Lyrically, this might be the best poem I have ever written. It is a love song really about guitar strings. The late Mark Kelsey wrote the music and it fit perfectly. I use stainless steel guitar strings, so that is the core of the theme. I worked at a music store for a number of years and sold an awful lot of instrument strings. There are a lot of good lines in here. BTW, I’m still waiting for you.
MIDIMike
Lyrically, this might be the best poem I have ever written. It is a love song really about guitar strings. The late Mark Kelsey wrote the music and it fit perfectly. I use stainless steel guitar strings, so that is the core of the theme. I worked at a music store for a number of years and sold an awful lot of instrument strings. There are a lot of good lines in here. BTW, I’m still waiting for you.
MIDIMike
This is another poem wrapped around my children. This one from watching my daughter grow up but not quite a teen yet. The joy you get watching your kids learn and grow and be fascinated – and challenged by life. Knowing if this is where it starts, how much more joy there will be in years to come. So I value these times all the more.
Memories of putting a tired child to bed at night as they might cry themselves to sleep. How they know more than they possibly could, sometimes. And still so thrilled at the simplest things you show them.
MIDIMike
I am not sure what the ‘Trinkets” I am referring to in this song are, but what we see in people is not always there. Men want to be tough and independent, but inside wish for an opportunity to show the concern and interest to help those close to us. Where I see someone acting like a saint, others see an edgy, abrasive person. They can both be true.
MIDIMike
Here is my realization that my relationship with my wife was over. Even if you are faced with decisions that are no more than the lesser of two evils or no good option at all – you are still making decisions and choices. It might look as if that is the way you wanted things. You create your own Trap every time you try to make the best of a bad situation.
MIDIMike
A humorous look at getting older. My memories are stronger than I am anymore. Days blend and interconnect with the numbing routine of daily life.
Energy does not last long and a nap sounds really good right now.
MIDIMike
I ran into a gentleman
Who said he knew me well.
He was a nice looking man
But a stranger. As far as I could tell.
He asked me if I minded
Could he stop for a chat?
Taking the seat next to me
Someone new, I thought. Nothing wrong with that.
Recalling events in great detail
Forgotten, until now.
Still, he told me about buried times
I loved the most. Not sure exactly how.
Legs went numb, and I lost my breath.
He asked me to go for a walk.
For the first time I felt so
Small and afraid. In the mouth of a hawk.
Opened my eyes, eventually.
Safe, warm and snuggled in bed.
Somehow, I could repeat each of his stories
Feel every word he said.
I went back to the same seat
Hoping he would be there.
I’d be willing to listen to anything
If he was willing to share.
Walking towards me, he stopped.
Asked if he could sit down.
The parks are beautiful this time of year
As each of the leaves turned brown.
Again I started to panic
Time was slipping away.
Forgetting all I had learned and remembered
Only since yesterday!
On the floor, underneath my bed
Still trying to open my eyes.
Forget what is important; life becomes a trivia game.
But you won’t want The Prize.
This is a painful song and poem for me to listen to or read. My younger brother battled throat cancer and other serious health problems. After many similar health crisis, he was taken to ICU at our local hospital. His cancer had eaten most of his throat (he had a feeding tube for a long time) and was ready to cause his main artery to critically tear and rupture.
He was medicated for pain as I told him where he was and what would happen soon; he would most likely not leave this room alive. It was a moment that will not fade in my memory. He was such a neat kid. It got worse from there as they decided to ignore his posted DNR (Do NOT Resuscitate) order.
My father, mother and younger sister died a few years ago. My older sister died last November and my older brother that helped me write songs early in life has had multiple strokes and seizures and is now in an assisted living facility.
It sucks being the only healthy one.
MIDIMike
An early poem of mine that was turned into a song years later. I was always an introvert, I guess. I often write about being alone or leaving parties or crowds early. And I love to walk!
Talking with kids my age was always difficult as well. Most kids didn’t talk like adults. They had silly conversations and well-rehearsed opinions on everything.
I had to slow down so I didn’t sound like Spock in a Star Trek episode! But what I am really looking for is real.
Even if I never find it.
MIDIMike
The poem started off trying to empathize the world of a great musical mind and astounding talent: Stevie Wonder. I imagine so many words have little to no meaning as a point of reference for visually impaired people. Descriptions can only go so far. But there is power in the human touch. You don’t need to ‘see’ love and caring to know it is there. So much of life can be felt within, but the yearning for what others take for granted probably never goes away.
MIDIMike
MidiMike 