Happy Poetry Friday!
Today I am feeling too drifty and loose-endsy to take the time to link up with the other contributors. I'm having my own private poetry event here in a quiet corner of my blog. Sometimes introvert half-bloods have to have a little space.
I'm craving music in my life. I miss my high school days with the endless radio background soundtrack, listening to our favorites with the windows open and the dashboard buzzing with bass reverb. I love the rippling, cathartic, tumble of perfectly reciting lyrics and vocal twitches and guitar solos in unison with my favorite artists at top volume. I love the way certain songs make me feel and I love the way certain feelings are mirrored up in front of me in a heart-squeezing, soaring chorus line. Time to burn some cds.
I listen to Spotify and Pandora but my oh-so-portable little iPhone doesn't bloom out in lush volume quite like a regular set of speakers. So, I bought myself a cheap cherry-red cd player for the kitchen and now, I'm going to burn myself a row of mix cds to pop in during dishwasher loading time. My boys are gonna learn We Will Rock You like all good red blooded Americans. Come to think of it, this might be the way to light a fire of energy under my new everyone-helps-clear-the-dinner-table rule! Nice.
I am using my cd project as an excuse to also clear up the teetering piles of old audio cds sitting all over the office desk that I keep hoping will magically go away. Rip time. And then Goodwill will get a gigantic musical present! Freedom is good.
Outmoded
Spending quiet softly while
The pewter sky smears past
The giant oak sleeping outside
My window.
Tearing songs from mirrored,
Mermaid scales that I decoupage
To a giant cloud blooming into
My collage.
Teetering stacks of crystal
Sail out the door smoothly,
Winking blessings as they leave
My margin.
Today I am feeling too drifty and loose-endsy to take the time to link up with the other contributors. I'm having my own private poetry event here in a quiet corner of my blog. Sometimes introvert half-bloods have to have a little space.
I'm craving music in my life. I miss my high school days with the endless radio background soundtrack, listening to our favorites with the windows open and the dashboard buzzing with bass reverb. I love the rippling, cathartic, tumble of perfectly reciting lyrics and vocal twitches and guitar solos in unison with my favorite artists at top volume. I love the way certain songs make me feel and I love the way certain feelings are mirrored up in front of me in a heart-squeezing, soaring chorus line. Time to burn some cds.
I listen to Spotify and Pandora but my oh-so-portable little iPhone doesn't bloom out in lush volume quite like a regular set of speakers. So, I bought myself a cheap cherry-red cd player for the kitchen and now, I'm going to burn myself a row of mix cds to pop in during dishwasher loading time. My boys are gonna learn We Will Rock You like all good red blooded Americans. Come to think of it, this might be the way to light a fire of energy under my new everyone-helps-clear-the-dinner-table rule! Nice.
I am using my cd project as an excuse to also clear up the teetering piles of old audio cds sitting all over the office desk that I keep hoping will magically go away. Rip time. And then Goodwill will get a gigantic musical present! Freedom is good.
Outmoded
Spending quiet softly while
The pewter sky smears past
The giant oak sleeping outside
My window.
Tearing songs from mirrored,
Mermaid scales that I decoupage
To a giant cloud blooming into
My collage.
Teetering stacks of crystal
Sail out the door smoothly,
Winking blessings as they leave
My margin.
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