Category Archives: Poetry

Trouble

21 Thursday Mar 2019

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I write about this theme a lot when doing lyrics, and you’d think I’d do something to change it and find another heartache, but when your problem is stagnation, it’s by definition difficult to change.

There’s a similar verse rhythm to Miranda Lambert’s “All Kinds of Kinds,” so I keep hearing it country, but I would rather do it more singer-songwriter.

TROUBLE

The world is full of metaphors
Like butterflies and open doors
But I never liked any of them anyway
I’m always running on back home
I lock all the doors and stay in alone
And every day’s like every other day.

My reflection’s always changing
While I’m busy rearranging
My life so that it’ll never change again
But mirrors crack and colors fade
With risks untaken, turns unmade
So things end up just like they’ve always been.

Things don’t get better when you’re staying the same
You don’t get to win if you don’t play the game.

Chorus:
I never go looking for
Trouble, trouble, trouble
So it never finds me
Trouble, trouble, trouble
And it reminds me
Trouble, trouble, trouble
Is meant to shine me
Like fire to gold
And oil on leather
Trouble, trouble, trouble
I always stay out of
Trouble, trouble, trouble
Ain’t got no way out of
Trouble, trouble, trouble
Helps you to grow out
And all that makes me wonder whether
If I’m not looking for any trouble
That’s the trouble that I’ve found.

The world is full of dead cocoons
And roses that refuse to bloom
And I guess that I am just another one
And sure, that means I feel no pain
No heart to break, no man to blame
Don’t have to pitch my worth to anyone.

But life was always made to live
And a frozen soul can never give
And all too soon the future’s in the past.
You can always go back home again
But when sand’s poured out, it can’t go back in
Don’t fight for first, you’ll always finish last.

Things don’t get better when you’re staying the same
You don’t get to win if you don’t play the game.

Chorus:
I never go looking for
Trouble, trouble, trouble
So it never finds me
Trouble, trouble, trouble
And it reminds me
Trouble, trouble, trouble
Is meant to shine me
Like fire to gold
And oil on leather
Trouble, trouble, trouble
I always stay out of
Trouble, trouble, trouble
Ain’t got no way out of
Trouble, trouble, trouble
Helps you to grow out
And all that makes me wonder whether
If I’m not looking for any trouble
That’s the trouble that I’ve found.

 

House of Windows

22 Friday Feb 2019

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Because I’m between major writing projects (transcription isn’t a major project), I was finally able to start THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE on Netflix. No spoilers, please, but I think it’s amazing. Episodic horror doesn’t always deliver – I think it’s a pacing thing, and in the case of what I’ve seen on AHS and other Ryan Murphy shows, a matter of being too clever to be scary.

Anyway, it seems like a good time to share my haunted house song I wrote last month, which totally has a Shirley Jackson vibe to it.

HOUSE OF WINDOWS

It’s a whole wide world out there
A fine, varied, full-bodied thoroughfare
Hundreds of thousands breathe the same air
Footsteps thunder over same streets, same stairs.

The house is gated, silent, and still
Its statues, a marble gleam atop the shadowed hill
They peer from stone eyes, listen with stone ears
Let all with eyes see, let all with ears hear.

Chorus:
The house has many windows
Curtains trembling with ghosts
Moths have made away with all the clothes
The dead inside don’t sleep but doze
It’s a house with many windows
But the windows are closed.

Statues at the gate, statues in the rooms
Inhale stale air, filter in the gloom
Every creaking floorboard, memory of previous doom
A house of many windows, a house of many tombs.

Visitors come to view the walls in awe
Priceless paintings behind drapes only the dead get to draw
Guests all leave unsure how to say what they saw
Any moment a knock on the door, any moment a monkey’s paw.

Chorus

In the deep dark garden, the roses have died
Whatever the tenants tell you, the dead likely lie
From skylights come the gray of stormier skies
A house of many windows, a house of many eyes.

Let all who wish to join us enter in
Remember all your failures, remember all your sins
Death chills the halls, creeps under your skin
The house offers rest, yet restlessness within.

