpan drum.
Cicada sighs warble a scorched-earth vibrato
to rush skyward, the long-dry undone.
Rusty tears tr..."
I really like that Ryan, it's a little different than the other poems I've read of yours but still distinctly in your voice. I love the language and the places where the rhyme is split across the line. I can't decide if I like the realisation of 'Gibson and Fender'or not, I'll have to keep reading it until I decide.
Thanks, Nicky. Gibson and Fender were both German Shepherds who once lived with me (in my guitar-obsessed youth). I considered changing their names for the poem to avoid such obvious images (and embarrassment at my poor naming ability)... Worth a change do you think?
I'm not familiar with poetry so can't critique it, Ryan, but it certainly 'spoke' to me, very evocative. I don't understand the 'hunting Tigers' bit, though. Sorry, I'm a bit thick when it comes to poetry and nearly always need explanations before I can fully appreciate it.
Mandy, 'Our Song' is right up there with my favorites of your poetry. Most of what I've read from you so far has been harder and darker (which I like very much, don't get me wrong) but I found it refreshing and enjoyable to read a poem that is linear, without twists and based around such a nice thought. The language is great, the rhythm is as strong as ever and I like the concept of perfect love in such a skeptical world. Nicely done!
Hi, Jay! Thank you. I think you're selling yourself a bit short, I'd say it's more likely a geographical thing - I was referring to the Tiger Snakes that plague the long, dry grass here (Australia) and become a real problem for dogs over summer. My dogs love to hunt them but tiger snakes are venomous and usually come out on top.
Sofia, do you play an instrument? You've captured the feeling of performing and losing yourself in the pause between notes so nicely in 'The Concert'. I really like your lines, 'Perhaps she is the music/Perhaps there was never a difference'. Such a great thought. Your final two lines add a really nice twist. While reading, I thought the focus was on the narrator's music but switching the focus and making the applause the link to the topic was very clever and so nicely executed.
Princess, you've done a nice job with the rhyme in 'Our Favorite Song', it flows along very smoothly. Your poem covers a lot of ground and a lot of emotion and I really like the strength and hope conveyed in your final line. It left me pondering whether a love is any less strong if it only exists for a short time. Well done!
Ryan wrote: "Hi, Jay! Thank you. I think you're selling yourself a bit short, I'd say it's more likely a geographical thing - I was referring to the Tiger Snakes that plague the long, dry grass here (Australia)..."Ah, that makes sense now :)
Ryan wrote: "Princess, you've done a nice job with the rhyme in 'Our Favorite Song', it flows along very smoothly. Your poem covers a lot of ground and a lot of emotion and I really like the strength and hope ..."Thanks Ryan.That means a lot.
I'm really glad you like it.:)
Nicky wrote: "Ryan wrote: "Dragonflies and RaindropsI don't know if you should change the names; I think it depends on whether you want people to create that mental link as they invariably will, or not.
Ryan wrote: "Dragonflies and RaindropsIt starts with a single languid drop,
softly beating a hardpan drum.
Cicada sighs warble a scorched-earth vibrato
to rush skyward, the long-dry undone.
Rusty tears tr..."
I love this!
Reka, 'The Song of the Mirror' is an intense tale following seven years of bad luck and the journey of sisters searching for wings. Your language is great and your ideas deep and thought-provoking. While not an easy read, it is definitely an enjoyable one. I always enjoy poems that make me dig deeper. The only suggestion I can offer relates to your use of * for the speech. I found it a bit confusing in places and having to use 'she said' hampers the flow and makes it more of a narrative to my way of reading. Perhaps you could consider placing the second speaker's words in italics? I think this may be more effective. Just a thought though, your poem is a very powerful piece of writing. Beautiful!
Ryan, first of all: Thank you for your critique! I always appreciate your insight. The "*" is supposed to signify italics. I am not sure how to italicize on Goodreads submissions. Is there anything else I can do make the read flow more? Thanks again!
CaT
CaT
Cheyenne - wow! I love it! Your first line is magic, 'Coffee lingers in a crowded room' - what a way to set the scene, simple and so very effective. You've written plenty of great lines in this poem, but the two that knocked me sideways are 'Then you opened your mouth/And god, I swear you killed me'. They came out of nowhere and had loads of impact. Your two final lines are wonderful, too. I've spent years playing guitar in different bands and I thought you encapsulated the scene and the dream perfectly. Two small things - in the ninth line, 'then' should be 'than'. Also, I haven't heard the term 'strung the chords' before. It works, I know what you meant but I wonder if 'strummed the chords' would be slightly better?
