Author: Pelgris

Country song?

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This is a song I wrote that was based on one I heard in a dream.  It’s intended to be a country song.  We did practice it for several months but never got it right.  The back and forth may be too complicated and may require 2 dedicated singers not playing
instruments.

It is a song about living with the uncertainty of a child that is serving in the armed forces.  And it would not be a song in my repertoire if it weren’t bleak in some measure.  Honestly,  this is the most forlorn song I’ve written to date.

Coming home
Sung as a duet
Male and female

Someone might be coming home (male)
We set out three places at the dining room table cause (duet)
Someone might be coming home (male)
We made too much down home food (female)
Cause someone might be coming home (duet)

Our glances meet across the table (duet)
          someone might be coming home (male)
Our eyes filled with hope tinged sorrow (female)
Cause someone might be coming home (duet)

I mow the lawn (male)
I wash the dishes (female)
(sotto voice)  someone might be coming home(duet)
A car passes by,  our hearts lift up (female)
Someone might be coming home (duet)

(entire section female, sung without hope) Our glances meet across the table
          someone might be coming home
Our eyes filled with hope tinged sorrow
Cause someone might be coming home

(entire section male, sung with deep sorrow) We set out three places at the dining room table cause
Someone might be coming home

(next 2 entire sections, duet) I mow the lawn
I wash the dishes
(sotto voice)  someone might be coming home
A car passes by,  our hearts lift up
Someone might be coming home

It’s been so long since we’ve heard
Someone might be coming home
A knock on the door,  a ring of the bell
Someone might be coming home

A fresh manicured lawn(male)
a warm summer morning (female)
Someone is, (pause)  home (duet)
Someone is forever home. (duet)

City of masks

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Another song for my band

City of masks

To plunge through the past
Into the future

Into the future
They say,  to stay out of the darkness
To walk in the light
For us,  we are not so fortunate
We can’t walk in the bright

Welcome to the City of masks
Watch us twirl
Watch us dance

We are the shadows remembered
The shadows at dawn
We walk out of the morning
On into the night

Welcome to the City of masks
See us twirl
See us dance

We make ourselves from the broken pieces
See our smiles, see our faces

We are,  the lost and forgotten
The walkers in night
For us, we are so fortunate
We won’t walk in the light

Welcome
Welcome to the City of masks
Join our dance

Hugs

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You ever think about what we do on a daily basis.  How much of it is informed by what we see presented as normal.  For instance,  on television,  hugs between men always end with a pat on the back.  The only time you see a full hug is when the man is breaking down,  when the scenario is that he is emotionally overwhelmed.  Is it that this is a case of TV portraying society or is it something else.  Speaking visually,  it is advantageous to have a way to signify emotional turmoil in a way other than crying.  So is it that the hug variations come from a need to show visually what is essentially internal,  or is it a reflection of society.  And if it is a reflection,  which is the original image. 

Promises broken, promises kept

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The pose of impropriety.
The blush giving to knowing smile.
The faint green scent of dying flowers
laying like dew over musk.
A joyous bark of laughter covering
the faint slap of leather to skin,
Eyes a darkness, full of promises
Languid, languishing
Passing by unnoticed.
Pierced like a blade,
Flechette drawing gasps.
A turned head,
Lips, full of knowledge,
For the taking

overshare

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I guess I should know better than to throw my heart in like that. But a promise broken is a betrayal. There are trespasses I will forgive but not that. Which she knew going in. At least I won’t see her every day, avoid the gatherings for a while. Until her face blurs down, until a moan is just a moan and not hers. The heart mends quickly when the wounds allowed to close.

Details

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My mind gets caught up in wierd details.
Generally with people I’m interested in. Sometimes it is something they wear, or how they do their hair. Sometimes a word they misproniunce or the way they see. I say it’s odd because this bit can push me either way. Into loathing or into fascination. A woman in a man’s shirt and tie or anyone with a goth sensibility,. It doesn’t cause me to fall in love or lust, it just makes me pay attention. All images rushing past my eyes, but some lodge deeply. Lips shaded the color of a deep red rose seen in the dying light of sunset. Just something I find odd.

Thinking

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Something I think often, is a simple statement.  something bound up in all kinds of thoughts and ideas.

I say/think: “All realities are one”.

Sometimes I mean that this reality is a part of a continuum of realities in a many worlds idea of quantum behavior.  Sometimes I mean that forces moving seemingly unseen are as much a part of the world as This building or that car is. 

Today,  I mean it in this way:
All Realities are one.  Our lives running in singular paths etching their way lightly or deeply on the pattern of the world. We seen our lives as singular, as the following of one thing after another.  But the real, the truth, is that each piece moves in both its own accord and at the behest of outside forces. Each of our realities impact each other reality, sharply or dully, but the effect is there.
We, none of us, are alone. We isolate ourselves and make castles for our psyches, create units and set them apart, but really they are simply knots in the greater tapestry. Seeing the whole picture can be difficult.  And we often only see a small piece but it is worth the effort.  Looking inward isn’t always the best path to seeing yourself.  The confluence that you sit in the middle of is more telling if you understand where the originating waves come from.

Thoughts

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Life is the story we tell ourselves;

The internal litany of who we are vs the external actions we take. The conflict points, the breaking points,  are where our actions run contrary to the litany;  for the most part this is not a breaking, in truth, but is instead a slow disintegration.
Eventually this erosion leads to either a breakdown,  if the self was  brittle or an epiphany ,  if the self was flexible;   as we age the natural inclination is to allow our self to wear down into comfortable grooves; but this very comfort leads to a hardening of the self which leads to the brittleness aforementioned;
Into this we inject the maelstrom other people and we are forced to make a choice;  to be the pillar or the reed;  to allow others to shape us or to bend  but still have our core intact; I suppose it comes down to how confident you are;
Are you enough without the influence of others?  Are you desirous enough of change to make your own choices to shape your own self? Are you conscious enough to make that choice?

Tonight

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Sometimes desire is not enough. I say that the only reason to do a thing is out of desire. It is the ignition but it cannot sustain. Laughter in a parking lot, joy realized holds a greater power. Maybe I’m just feeling lonely.

Relationship

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It is strange when sex and pain are the center of a relationship.  Maybe especially so when it starts that way.  And especially so when you are the outsider in an open marriage.  I’ve met her husband and he’s cool with it.  And my Intuition isn’t throwing any red flags.  I think as long as it stays a top/bottom relationship he’ll be fine but I want more than that.  So I thought I’d share this out with a bunch of strangers to see if it helps me work through it.  I think I’ll ask them out on a date and see where it goes.  If it goes.