Bridge:
Is life just waiting for death? Is that how it goes?
Am I a house, or am I already a ghost?

Chorus

 

All Thumbs

07 Thursday Feb 2019

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I haven’t had enough mental space to write many lyrics this year, so I’ll mine from last month, my first attempt at a full-on synth pop song. It’s probably hard to hear the beat in the chorus, but have fun figuring it out. Took me multiple tries to find just the right beat.

Now it’s a freaking ear worm.

ALL THUMBS

A mysterious magician
Of cool disposition
With sleight of hand
A skillful woman on a mission
Fools every crowd
No answers allowed
I disappear
And no one can see through the cloud

But you slip through a trapdoor
Looking like do you and therefore
With your smile
See my hands
When you walk in the room

I’m all thumbs da-dum-dum dum-da-da-dum-dum dum-da-dum-dum
I’m all thumbs da-dum-dum dum-da-da-dum-dum dum-da-dum-dum
I’m all…

Prodigy extraordinaire
On piano keys like Fred Astaire
Fingers flying
Every note floating on air
A standing ovation
Such imagination
What can’t she do?
My music, the sweetest sensation

But then you play your own song
I can only follow along
With your smile
See my hands
When you walk in the room

I’m all thumbs da-dum-dum dum-da-da-dum-dum dum-da-dum-dum
I’m all thumbs da-dum-dum dum-da-da-dum-dum dum-da-dum-dum
I’m all…

I’m a stumbling
Tumbling
Fumbling mess
Don’t know who I am
Don’t know my address
Can’t get control of myself
No more or no less

With that smile
See these hands
When you walk in the room

I’m all thumbs da-dum-dum dum-da-da-dum-dum dum-da-dum-dum
I’m all thumbs da-dum-dum dum-da-da-dum-dum dum-da-dum-dum
I’m all thumbs.

A Night Witch’s Eve

24 Monday Dec 2018

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I’m actually quite happy with this one. I don’t do simple very well (all of you know I’m a wordy mf’er), but when it happens, I’m pleased with how clean it can be.

The musical style should be somewhat close to “Silent Night,” but with more of a minor key, and actually meant for a soprano sound, the classical diva you might sometimes have in a symphonic metal song. Merry Christmas Eve, all!

A NIGHT WITCH’S EVE

Silent night
Silent cold
Everyone’s sleeping
The season grows old

Silent night
Silent snow
Concealing the traces
Where night witches go

Silent night
Silent dreams
Awake and aware
Through sobs and through screams

The midnight is anything but holy
Magic pierces the sky too bright and too boldly

Silent night
Silent sighs
We place silver coins
In everyone’s eyes

Silent night
Silent snow
Concealing the traces
Where night witches go

A Merry Texas Christmas

21 Friday Dec 2018

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I wanted to share this earlier in the week, but in addition to being busy, the darn song just wasn’t ready. There was a whole verse that had a rhyme scheme that didn’t match the rest, so I needed to play around with it. I don’t need finished products when sharing lyrics I’ve written, but I like it to feel like it could be finished.

As you might imagine, “A Merry Texas Christmas” should have a bit of a country twang, but not too much, because not all of us have a strong accent. I do only some of the time, and it’s usually a choice rather than my default. Although ‘y’all’ is kind of a given.

A MERRY TEXAS CHRISTMAS

I can count on one hand having snow on Christmas.
Even being cold is a coin toss to lose
If I’m not cold and snug Christmas morning
I have to confess, that’s not the Christmas I choose.

Chorus:
They set up the lights before November is gone
Advent wreaths burn candles down into one
Everyone wishes for snow, then wishes for sun
And that’s a Merry Texas Christmas.

Santa wears cowboy boots to deliver our toys.
We drink our hot chocolate then bring out the egg nog
Armadillos and cacti with penguins and wintery joys.
And the Christ candle burns instead of a Yule log.

Tamales and chili, dinner Christmas Eve,
And pecan and pumpkin for Christmas Day pies.
We turn on the fire and crank the A/C
Everyone knows when it’s Christmas, everyone lies.

It’s part of the magic
The magic of Christmas
The magic of a Texas Christmastime, y’all.

