music in me
I seem to be a-rambling lately, entries as high as an elephant's eye, higher and higher like the moody blue sky, farther in time as the dark side of the moon, mind wants to fly and I don't even know the tune... maybe it's the whippoorwills singing in the dark, or it could be the Joshua tree home to a jay and lark, the left side or the right side can be different or the same, when the great awakening comes it will need no name... sing a song of yesterday when we all dreamed of peace, sing a song of far away where passion was released, sing a song of hope today and love may be the way, we can save ourselves from hells we build out of clay...
stories that begin with the words once upon a time are sentimental favorites even if they don't write, but metaphors and similes and other tricks of sound can be more fun than old songs even when they're sung in round... ice cream ponies rise into the moonlit night, dreams a-riding lightly barely drifting out of sight, words a-playing silly whispers tickling my mind, blessed beasts and children salute you for being kind...
I once knew the meaning of romance, I was a child unaware that freedom was a trap laid for the wild, paper mache statues honor the heart's fallen dead, in tears drown, in fears fall, it's all in your head...
suddenly the rhythm changes softening the sound and picking up the beat... something in a salsa style on a merry-go-round carnival in heat... underneath your clothes you feel the moisture giving the best of your heart away... dreaming of the summer nights we first heard the music of our bodies play... oh you know you want it to feel good, let go of the thoughts that keep you down, oh you know you don't ask if you should, everybody laughs at the weird clown, but everybody swoons at the lover who opens his heart to let you discover how you play a part in intimate dances when you take your chances on leaving the trance to live la salsa romance...
and she says smoke me in the boys room... put away your cloak of doom and gloom, smoke me in the boys room, lay yourself upon me tonight... the light gave glow to her dancing feet... the air fill with the scent of her, so sweet... the night exploded with love as you came inside... when all the walls come down there's nowhere to hide... and she says smoke me in the boys room... you know how to take me up to zoom, smoke me in the boys room, feel the power, you've got the right...
bits and pieces of the music that is flowing through me... sometimes it's a fairy tale song or a fantasy... sometimes it's the rhythm of the street or a primal instinct scream... sometimes it's the sensual caress of two bodies sharing cream... maybe coffee and cream, maybe even ice cream, but you know what I mean... living the whole spectrum of life is the only way I've ever been... from the first moments I can remember I could feel everything... and I was condemned for what I knew so I learned how to sing secretly quietly subtly maybe sweetly alone... living like this leads to bliss, but also leaves me on my own... ooo, oooo, oooo, can't you hear me moan, don't want to groan but baby, oooo, oooo, oooo, I'm on my own, why don't we own up baby, ooo, ooo, ooo, I'm all alone, don't wanna be wanna be wanna be wanna be, ooo, ooo, ooo, don't wanna be alone...
when you wake up with your eyes all red
and you're all alone in your small bed
and you realize this has been going on for years
you wonder what happened to all the love
that you spent your whole life dreaming of
it's so easy to find yourself covered in fears
will it ever end, will you find a friend
will you become just another one who pretends
drowning your sorrows in wine or more or beers
that's when you must remember what's true
you choose most of what happens to you
you can cry yourself to sleep or open your eyes
and see rainbows through your tears
when you wake up with your eyes all red
and you're alone in your small bed
it may not be as sorrowful or hopeless as it appears
you know you must remember what's true
you choose most of what happens to you
you can cry yourself to sleep or open your eyes
and see rainbows through your tears
cry yourself to sleep or see rainbows through your tears
why I formatted that when the rhymes have been flowing through the prose, who knows, but it seemed it was time to highlight the rhyme and refine the meter, to play with the time, create rhythms that sing to the soul or just inspire laughter or even grate on the nerves to get a reaction, irritation, satisfaction, I can get no, can you, tell me what you think is true and I'll know what to do...
good night all around, though spacey day... hours, five of them, to get the work done I usually do in fifteen minutes... explaining over and over, asked the same questions again and again, every step painstakingly repeated and corrected and repeated and corrected and repeated... over and over and over... that's how it is when they give you someone who has maybe 5% of the prerequisite skills for the job simply because they are trying to save money and not hire someone new... so I went in a half hour early and I stayed an extra hour and a half to formulate and type out detailed step by step instructions for as many tasks as I could and I'll do more Monday and hope and we'll see if Monday is any better...
