Drums pounding in my brain
Will I ever fall asleep again?
Plots simmer in my thoughts
Telling stories I’ve yet to write
Dreaming to be read like the books on my shelf
Music hammers all night long
Composing melodies and scheming rhymes
Verse and chorus climb the ridge
Leading me to the dreaded bridge
Thus is the life of an Indie Artist
On the outside where everything is fine
Smiles and happy faces reassuring others making them feel better
Halfway on the inside is okay, if not sublime
Sipping coffee, thinking pleasant thoughts of things that seldom matter
But look deep down on the inside where our true selves live
The self we try to deny
As we medicate with fibs
And cover up with lies
California girls must be happy no matter what
Even the cows are happy the dairy farmers claim
It’s a lifestyle and what makes California living amazingly great
Or so they say
The weather is beautiful and the beaches must be seen
Surfing, Coppertone tans, lying in the sand, heart filled with joy
Beach boys music rule like Big Kahuna kings
Riding swells with thrills as the surf slams the shore
But in the night when the truth fairies come out
Peeking into that corner in the darkness of the heart
When the world’s fake cheer quiets down
A still small voice can be heard
Gratitude abounds, let there be no doubt
The truth doesn’t deny the good in life
Feelings matter, you shouldn’t have to shout
The war between inside/outside creates the world’s strife
I don’t know how to say what I mean
Whenever I’m around you
I feel myself blush and my cheeks grow hot
Whenever I’m near you
I can’t eat my salad when we meet for lunch
Sitting across from you
I dream of you late at night
I can’t keep my eyes off you when you’re in sight
Is this love?
Is this a crush?
Are we friends?
With benefits?
Time speeds by when we’re together
Be still my beating heart
Time slows to a painful crawl like an LA freeway
Whenever we’re apart
No more questions, now I know
These are the thoughts of a woman in love
The after shave, the men’s cologne on the medicine cabinet shelf
Suits and dresses sharing their adventures in the closet with belts
Bright desert sun nudging me awake with a kiss
Are some of the little things that no longer exist
Making coffee in the kitchen doesn’t bother me
I don’t make the coffee
Nor wine from a bottle in the wine cooler
Or two fingers of Dewars
It’s standing in front of the cupboard putting away the dishes
Leaning on the past, my heart making future wishes
Between dusk and dawn, the neon lights and starlit skies
Are some of the little things my psyche craves but cannot hide
The morning sky streaks pink and orange stripes
While fragrant air steams from the earth
Water fowl tiptoes along the pond
I sip my coffee and peek through palm fronds
The rising sun blinds my sleepy eyes
The world awakens, early morning bikers swish good night
The quiet of the dawn disappears
Birds chirping, dogs walking, I mourn the loss and go inside
On this day of Easter when the Son gifts us life
Somebody is waiting for someone to die
The Native American chants by the fire
Drums beating stories where truth meets the liar
Sin does not exist we shout in the dark
Protesting songs on lyre and harp
Born with a body we claim to own
To use as we desire we gasp and we moan
Lessons we do not learn and history repeats
The next gen’s solution in tech it believes
Throw away yesterday and anything old
Reinvent everything and new is gold
One day in a lifetime all will betray
These gods that you fancied will blow away
Ghosts from the past look you in the eye
When they sit by your bedside waiting for you to die
Wow! So much happening on April 1st! And I didn’t even mention April Fool’s Day.
My first priority is Easter liturgy followed by an amazing brunch – details later on my other blog.
Then it’s my first poem for my first #NaPoWriMo and I might even work on a novel for #CampNaNo, although unofficially. Hubby signed up for a screenwriting challenge and I’m getting caught up in those exercises for my novel.
And then there’s sweet blessed music that pumps though my veins. I won’t be able to stay away.
The closer it gets to April 1st, the more overwhelmed I am about trying to do CampNano (novel), NaPo (poems), and LogicProX (music production) classes. It ain’t gonna happen. 🙂
Something’s gotta give and it’s going to be CampNano. Ouch! I have such mixed feelings about it. I’ve been trying to write both music and novels but, really, they use two different sides of the brain and it’s tough switching back and forth.
Oh sure, I sometimes see a scene and I’ll write it down and that’s fine. And sometimes writing is not only a much needed break but a break from so much technology. (Learning signal flow in Logic Pro reminds me of Mixed Signal Design Flow back at Cadence in the glory days so yes, I can do it eventually). But I don’t think I can sign up to officially pursue it all at once. Not really.
I’ve been gearing up for writing 30 poems in 30 days for #NaPoWriMo this April but I’ve just learned of #CampNaNoWriMo (April version of #NaNoWriMo–Novel Writing Month). Something has got to give! After #FAWM (February Album Writing Month), I’ve decided that perhaps I should give my ears a break and write a novel and poetry instead. I can gear back up for 50/90 (50 Songs in 90 Days) from July-October.
I’ve never been a fan of these writing challenges before but, somehow, where I am in life is leading me to loving them.
I’d just joined TAXI, I still have two months of NSAI membership, recently enrolled in a Logic Pro X Music Production class and got some new killer speakers, so I am feeling a bit guilty about putting music aside to focus on other writing. But, I tell myself, it’s only for one month. I still have time for 50/90, and I still have time for the TAXI Road Rally in November.
Let’s see how this year plays out.
Her belly leaps with joy as he feels a mother’s love
And the presence, a promise of a loyal companion
A long ago story come down from above
And the reason for the season
Advent gives us hope in the midst of sin
The tragic results of a broken world
For we must repent before we can be forgiven
To do any less would negate the yes of a teen-aged girl
When a mother-to-be resists the gift
She inflicts a lifelong wound
When she cries every day, she creates a rift
One felt from within the womb
Whatever happens, we are not alone
Questions unanswered we hold in our hand
God is there and the light is shone
Someday, my child, we shall understand