Chorus:
Light shows draw crowds into neighborhood streets.
For once the huge churches fill all of their seats.
We pray for our peace and we do our good deeds.
And that’s a Merry Texas Christmas.

We scream Merry Christmas so everyone hears it.
We forget why we do it, like everyone else.
We fight over words and holiday spirit.
But in the end, we do it like nobody else.

I’ve only ever known a Texas State Christmas.
Our star of wonder is often the star on our flag.
For many long years, a Texas State Christmas,
Yet as years have gone by, I often feel sad.

Chorus:
But the lights fill the streets when the evenings are long.
Both radio and churches swell with Christmas-y songs.
Everything’s right even when everything’s wrong.
And that’s a Merry Texas Christmas.

Cats Don’t Care About Christmas

11 Tuesday Dec 2018

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This next song arose from an offhand comment from my dad while I was talking with him last year about not really getting in the spirit of Christmas anymore, yet writing Christmas songs anyway. He followed it up with, “Hey, that would make a great Christmas song, wouldn’t it?” I wrote it in my head all the way home from dinner that night.

It’s silly af, but cat lovers should have some fun with it.

CATS DON’T CARE ABOUT CHRISTMAS

Cats don’t care about Christmas
They yowl and meow asking where their food is
They don’t know what time of year it is
Oh, cats don’t care about Christmas.

They sleep in our mangers and hang in our stockings
They don’t want the presents, they just want the boxes
They bat at the ornaments and chew on our bows
And why they kill Christmas trees, nobody knows.

Cats don’t care about Christmas
They hide and decide that they don’t need us
They hate and tolerate the costumes and kisses
Oh, cats don’t care about Christmas.

They throw up on tree skirts and pee in the guest rooms
They run for no reason from bedroom to bedroom
They climb onto our laps when we’re warm and we’re lazy
But while we try to make everything perfect, they’re crazy.

They shake off the jingle bells and won’t pose for pictures
They won’t pay attention to stories or scriptures
We hide all the tinsel. We can’t keep poinsettias.
We want so much to love them, and sometimes they let us.

Cats don’t care about Christmas
They purr and prowl, kill us with false sweetness
Pretend they’re the angel atop the tree to deceive us
Oh, cats don’t care about Christmas.

Missing Christmas

04 Tuesday Dec 2018

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I don’t have seasonal affective disorder. I actually experience the reverse, my mood becoming measurably better when it’s darker and colder outside and worse when it gets warm and bright.

But something happens to Christmas as you grow up, and it’s something that made the holidays difficult for roughly the last ten years. Both the spiritual and the secular sides suffered. In fact, it’s only just this year that I kind of got back into the spirit. I put up most of the Christmas decorations at home. At work, I’m decorating my cubicle in a Nightmare Before Christmas theme, which was a spontaneous decision that I’m really enjoying. I’m a Halloween-all-year kind of girl, so it fits my personality.

Christmas music is the one thing that’s been a constant through the ennui. With music on my mind, I wrote down a lot of these feelings about Christmas that people just don’t seem to talk about, especially when it comes to singletons and people who aren’t churchgoers. Sure, sometimes I feel like the Grinch (don’t most of us grow up into the Grinch?), but really, I’m more sad than angry. However, I think letting go of what Christmas used to be has helped me enjoy it in my new ways.

MISSING CHRISTMAS

As a child, I saw Santa through the open bedroom door
Sick with excitement at what morning had in store
I saw in him in the darkness, which fueled my belief
Of magical reindeer who come when you sleep

Half-eaten carrots and hoofprints on snow
Once you spot the lies they only start to grow
When magic becomes just another sleight of hand
One starts to wonder where Christmas should stand

The stories repeat so often, I know them by heart.
Growing up without children, I’ve no longer a part
Meaningless, meaning less every year
And now Christmas seems like every other part of the year, I fear…

The moment I stopped looking for Christmas
Was the same time the magic died
Its epitaph written in my attic-lost tree
I mourn for the death of a magical time

I love buying gifts for my family and friends
Receiving doesn’t matter much after it ends
The truth is I lost Christmas a long time ago.
I’ve struggled to find it again, but I know…

That feasts, friends, and families simply don’t
Make the time any more magical, the season just won’t
Reach as far inside of me as it did once before
When magic and miracles brought hope to my door

Half-eaten carrots and hoofprints on snow
Once you spot the lies they only start to grow
When magic becomes just another sleight of hand
One starts to wonder where Christmas should stand.

