My Poetic Thread

Brought up a box of Archives from the utility room. (There is an amusing ancedote about this which I may post later, if I remember.) I lifted the lid to see what was inside and was immediately met with three magenta posters from the last play I was in, maybe twenty years ago now. The one poster is signed by cast members. They were all thanking me for "carrying the show". I remember getting a standing ovation during the Friday performance, but I don't recall carrying the show. I wasn't even on stage that much. Sadly, I'm only able to make out five signatures. Some wrote their names so poorly I can't read them. On used initials. I'll have to wait until I come across an actual program to figure out who "BR" is. Tickets were only $3.50 for adults and $2.50 for students. Not bad for an evening's entertainment.

Oh, the play was Neil Simon's, FOOLS.

Found a couple of old newspapers I saved. One is from January 14, 1978. Hubert Humphrey had died. Whatever one thinks of his politics, he was good for Minnesota. The other paper is from March 27, 1979. Anwar Sadat and Menachem Begin had signed a treaty. There is a photograph of Jimmy Carter shaking hands with Begin while Sadat sits laughing happily at their side.

Next came a couple of Leadership and Team Building pieces from when I was a Project Lead in the early 90s. I recall managment didn't like my style and replaced my methods with a more authoritarian approach.

Then came a projected schedule for The Freelancer, a magazine devoted to writing I wanted to start up fifteen or twenty years ago. I'd still like to do that, but d*mn it, things cost money. Why?

I've only dipped in two inches, but now I've found something I find interesting. It is an old legal pad, yellow now (that's not fair - the pad was always yellow), which contains several ideas for Swords of Fire, Spargeld the Magnificent, The Power, The Caves of Argorland, The Quest, The Legions of Encarrah, The Dead The Dying and The Stranger, Shaden's World, The Seven Helmets of Shirdu, Home is Where the Heart Is, Day's End, and The Voyageurs.

There are four pages devoted of character descriptions for The Other Side of Life. There is a single page for my play, The Monsters. I had written it back in 1976 when I was a student at Bethel College in Arden Hills, MN. That copy was somehow lost, and I have wanted to reproduce it ever since. Never have.

The top page has a rough drawing of my Eyeglass House, and my Y House.

But it is Page Two which moved me to write this post. (Oh, great, your thinking. Over 400-words and Bevie hasn't even got to the point yet.) It's a poem. Untitled and without a date. I've read it a couple of times and I'm guessing it is from the 1980s, or the early 90s. What I find interesting is that the poem seems so apropos to my life today. The spirit isn't an exact match, but it's d*mn close. The difference is the presence of friends today.

The poem's untitled, so I'm going to attach one quickly.

When Doom Calls
by Bevie James

The voice of doom is calling
It hails across the way
It warns of sorrow coming
The night which follows day

I cry to the Lord in weeping
Joy has fled my heart
I lack the strength for keeping
For that I fall apart

Where are friends for comfort
From where will come the peace
Darkness is so overwhelming
to a heart that craves release

The weeping sobs are silent
The tears are dry and cold
And hope fades to confusion
And the spirit ages old

I long to see my Lord
I long to see his face
But I've failed as his servant
I've stumbled in the race

And now I grieve with sorrow
My heart aches all alone
The Spirit calls to Jesus
to come and take me home

To this, I can add the following:

Again I hear Doom's voice
It fills my heart with thirst
But I am not alone again
So I can take his worst

Perhaps not a good addition, but I want to say I am ready to face whatever is coming, even though I do not know what it is.

Whether I stay or go, there are people who like me. In my book that means I've already won.

Thank you, friends.

Discovering New Music

Music is an important part of my life. It has been since I can remember. Even as a little one of five I would get all into music. The first artist who's name I could remember was Johnny Cash. He sang Ring of Fire and I Walk the Line. (I love Rodney Crowell's I Walk the Line Revisited. It brings me back more than forty years.) I remember when we visited Grandma Amy's, Aunt Laurel would be playing Gene Pitney on the big fancy stereo. Lynahr introduced me to the Beatles, and Judayl the Monkees.

But most of the time I hadn't a clue what a song's title was, much less who sang it. There are dozens upon dozens of songs I never got because I hadn't a clue what the titles were. You would think someone who was so moved by music would pay attention to things like that, wouldn't you? I hardly ever did (do). I know a lot more now because of the (d*mned) internet. Talk about a love-hate relationship with something inanimate.

Recently, I stumbled across Eye in the Sky, by the Alan Parsons Project. It's a great song. I tried to play bass with it this past week. (Boy, do I s*ck.) But listening to the song via YouTube exposed me to other Alan Parsons Project songs. Historically, I have not listened to songs I didn't think I knew, but I gave it a go this week. Most of the songs I had never heard before, but I found I liked most of them. In fact, I have yet to come across one I don't like.

I remember the same thing happened when Stephen introduced me to the Moody Blues. (And Chinese food, and mushrooms.)

What a waste I have made of my time on this planet. Music means so much to me, and yet I have barely pursued it. All because I'm afraid of - something. D*mned if I know what. Boy, has it cost me.

Alan Parsons Project has been around for years, but I only discovered them this week. Then there are the Celtic songs I heard from exploring from Procol Harum's, Conquistador.

If I could have another dream it would be to be part of music. To play it. To sing it. To tell it. To show it. To feel it.

When I hear music it's like two liquids coming together. It mixes with me, and I am new. I'm listening to Eres Tu, by Mocedades, right now. God, I love that song. It's a song of power. It's the kind of song which makes my heart reach up with arms extended to God and weep with the desire to express love. Maybe that's why music is so important to me. Without it, I don't really express love at all.

