My Heart (a song)

Here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

It was made
by the ones who love it
It was made
by the ones who tore it
It is made
by the smiles you give it
It is made
by the tears that heal it

So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

It’s built by
the walls of protection
It’s built by
the gates of trusting
It’s made by
fear of more rejection
It’s made bu
acts of affection.

So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

Thank you for reading this song. I hope you enjoyed it. 

Left On The Bus (Journey To Me)

On this journey I must look at where I’ve been and the stories that shaped my life. I believe it is important to look in the rear view mirror every so often to see the path you are on a little more clearer. The first story I’m reflecting on while on this journey of self discovery happened when I was a child.

When I was 5 I would ride the bus to kindergarten. One day the bus driver dropped all the kids off at school, but did not check the seats. She left the school and parked the bus in her normal bus parking lot, but was in a rush. She had to take her grandson to the doctors or meet him at the hospital. Again she did not check the seats on the bus.

I stress this point, because little 5 year old me was asleep in one of the seats. At that time I could sleep anywhere and apparently through anything.

I snapped to consciousness in an empty bus parked in an unfamiliar location. I still remember the location. It was a packed dirt parking lot filled with buses somewhat close to the town’s blue water tower. It was almost a sky blue and looked like a mechanical ellipsoid.

After leaving the bus I made it to the road. I did not know where to go. I was only 5 and did not know where I was.

The only thing that I could do was sit on the curb and cry. I’m not sure how long after my tears started that a lady, in what I remember as, a brown boxy sedan pulled up. I only remember that she did and offered me a ride to the police station.

At first I did not want to go with this stranger, but she seemed nice and there were car seats in the back of her car. To 5 year old me that meant she was a mom and safe.

She did bring me to the police station.

I cannot tell you what questions were asked once I was there. I’m not sure many people could understand me well, since I had a speech impediment. That did not inhibit them in finding where I belonged.

Soon I was asked if I wanted to ride in the sergeant’s car or a cruiser. After they explained the difference I picked one. I honestly cannot remember which one I actually picked. I do remember that I didn’t really care. I just wanted to be somewhere familiar.

I was brought back to school where I believe my mom picked me up.

From that day on I have been a lighter sleeper, especially while in a moving vehicle.

I Can’t (a song)

You wonder and you ask me
Does your hope fly up in the sky?
Do you need your dreams to hide from reality?
Can you stop now from chasing your wants?

You see
I could give up and I could lie down.
I could turn away if you showed me how.
I would watch t.v. or read the whole night long
my time would be only all mine.

Yes,
I could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away if you showed me how
My nights would be free, my weekends filled with sleep.
And Alcohol, well it would be my best friend.

I really could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away. Please showed me how.
Life would be much easier, easier for me.
Easier to catch a breath, easier to do anything,
but that’s not me.
That cannot be me.
I am my dreams, not this reality.

I guess
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

I will paint my thoughts and write what’s in my heart.
My time will belong to my dreams.

I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

My nights will be filled, my weekends hugged by hope.
And I will dance where my dream may go.

Because
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

I don’t typically write songs as you may know, so getting a finished song done is tricky for me. I believe the words are almost there, which is why I’m sharing them with you. I am still working on the tune and notes. 

Please let me know what you think of it. Any and all feedback is welcomed.

 

Pen Poem

The twirling pen yearns.
It yearns to kiss the paper again;
like a cage bird who desires to fly free.
It sees the unstrung violin;
the beautiful instrument that can only sigh

Yes, instead of releasing it’s ink,
as it is meant to,
my pen twirls and whirls.
It dance through my fingers,
the same pattern repeats.
It yearns to kiss its beloved paper once more.
Yet it only spins,
like the unstrung violin,
its purpose is unfulfilled.

What Is Home?

poetry

Home is where the heart is
or is home where a heart is?
How do you know where a heart lives?
A home may be messy.
It may be clean.
Loud noises may prevail,
or a simple quiet hum.
The smell of cooking
paint or farm animals
live among the walls of a home.

So what is a home?
Memories are made within the wall
and pictures displays the heart’s love.
Styles along with dishware
are mixed and matched;
meaning hearts are mingling,
meaning that the home has lasted.
Loved is displayed
with knick-knacks
and photos of family
leaving lingering love in the air.