the good news is they approved my purchase orders without question so I'll have all the supplies I wanted for the new office when the move finally happens... for now I sit in a corner with a laptop and a small rolling table as a desk and that's my office... it's being noticed though... no one can complain anymore as they see me doing my best to get some work done, especially when I email whoever is around and ask them to print the report I sent them since I am not hooked up to a printer... the other Directors effected by this move are no longer asking me when I will be ready, they are now aiming their queries at the maintenance people... one's been out for two weeks (he got sick a week before his vacation) so they've been short handed and so the new offices have not been put together... so the move that can only happen on Mondays may or may not happen on this Monday... one day at a time at my little corner rolling office (we all get a laugh out of the situation and I shrug and say "just let me know when you want me to get back to work" with a grin...
they haven't approved my upgraded computer system yet because the IT girl still has not located the Dell sales rep... and next month when IO let them know the reports will be late and no new innovations or extra special reports will be coming without a decent computer, we shall see if they try to suggest I did not warn them almost daily that the computer situation was preventing me from providing them with maximum efficiency and the best product I can produce...
anyway, I even forgot to pick up salad for dinner, so leaving work late I called Precious to see if she was hiding out in her room and sure enough, she was... so I took her out to dinner and then we hung out at Barney's & Noble (you know, since they added the whole coffee café thing) until it closed... getting into the books... Stephen King has three or four books out that I have not read, amazing, aye?... Precious somehow bought a Terry Brooks book without any money and if I didn't find myself at the register paying for it, that would have been amazing too... we found a good new inexpensive neighborhood Italian restaurant (not a chain, yay) about fifteen minutes away in one of the newest major suburban community (Avalon Park, in case you're in town)... it's about as far off the beaten path as anyplace can be for now and still be considered Orlando... a bar and grill, Italian restaurant, and bakery all in three interconnected rooms (though the bakery is not finished yet and that may be why the bread sucked, but the food was very good)...
and now we sit here listening to Heresie by Virgin Prunes... yeah, the one with all the primal screams... not that I'd expect anyone to know this sordid musical past I am wandering through... this is taking me back to 1993 and Dawn who, you may or may not recall, opened my eyes and broke my heart cuz guess what... I gave her the power... met her through the written word too, all the way from Santa Fe she drove to fall in love (or at least lust) and live with me (the farthest came from Alaska, but that's anothertragedy story that taught me to clarify my open door policy)... magical months leaving NYC behind and waking up the body, living as a Vegan and appreciating the challenge and the experience (I was already a vegetarian at the time)...
I miss The Waterboys most from that period... after she left I was way too awake to stay home running around the neighborhood each night so I started the dancing fool stage and could be found out every night playing pool until almost midnight and then stepping into the music and out on to the dance floor, moving rather wildly well past dawn (ironic, huh?) and sometimes past noon... those were some blissful mindless marathons of movement and music and the occasional bumping, grinding, and dance floor sex...
whatever happened to that nice rhyming pattern that started this entry, anyway?... ah, you must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh... sigh... so as the Virgin Prunes take me Down The Memory Lane and through a Pagan Love Song when I was still sending out the Come To Daddy message to all ships at sea, I wrap up this Rhetoric from the Man on the Corner with this one last Theme For Thought... the Walls of Jericho are as bound to come down as any walls for walls, at least in this physical world, can not be permanent... even the greatest mountain ranges eventually erode down to rolling hills... that is what time in this physical world does to everything, so jump in the pool and stop worrying about whether your bathing suits shows too much ass or belly or cleavage...
just get out there and dance...
this public service message has been brought to you by the letter D, the number 23, and the random factor that plays such an influencial roll in the brain inside the head on top of this body I somewhat haphazardly consider mine for the moment, on loan from the Museum of Amsterdam via Iceland, which is why I've come to Florida to melt...
these are getting closer to the kind of rambles btc was once known for... I just renewed the 2 year supergold over at diaryland, so I suppose I'll be back over there eventually... in case you wondered or wanted to help in some way... and I am not talking about sexual healing, in spite of what the rhymes may have eluded to just before we switched channels (which often happens when changing formats... deceptively clever, no doubt... well, one of us is...
