I wrote a song. Created the music, too. My son did final production and the vocals, but everything else is me, baby!
I only wrote the song because “if you guys can do this, so can I!” Nice burst of creativity last week. I hope I didn’t peak.
Also, I submitted this under the band name “Just Ducky”. I had reasons, not good ones, but reasons.
Songwriting challenge: write a song about a specific scene in a book or movie. You should be able to figure it out.
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The heart knows what it wants
but has no control
and for every day
the knock it desires does not arrive
you fight the urge to pound your fist
on an empty chair;
pointless frustration
There is no bouquet of happiness
or framed photos of perfection
that can capture events
you conjure in your mind.
The dream of what could be
is colored chalk in the rain
Thundering reality rumbles
warning to not stray beyond the shelter
of the known.
Not unloveable
just unloved
each morning begins
with dim light and dim hope
slowly budding
until you forget the promises you made to yourself
to face reality
head-on, strong.
You forget and allow yourself to think that
Maybe this will be the day
it turns around
and you will find the flowers
you gave up for dead
have taken root
in the smallest patch of hope
in the world
The hardest part may be
Reclaiming the places and spaces once shared by two;
favorite haunts, now haunted.
You can ignore, retreat, recoil
Avoid the heartache
of a thousand happy memories
Or face them
Own them
Plant your flag in the soft sand
of towns with ocean views
Even as you wipe away tears
and try to smile
Tell the waitress you aren’t waiting for one more
even when your heart is
Because every special place you went
With him
Is a place you went
With you
You can own
those roads and restaurants,
the sun and the Saturdays
or continue giving them away
to someone
who doesn’t even
want them
(C) bigdumptruck.com
Frozen fields unfettered
blowing ice
breath short
wandering, pondering
The day stretches long and lean
Possibilities peak out
between gnarled tree branches
and frosted grass
lonely birds fly
with weak songs their
promises of warmer days.
For now, the sun is wanting
and the journey long
Swirls of smoke from a chimney
and my breath
call me back to the fireside
to wait
another step forward
another day closer
to spring
Collateral Damage
I knew a man
Once.
Forever ago
He seemed to be
what he was not
Denied his truth,
at least to me
I know now
Killing time –
late night prayers
tears
wishes and whispers
When I would not
could not
hear.
To reclaim his old life
The Pinnacle
I, collateral damage.
“Good enough”
Isn’t good enough
when you’re
selfishly
holding out hope.
Hope knocked
Right or wrong
Truth never spoken
Fleeting “I’m sorry”
Then silence