Anyway, I think your poem is amazing and thoroughly enjoyed every bit of it. Well done :)
Reka wrote: "Ryan, first of all: Thank you for your critique! I always appreciate your insight. The "*" is supposed to signify italics. I am not sure how to italicize on Goodreads submissions. Is there anyt..."Hi, Reka. If you click on the (some html is ok) link above the comment box, you will see a list of html codes that you can insert before and after text to add italics, bold, etc. if you put an 'i' in between < > at the start of the text you want italicized and /i in between < > at the close of the italicized text, it will convert that portion to italics once you post. I hope that makes sense, I can't type it out or you will just see italics. Look at the link and it should make sense.
thanks Ryan...testing...testing...
Paula, such a beautiful song you've written. I can just imagine how special your husband must've felt the first time he heard it. The lyrics are so nice, I can almost hear two voices singing as I read. I really love 'we set aside our yesterdays and walked into the now'.
Hi, Billie Jo! I'm so glad I'm not the one on the receiving end of your poem - ouch! Your rhyme and sense of rhythm are really solid and your words flow very easily. You've expressed the pain and hurt caused by a friend who doesn't value a friendship so clearly. Two small things I hope you don't mind me pointing out for when you edit - in line 3, I'd remove 'when' and just keep 'whenever'. In line 7, after 'as' it should be 'if' not 'of'.Great poem, full of pain and feeling, well done!
Sarah, your poem is so nice and carefree. I'm sure it ended as a Happily Ever After :) You made me think of Grease with the picture you painted. This is a fun poem, lively and bouncy and full of the reckless love of youth. So enjoyable to read, thank you.
I wrote this one while I was listening to some of my favorite songs at the time. It has 10 different song allusions in it. Can anybody name them all? When I’m gone,
Maybe you’ll miss me-
When nights are long,
And thoughts are drifting.
Please think of me,
Just once or twice,
Though now I lie here,
Cold as ice.
Just give me a reason,
One chance for me to stay.
Then when I have risen,
I will know my way.
Just a little bit’s enough,
To keep me alive.
A sign we’re still us;
And we are alive.
Not sure how to feel about it,
This fearless fear I have.
In the weakest moments I forget,
Death is not the end.
No one can feel this for me,
For I would not believe.
If only I could make them see,
It’s nearly time to leave.
I dive into frozen waves,
Clarity finally here.
Why must I still be brave,
My heart gripped in fear.
I’m tangled up in you,
It’s more than I can take.
Seeing you, at a loss to do;
I decided I can’t wait.
Even the best fall down,
Often enough to hurt.
But where much sin does abound,
Grace has the final word.
Spinning on a thin sheet of ice,
I can’t do this on my own.
Standing here in the light-
I know God is my home.
Along this narrow road,
I keep moving forward.
God understands my load-
And wants to be my LORD.
“Crazy girl, don’t you know I love you?
More than anything else?
For you I created the sun and moon,
My creation you are blessed!”
Dance, I spin and twirl.
This chance is finally mine.
Though the far off future may not unfurl,
Today the choice is mine.
Ryan wrote: "Paula, such a beautiful song you've written. I can just imagine how special your husband must've felt the first time he heard it. The lyrics are so nice, I can almost hear two voices singing as I ..."Thank you so much. It is one of my early pieces of music and was done all of a piece, if you get my drift. Young love does that. If it needs any explaining, my husband was a United Methodist pastor (now retired), and we spent a great deal of our ministry together doing concerts. He is a wonderful singer as well as an incredibly talented visual artist, which he is doing almost full time now, since he has retired from the pulpit. I don't know why I chose to post this particular song, as I have written many more and most of those much better than this one. Guess I made a sentimental choice, and I was too lazy to write a new one. . .I was in the hospital anyway (no big deal - just a huge annoyance for someone like me who HATES the hospital).
Your song fascinated me (in a good way), but I am still trying to wrap my mind around it. I wonder what music would do to it, and how it would alter the sense of the lyrics. . .just a thought. Thanks again for your very kind words for this one of my early efforts.
BTW, I was too late for the previous week, but I posted one there anyway. Did you get a chance to read it? Sort of funny in that it reflects love again, but of a much older variety! :-)
Thanks Ryan! It was a fun one to construct.Isabel, I love your Poem!
Sarah wrote: "Thanks Ryan! It was a fun one to construct.Isabel, I love your Poem!"
Thanks, Sarah!
When then crowd has goneLate, when the lights are dimmed,
The roar and crush is gone.
“I’ll buy you a song” you smile,
Dark eyes laughing,
In your hand a coin.
Then words of freedom soar,
On wings of futures
Yet to be found.
Dancing in the kitchen.
Laughing ‘till we cried.
Tickets for a front row seat.
Friends and food and wine.
Talking ‘till the sun rose.
Walking arm in arm.
Singing at a stormy sky.
A joke, a tale, a song.