I'll leave it for you to decipher and play with... meanwhile, speaking of nostalgia, I'm switching music to Alexa Ray Joel... I remember when she was born... the girl has a distinctly style I seriously enjoy... words with serious meaning for me, articulated clearing, melding with a fusion of rock-pop-blues-jazz, truth, and fun... I wonder what happened to the ones who can create something new... something true... something great!... and on this wonderful note, I bid you a fine night... infinitely :)
stories that begin with the words once upon a time are sentimental favorites even if they don't write, but metaphors and similes and other tricks of sound can be more fun than old songs even when they're sung in round... ice cream ponies rise into the moonlit night, dreams a-riding lightly barely drifting out of sight, words a-playing silly whispers tickling my mind, blessed beasts and children salute you for being kind...
I once knew the meaning of romance, I was a child unaware that freedom was a trap laid for the wild, paper mache statues honor the heart's fallen dead, in tears drown, in fears fall, it's all in your head...
suddenly the rhythm changes softening the sound and picking up the beat... something in a salsa style on a merry-go-round carnival in heat... underneath your clothes you feel the moisture giving the best of your heart away... dreaming of the summer nights we first heard the music of our bodies play... oh you know you want it to feel good, let go of the thoughts that keep you down, oh you know you don't ask if you should, everybody laughs at the weird clown, but everybody swoons at the lover who opens his heart to let you discover how you play a part in intimate dances when you take your chances on leaving the trance to live la salsa romance...
and she says smoke me in the boys room... put away your cloak of doom and gloom, smoke me in the boys room, lay yourself upon me tonight... the light gave glow to her dancing feet... the air fill with the scent of her, so sweet... the night exploded with love as you came inside... when all the walls come down there's nowhere to hide... and she says smoke me in the boys room... you know how to take me up to zoom, smoke me in the boys room, feel the power, you've got the right...
bits and pieces of the music that is flowing through me... sometimes it's a fairy tale song or a fantasy... sometimes it's the rhythm of the street or a primal instinct scream... sometimes it's the sensual caress of two bodies sharing cream... maybe coffee and cream, maybe even ice cream, but you know what I mean... living the whole spectrum of life is the only way I've ever been... from the first moments I can remember I could feel everything... and I was condemned for what I knew so I learned how to sing secretly quietly subtly maybe sweetly alone... living like this leads to bliss, but also leaves me on my own... ooo, oooo, oooo, can't you hear me moan, don't want to groan but baby, oooo, oooo, oooo, I'm on my own, why don't we own up baby, ooo, ooo, ooo, I'm all alone, don't wanna be wanna be wanna be wanna be, ooo, ooo, ooo, don't wanna be alone...
when you wake up with your eyes all red
and you're all alone in your small bed
and you realize this has been going on for years
you wonder what happened to all the love
that you spent your whole life dreaming of
it's so easy to find yourself covered in fears
will it ever end, will you find a friend
will you become just another one who pretends
drowning your sorrows in wine or more or beers
that's when you must remember what's true
you choose most of what happens to you
you can cry yourself to sleep or open your eyes
and see rainbows through your tears
when you wake up with your eyes all red
and you're alone in your small bed
it may not be as sorrowful or hopeless as it appears
you know you must remember what's true
you choose most of what happens to you
you can cry yourself to sleep or open your eyes
and see rainbows through your tears
cry yourself to sleep or see rainbows through your tears
why I formatted that when the rhymes have been flowing through the prose, who knows, but it seemed it was time to highlight the rhyme and refine the meter, to play with the time, create rhythms that sing to the soul or just inspire laughter or even grate on the nerves to get a reaction, irritation, satisfaction, I can get no, can you, tell me what you think is true and I'll know what to do...