What Happened This Week- DreamWard Bound

success

What happened this week? What did I do?

It seems like a long week, packed with work and social media. I have reasons for feeling like this week was focused on social media and the internet. I took a webinar, my improv troupe created social media accounts, and I am starting a new project that requires accounts. There are reasons why you have not heard about the new accounts that I helped set up and will be working with.

The improv troupe is still getting the promotional information up. We should be tweeting and posting later this week. When we do I will be retweeting and sharing posts.

The other project still needs some definition and to be smoothed out. It also needs images or at least a logo. When we have everything ready for that I will also be retweeting and sharing posts. I will also be talking about it more and giving you details.

In general I am going to try to be more social on social media. I am going to try to share more things that I think are interesting and basically just be more active. I learned a lot of tips while taking Amy Jo Berman’s  webinar about social media. I also had a few smiles when I realized I am doing some things right.

That being said once this site is on the right server I will be changing my site up. It will have 3 distinct areas. Each are will have its own feel and aspect of myself. This means that when you go to the home page there will be 3 sections to choose from (Actor, Author, and Artist). I will have the most recent blog post on the home page, but everything else will be under one of the other aspects. This way I can represent myself more clearly and fully. It is exciting to be making changes, but it will also be a lot of work.

Looking back on this post, it seems like a lot of it was what will happen. I promise I did do things. It takes work to set up awesomeness and I believe that all that is being set up now will be great.

I only have one link for you today. I only posted my weekly writing prompt

I Am A Soggy Bagel

bagel (2)

Today I got dressed up. I felt like I needed to look good. I wanted to take extra time for myself, so in the morning I woke up early. I put on my new cream cheese spread and wore heels. I even did my make-up. I was looking amazing if I do say so myself.

I started my car and went to work. I was on the highway when it started to rain and then I got a flat tire. I pulled over to change the tire. As soon as my car was safely on the side of the highway the clouds fully opened up. Have you ever seen a bagel in high heels changing a tire when it was raining buckets? I am sure I was amusing the drivers with all four tires intact that drove by. I just know it was not fun changing that tire and I was almost instantly soggy. After a few nice people did stop to help I finally had my tire changed to the spare.

I stopped, soaking wet, at a tire store. They changed the spare out for a new regular tire and I was off to work, again. The only real different was that I was no longer fancy or looking amazing. I was simply a soggy bagel in heels.

Could Be ( A Poem)

poetry
This could be amazing;
ride upon unicorns
over sparkling rainbows
while bards play magical melodies
and wild nymphs dance on trees
amazing.
Others may spring into light
out of sheer joy.
This could bring delightful dancing doggies
or curiously cute cats,
wonders upon wonders could be brought.

On the other hand
if you flip the tape,
reverse my hopes,
show my fears.

This could be terrible,
rotted death could ooze out its orifices
like black tar filled humiliation
and the sulfur smell of dying dreams
those that were crushed by failure,
which would cause a dank cave
to become a bare home for my soul
with only swollen sadness
to guide my lonely days.

There is a burning flame
a flickering fire inside
that holds to the unicorn
almost seeing the sparkling rainbow
and knows
even if dying dreams are crushed by failure
new one will arise
out of the dream pulp
or ashes of failure.
The phoenix that is my heart
will go on
will create.

Pain

poetry
First you whisper,
then you walk close.
You talk,
telling me to focus
or maybe it was ‘relax’.
Either way you came
to distract,
although my aim was to ignore
and ignore I did
until the training was brought to its end.

You allowed me to ignore you,
but you were patiently waiting
gathering information for the fight.
You calmly waited
until I was alone.
I was still.
Then you erupted
with a thunderous shout
because I did not move
not how you wanted.
The movement caused you to no longer be ignored
my attention was yours.
As I relaxed you were in the way.
As I lay in bed you preventing sleep.
As I ate breakfast you interrupted.

Thankfully I could dig in my bag
to find earmuffs to your nice
and swallowed them down.
Then heated a towel
to sooth what was left,
eventually freezing you out after.
More ear muffs,
more heat, more cold
and then life was possible.