“Which is your favourite?” you say
Difficult then,
To choose just one.
-----------
oops, forgot to say any comments would be welcome!
Nicky
Lies and DeceptionSometimes I'm soaring in the sky
Other times I'm sinking in to the ground
I feel like all I do is lie
Even when I don't make a sound
I listen to my favorite song
So I can tune out my own brain
The brain that tells me all I've done wrong
I have to shut it out to keep sane
No one told me it would hurt so bad
Then again no one tells me anything
I don't care anymore I'm just so mad
I want to know about everything
But no one is entirely honest
No matter how hard the try
Because even being modest
Is some kind of lie
Ryan wrote: "Cheyenne - wow! I love it! Your first line is magic, 'Coffee lingers in a crowded room' - what a way to set the scene, simple and so very effective. You've written plenty of great lines in this poe..."
Hi Ryan!! Thank you so much for your nice comments and for the help. It means a lot. I'm very glad you enjoyed it! I thought this week's theme was great and I had plenty of inspiration!!
Hi Ryan!! Thank you so much for your nice comments and for the help. It means a lot. I'm very glad you enjoyed it! I thought this week's theme was great and I had plenty of inspiration!!
i put the cd on, click playundo the buttons of my shirt
as if this will help me get closer to the music
lie on my back,close my eyes
and unravel
my bones ache and my emotions churn
i am as unsteady as the day i understood
there is no going back
from learning the meaning behind words
i am bound
i inhale every note
and they burrow deep into my skin
i get lost in the whirlwind of words
excerpts from my diary that someone else wrote
this is where i find solace
it is not a gospel song
but it is scripture to me
i am not a believer
but in these secret moments
faith blossoms, my soul smiles
it spells my heartache out
and i exhale, grateful
for my lungs have suffered too much
exhausted from keeping me
and my thoughts steady
the meaning has changed
but it is still the same song
i thought it was about a boy
but the words do not bring forth his image
instead i see my steadfast flight
the song comes to its grand end
i let the last notes pass through me
like a kiss, sweet sailing
my heart thanks me
i get through another day
Song of the River Fool“So I told my troubles to the river
And I tossed them in the deep
And I washed my hands in the river
But the river brings more trouble to me”
--Tom McRae, “Told My Troubles to the River”
Told my troubles to the river,
but it was wise and very clever
kept running, leaving my words by the rocky side.
Didn’t need me, didn’t care if I lived or died.
It had to drag its own weight through mountains
take what it could to keep going,
silt, sand, stone, or wood, whatever was
in the way and wouldn’t just give in.
So why tell my troubles to the river?
Couldn’t help it, I was lost in its song.
My lips moved without my knowing.
Trouble was the river just flowed on.
River just flowed on.
I should maybe throw myself in.
-o-
That is so beautiful Jim. I love poems about rivers.
SamarraI am under her spell again
as I turn in the night sleeplessly
and a low, restless beat echoes hollow in me,
winding slowly--the song of a long, purple night
of Samarra, music from a strange afterlight
like a set in a play in a dream.
I can see them there moving, but they are unreal.
Now enslaved by the rhythm, transparent they seem,
motioning in a fever to me, to reveal
what was lost to the years. They cry voicelessly,
where she stands in the glow! But she fades and is gone.
I am under her spell again,
and desire is working its will upon me
in the night, as the ghostly Samarra plays on.
Hear ye! As the sun goes down over Week 201, please make your way to the polls and cast your votes. It has been an outstanding week of entries in both competitions. The mice will be hosting a black and white movie night and serving hot chocolate and marshmallows for all who attend.Story Poll: https://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/9...
Poetry Poll: https://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/9...
The pirates have spoken and the poetry mantle easily passes to Billie Jo for Week 201. Spoiling for a fight, she questions "what happened to 'best friends'?" Congratulations, Billie Jo!Luckily there are a number of pirates in second place this week, for the captain has ordered a top-to-bottom scrubbing after last week's food fight. Cheyenne, Nicky, Catherine, Jim, Paula, Mandy, Isabel and I all get busy cleaning frankfurts and donuts from the strangest of crevices.
Figuring there are enough hands scrubbing decks, the third place posse set up a net and launch into a game of pirate jollyball (it's like volleyball but has a few more 'aaarrrrs!!' involved). Sarah, Princess, Rachel, Amrie, Sofia and M can be seen spiking and setting as the WSS sails into the sunset.
Well done all, thank you for another imaginative and enjoyable week.
Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a poem previously used in this group.
Your poem can be any length.
This week’s topic is: Your Favorite Song
*Thanks to Aurora for the idea*
The rules are pretty loose. You can write a poem about anything that has to do with the topic. I do not care, but the poem you post must relate to the topic somehow.
Have fun!