good night all around, though spacey day... hours, five of them, to get the work done I usually do in fifteen minutes... explaining over and over, asked the same questions again and again, every step painstakingly repeated and corrected and repeated and corrected and repeated... over and over and over... that's how it is when they give you someone who has maybe 5% of the prerequisite skills for the job simply because they are trying to save money and not hire someone new... so I went in a half hour early and I stayed an extra hour and a half to formulate and type out detailed step by step instructions for as many tasks as I could and I'll do more Monday and hope and we'll see if Monday is any better...
the good news is they approved my purchase orders without question so I'll have all the supplies I wanted for the new office when the move finally happens... for now I sit in a corner with a laptop and a small rolling table as a desk and that's my office... it's being noticed though... no one can complain anymore as they see me doing my best to get some work done, especially when I email whoever is around and ask them to print the report I sent them since I am not hooked up to a printer... the other Directors effected by this move are no longer asking me when I will be ready, they are now aiming their queries at the maintenance people... one's been out for two weeks (he got sick a week before his vacation) so they've been short handed and so the new offices have not been put together... so the move that can only happen on Mondays may or may not happen on this Monday... one day at a time at my little corner rolling office (we all get a laugh out of the situation and I shrug and say "just let me know when you want me to get back to work" with a grin...
they haven't approved my upgraded computer system yet because the IT girl still has not located the Dell sales rep... and next month when IO let them know the reports will be late and no new innovations or extra special reports will be coming without a decent computer, we shall see if they try to suggest I did not warn them almost daily that the computer situation was preventing me from providing them with maximum efficiency and the best product I can produce...
anyway, I even forgot to pick up salad for dinner, so leaving work late I called Precious to see if she was hiding out in her room and sure enough, she was... so I took her out to dinner and then we hung out at Barney's & Noble (you know, since they added the whole coffee café thing) until it closed... getting into the books... Stephen King has three or four books out that I have not read, amazing, aye?... Precious somehow bought a Terry Brooks book without any money and if I didn't find myself at the register paying for it, that would have been amazing too... we found a good new inexpensive neighborhood Italian restaurant (not a chain, yay) about fifteen minutes away in one of the newest major suburban community (Avalon Park, in case you're in town)... it's about as far off the beaten path as anyplace can be for now and still be considered Orlando... a bar and grill, Italian restaurant, and bakery all in three interconnected rooms (though the bakery is not finished yet and that may be why the bread sucked, but the food was very good)...
and now we sit here listening to Heresie by Virgin Prunes... yeah, the one with all the primal screams... not that I'd expect anyone to know this sordid musical past I am wandering through... this is taking me back to 1993 and Dawn who, you may or may not recall, opened my eyes and broke my heart cuz guess what... I gave her the power... met her through the written word too, all the way from Santa Fe she drove to fall in love (or at least lust) and live with me (the farthest came from Alaska, but that's another
I miss The Waterboys most from that period... after she left I was way too awake to stay home running around the neighborhood each night so I started the dancing fool stage and could be found out every night playing pool until almost midnight and then stepping into the music and out on to the dance floor, moving rather wildly well past dawn (ironic, huh?) and sometimes past noon... those were some blissful mindless marathons of movement and music and the occasional bumping, grinding, and dance floor sex...
whatever happened to that nice rhyming pattern that started this entry, anyway?... ah, you must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh... sigh... so as the Virgin Prunes take me Down The Memory Lane and through a Pagan Love Song when I was still sending out the Come To Daddy message to all ships at sea, I wrap up this Rhetoric from the Man on the Corner with this one last Theme For Thought... the Walls of Jericho are as bound to come down as any walls for walls, at least in this physical world, can not be permanent... even the greatest mountain ranges eventually erode down to rolling hills... that is what time in this physical world does to everything, so jump in the pool and stop worrying about whether your bathing suits shows too much ass or belly or cleavage...
just get out there and dance...
this public service message has been brought to you by the letter D, the number 23, and the random factor that plays such an influencial roll in the brain inside the head on top of this body I somewhat haphazardly consider mine for the moment, on loan from the Museum of Amsterdam via Iceland, which is why I've come to Florida to melt...
these are getting closer to the kind of rambles btc was once known for... I just renewed the 2 year supergold over at diaryland, so I suppose I'll be back over there eventually... in case you wondered or wanted to help in some way... and I am not talking about sexual healing, in spite of what the rhymes may have eluded to just before we switched channels (which often happens when changing formats... deceptively clever, no doubt... well, one of us is...