Nothing For Here

Haven't felt much like posting. Been sick, and recovery has been kind of off-and-on. I think I'm better for a day, and then the next I'm running a fever and such.

If you're looking for something of interest I wrote a bit about unicorns on SOF - The People. Not too interesting for most people, I think. I just found it curious.

Come Back, Bevie - I Still Love You

I don't write poetry much. Not much good at it. I tend to use the same few cadences over and over and over again. But when I do write it, it touches me. Good poets touch others. I don't. My poems are for me. Pity. But maybe not. My deepest poems often bring me to tears.

I wrote this just this morning. I got up at 1:00 a.m. and came down to the computer and caught up in the business inventory. Spouse has been wanting me to get this done for a couple of weeks now. I've not been good about it. The business is a failure and I drag my feet for it. Did get the Minnesota Sales Tax filed on time. [sad smile] When I finished, about 3:00 a.m., I didn't know what to do with myself. So I've been bathing in my music. I've been going home, where it's safe and secure. Looking for the place of comfort. When I came across Kenny Loggins, Return to Pooh, I opened Word and began writing whatever my feelings were. This is the result. I changed one line during my Read. Otherwise, its the original draft.

It's a poultice song, if you know what that is. My face needs to be wet right now.

I call it, The Spoken Words of Love. Just because.

The Spoken Words of Love

Love. I’ve heard it spoken of well.
It’s the thing of beauty which saves us from hell.
Come gather me, and wrap me in your arms.
Comfort me and hold me and shield me from harm

The beauty of your eyes is like emeralds in the sun
They shine in my heart and make fear come undone
You gaze in my eyes and I melt from your heat
I giggle with joy because our eyes meet

In your arms I can cry and rest from my fears
In your arms I am safe and you dry all my tears
I’m wayward and poor, and acceptance I seek
You give it to me and I’m strong when I’m weak

I love you, my God, and I wish I were good
You know I am not – I live not as I should
Forgive me and love me and hold me again
Touch my deep spirit and keep me from sin

I am such a child, I am such a fool
My need to be loved just makes me a tool
Let me cry now and let me now sleep
Take the weeds from my garden before I must reap

Love. I’ve heard it spoken of well.
It’s the thing of beauty which saves us from hell.
Come gather me, and wrap me in your arms.
Comfort me and hold me and shield me from harm

Mighty Clouds of Joy - Different Progress

Today is Progress Report Day.

I have not been addressing The Great Sea this past week. I have been working on something else: Apprentice. So I will give you a report on my progress with that.

The story is in two (2) files. The original file contains the text I wrote as part of a writing exercise, from OneTwoFiver, which my friend FairyHedgeHog pointed me to by means of creating a link to it on her blog. To this file I began writing the story. Then I stopped and created a new file and put the actual story there. So now I have the Orginal File, which contains the 500 words of original text and a portion of the actual story, and the Story File, which contains just over 4,500 words.

This story is unlike any I have ever written before. The closest I have come to it are portions of Tavaar's backstory. But I resisted letting Tavaar's backstory take me where it wanted to go. There is too much judgment associated with Swords of Fire right now. It's the story I want to get published, but I didn't write it nearly so well as I should have. That's what makes Apprentice so wonderful. I can go there and write what I will. I'm feeling a sense of freedom (happiness) I haven't felt since Mrs. Kohner (my high school creative writing teacher) told me to 'Write what you want, not what you think you're supposed to, and to hell with what other people think.' Mrs. Kohner was cool.

I don't know how many people read this blog. I know there is one ([smiles] Thank You). Perhaps some of you (if 'some' is a valid word, as opposed to simply saying 'you') think me odd - to put it nicely - for reacting so to a simple piece of writing. (I know one of you doesn't care about whether I am odd or not. Thank you.) But for me this is an exciting expedition. I am going to learn something, and I don't know what it is. I haven't actually written the words I need to write to complete this new exploration, but as I near that climactic moment my happiness increases. Something inside me is about to breath fresh air - perhaps for the first time. It's like a birth, isn't it?

In honor of my newfound happiness, I have made Today's Music the Rock 'n' Roll song which makes me feel happiest: B.J.Thomas's Mighty Clouds of Joy. Here are the words as I sing them (Oh, God, I wish I could sing this well). I deliberately change some words. Sorry B.J. (My initials [grin].)

Them old bad dreams
been sleeping in your bed

And them old dark clouds
been a-hanging around your head

But all your hard times
will vanish in the wind

When those mighty clouds of joy
come rolling in

Hold me Jesus
Let-a-your love sieze us
Oh let us find sweet peace within [hallelujah]

Hallelujah
Happiness begins
When those mighty clouds of joy
come rolling in

Those old storm clouds
are slowly drifting by

And those old rain drops
are fading from your eyes

Whoah, Mr. Son,
come shine on us again

When those mighty clouds of joy
come rolling in

O-o-o-o-h, Hold me Jesus
Letchore love sieze us, Jesus
Oh let us find sweet peace within [hallelujah]

Hallelujah
Happiness begins
When those mighty clouds of joy
come rolling in

O-o-o-o-o-oh, Hold me Je-e-su-us
Please, let your love sieze us, Jesus
Oh let us find sweet peace within [hallelujah]

Ha-a-llelu-u-ja-ah
Happiness begins
When those. Mighty. CLOUDS. OF JOY
come rolling in

O-o-o-o-oh. Ho-ld me, Jesus
Won't you let me just SEE ya, Jesus
Oh let us find sweet peace withi-i-i-i-i-i-in [hallelujah]

Oh, Ha-a-llelu-u-ja-ah
Happiness begins
When those mighty clouds of joy
come rolling in
come rolling in