A ‘Christmas’ Song

27 Tuesday Nov 2018

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Last December, I thoroughly amused myself by writing Christmas songs, my first forays into lyric-writing and the inspiration behind this year’s push. Some of them are funny, some of them are sad, some more atmospheric than substantive.

Or in the case of “A ‘Christmas’ Song,” thoroughly ironic.

A ‘CHRISTMAS’ SONG

This is a Christmas song.
You can tell because of the word ‘Christmas’
I could avoid the word the whole song long
As long as I use the word ‘Christmas’ just once
As long as I use the word ‘Christmas’ just once

Even if I didn’t say ‘Christmas’ once
Radios would find a way to still play
A Christmas song, as long as winter is mentioned
So I pander to the Christmas pandemonium
And write a new Christmas song
And write a new Christmas song

These days, do I even mention winter at all
When all I need is a cold dark night and twinkling lights?

Do I bring up the feasts, the families, the weather
Or whether everyone’s going to make it home?
Should I bring up Krampus or Santa Claus,
Bright red noses, or roofs where reindeer pause?

I could bring up Jesus, the reason for the season,
Or axial tilt, the real reason for the season,
Solstice, Saturnalia, pagan trees and wreaths,
Make another Chanukah song. Any other beliefs?

It’s a Christmas song because I say it is.
It’s a Christmas song because I wrote it is.
As long as I use the word ‘Christmas’ just once.
As long as I use the word ‘Christmas’ just once.

 

Voice

18 Sunday Nov 2018

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I pick up a book and read the first lines.
I listen to new music all the time.
And I think, I want to sound like that.
Why can’t my cords vibrate like that?
Why can’t my brain string words like that?
Why can’t I be louder, lovelier, stronger, better, best?
Why am I trapped sounding like this?

I wish I could sound like them, but I can’t.
Because I’m not them.
My voice is my voice,
And imitation only gets so far.
Always pale and weak,
Nowhere near where they are.

My voice is my own.
And maybe someday someone will say,
I wish I could sound like you.
But they can’t.
Because my voice is my own,
And there will never be another one like it.
Like it or not, my voice is my own.

The Rose Less Taken

16 Friday Nov 2018

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I’ve been very busy with NaNoWriMo and the publication of Thorns was delayed, but it looks like it should be a go here within a week at most. I have a collection of Christmas songs that got this whole lyric-writing thing started, but I don’t want to start those until after Thanksgiving.

With Thorns coming out soon, I thought I’d share a song I wrote that was (very loosely) inspired by it. It’s got some themes connected to the series, but it’s not spoilerific, because it’s inspired by rather than based on.

It’s definitely got a darker rock edge to what was originally meant to be a pop sound. I’d put it in a pretty little minor key.

THE ROSE LESS TAKEN

She illuminates the room with crimson blue light
Fills up the spaces in everyone’s sight
For every step she takes, they all walk a mile
Velvet on her lips and thorns in her smile.

She is the eye in the center of the storm
The thickest of hides always gets torn
Making them wonder if she is the one
Love potion on her skin and poison in her tongue.

Chorus:
A rainbow in the gray
A slither out of sight
Woman by day
Temptation by night
I know that I shouldn’t
But I never say no
Wherever she takes me
I know that I’ll go
All she does is smile
And she leaves me broken
I’ll sink in her thorns
She’s the rose less taken.

Heaven knows she sends to me to hell
She was the very last angel who fell
She seems like honey, but you suffer her sting
And worship her for the pain that she brings.

Bridge:
She’s the vampire they cling to
The doll they desire
They pour gasoline
She sets them on fire
I’m only one of the beasts that she tames
She does what she does
And I’m the only one to blame.

Chorus