I'll leave it for you to decipher and play with... meanwhile, speaking of nostalgia, I'm switching music to Alexa Ray Joel... I remember when she was born... the girl has a distinctly style I seriously enjoy... words with serious meaning for me, articulated clearing, melding with a fusion of rock-pop-blues-jazz, truth, and fun... I wonder what happened to the ones who can create something new... something true... something great!... and on this wonderful note, I bid you a fine night... infinitely :)
Labels: corporate bull, emo, food, heart, hope, inspirations, joy, lam, life, local, loneliness, love, memories, mtmm, music, sexuality, singing, smile, work, yay
posted by candoor at 11:36 PM
3 Comments:
While I was engaged in my Saturday-apartment-cleaning this morning, I could not get that song Reptile by The Church out of my head. The Waterboys were around back then too - and I associate the two. I loved/love those bands.
Its funny how music can transport us, like the scent of things can, or sometimes just feeling overcome by a memory that seems to be happening all over again - sensory-wise.
I don't feel like I'm making any sense. I think I have been on the computer way too much lately. Could be time for another break... I hope you are enjoying your weekend. :)
drat, darned, doo doo.... I just was in the middle of a nice rambling response to your comment and the computer crashes, froze, and there was no recovering the words... bummer... I probably shouldn't have asked you to move down here and marry me in a comment response, huh?...
just kidding, I only asked you to visit (I've often been told that my irreverence could get me in big trouble someday when I meet up with someone who reacts before finding out my sense of humor is kinda absurd sometimes, but I just smile at those nice people warning me and say, already has... so far I've survived :)
back to mostly serious... so I impulsively picked up the phone and called you hoping the ideas would pop out in auditory words if you picked up, but you didn't so I left a message and here we are again... now what was I saying?...
first, the music... definitely agree... I don't know The Church as well as I know The Waterboys... I should give them a listen...
I think it is healthy to spend some time introspecting and sorting through memories and experiences, kind of like picking up scattered pages and filing them away where they belong, whether that is prominently displayed on the wall or buried and marked only by a small memorial that reminds us not to trip over or fall into that place again...
for me, that process is not complete until I share it with a friend who is trusted enough to be a mirror and advisor as I put the past in the past and bring the present into the present cuz sharing makes everything more real... it takes someone with very compatible sensitivities and presepectives to become such a trusted friend and I am hoping such a friend shows up one of these days... hope you find one too...
I think you're making a lot of sense, but maybe you just need eye contact reassurance at this point (I think this was about the time I suggested, mostly irreverently, that you come down here and share some eye contact... I said it much more irreverently and cleverly, I think... so much for failed attempts at humor, aye?)... I probably should have called earlier and interrupted your cleaning :)
I just realized that the song that was on while I was leaving the message was Gavin Friday's He Got What He Wanted which could be a song that just might be one of those flashback moments (it has been for me, that's for sure)... Gavin is probably the most grating of the cathartic helpers I use to rake through emotional experiences, clean wounds, find acceptance, forgive, and move on... some find him, like Harry Chapin, just depressing... I enjoy the challenge :)
anyway, this is sort of the comment that was eaten by the internet gremlins and I hope you find it somewhere along the way... thanks for finding this entry and leaving some words here... hope you enjoy your weekend :)
Hey! I'm sorry we didn't connect ...again. My phone is actually sitting on my desk at work. I flew out of the office so quickly on Friday, I left it right underneath my computer monitor. I'm sure the battery is completely dead at this point.
Anyway, even if I had had it with me, I am now a gramma when it comes to going to bed by 11pm. Even on weekends, if there's nothing going on. And when I go to bed, the phone goes on the charger... Ah well, we'll touch base at some point. Thanks for trying, though.
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