Lyrics of my life #2

“But perhaps the dream
Is dreaming us
Soaring with the seagulls
Perhaps the dream
Is dreaming us
Astride the backs of eagles”

When the angels fall -Sting

If I had a dollar for every time I listened to the album The Soul Cages by Sting, I would be rich indeed. I’ve always been moved by tragic/melancholy/tear your heart out by its roots music but it charges me up in a way, gets the creative juices flowing so to speak and for that, I will keep on listening to what inspires. I watched as it won for album of the year and  at the time wasn’t even familiar with it or any of its songs, but if it won, it must have been good so I trekked down to the local music store and bought it. Never regretted that decision and it’s still a main staple to this day. I chose the image because as a new college student, I found the best writing I did was when spending time amongst the ghosts of the dead in cemeteries. I remember having my headphones on one particular sunny spring day, my black mohawk falling over my eyes as I concocted stories for a class about a boy named Alec. I was listening to Barbara Streisand singing how there was a place for us (Somewhere?) and the instruments building in sound as the cicadas hummed filled my heart with such a joy. I knew at that point that this was what I wanted to do, this is what filled me, writing in peace with a passion. I only wish this album had been out then…but then again, I could be working in a shipyard building boats instead. I didn’t use Barbara  here….no judgements needed…all music is good 🙂 Peace and love my friends, welcome to my world of what inspires.

A spark of memory (pretzel logic)

Funny how it goes
A word
A phrase
Brings a spark of a memory
Long forgotten.
A song sends my mind into yesterday
Large places of bright lights
A child holding his hand
Money exchanged for warm curled dough
Two cups of liquid
Mustard and cheese to accompany
The white salt crusted delicacy.
image
Scent of yeast rise to my nose
As my hand warm from paper wrappers
And I follow him, piece by piece ripped
And dipped
Into one or the other
And the yellow dripping from his chin
As he chews slowly
Savoring each bite.
I try the one,
Yuck, not a fan of spice,
As the bite slides down my throat with a burn
And my eyes grow wide
To realize
Nope, mustard is not the flavor for me.
But hot cheese mellow
Oozing and gooey orange
I break into a grin with the delight
Wonder abound at this new treat found.
He’s been gone many years now
But I recall the shining glasses he wore
Reflections of a hundred lights above
As I looked up at him with a smile
And we listened to Kodachrome
Riding in his car as we zoomed into the day
Bellies filled with my first pretzel
So hot and soft
Like these memories that roam through
Leaving me a gentle laugh
And a pang of sadness for the child that was
And longing for days spent making memories
Living the everyday simplicity
Of a day spent trying something new
Just one spark
A lyric to wish me back
To yesterday.
image

After reading Nehas lyric from the sound of music this morning my mind took a turn to a memory of when I was a young girl and my Uncle Chuck upon finding out I had never tried a hot pretzel, proceeded to make a u turn and pulled into a mall in Rochester and bought me one. Maybe it’s the Bavarian thing or just a skip down memory lane but it leaves me wishing for a day off to go to the mall and just sit and people watch while eating a hot pretzel with hot gooey cheese.

Stars of slumber

Night shades opened
Sliver of space
To let in just enough
Vision to dream by.
Not moving through the hours
Muscles and bones still
Breathing deep
Unaware.
The mind moves through
The essence of universe
Stars everywhere
All mine yet shared.
Floating alone out there
Song fills my mind
Rocket man plays off somewhere
Only in my head.
I awake to peace
Wandering out in the cool dark air
Looking up I see my dream
Everywhere above me.
The theater of thoughts
Live action star falling
I stop and smile
And think of a day perfect,
Here and now.

Photo,by: http://marinapetro.blogspot.com/2009/06/starlight-by-marina-petro.html