Jig of the Morning in Music (aka Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Blogging)

This is a poem pulled from a post last year. As soon as I read the challenge, I knew this poem was the PERFECT thing to do for sound. It was originally written to music, so an updated version put to music is exactly what this challenge is about.

To hear the poem, press play on the video and follow along below with the voice. You can also watch the video first. It will recite the poem with music and give you a visual of these flowery dancers.

The lyrics/words are below. Continue reading

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Overwhelmed

Completely overwhelmed again
Dazed, confused, alone and then
Try to find where to begin
Completely overwhelmed again

Must purge this pollution
So start a revolution
Of impolite intrusion
To purge this pollution

Back to when it started
Where my heart was hardened
And kept from begging pardon
Go back to when it started

Overwhelmed and surrounded
Can’t you see I’m being hounded
Save me fast because I’m drowing
Overwhelmed and surrounded

Don’t know how to free myself
Always doing something else
My mind is sick; I need your help
Don’t know how to free myself

Give me truth because I want more
This is my way of asking for
Someone to unlock the door
Give me truth because I want more

Completely overwhelmed again
Dazed, confused, alone and then
Try to find where to begin
God rescues me once again.

I passed!! DONE!! *happy dance*

If the title of this post wasn’t enough, let me say it again (cause you know I love to!).. I PASSED!! I am now officially in the “passed the CPA exam” club :D I got the score for BEC today. See:

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Now all I need is a job and a year’s worth of experience and I will be licensed. Oh the joy!! I’ve said it over and over again… “Thank you to all my praying peoples!! Without them I wouldn’t have passed and without God I wouldn’t have tried.” Life is fantastically amazing right now!!! *happy dance again*

Anger

It completely devours
Eats away until I’m gone
It controls who I am
Making me bitter
It consumes my body
Fills every thought
It’s constantly waging
War with my heart
It influences choices
I say the wrong things
It pushes people away
Even the ones that I love
It changes me
From the inside out
It takes EVERYTHING
I ever held close.

Marion Stone

Marion Stone dreamt of adventure,
Of life beyond the boarding school walls,
Of hunting dragons and sailing pirates,
Of joining Robin and all his outlaws.
Her life was full of teachers, not fun.
She longed to be free, to be able to run,
And to join the kings and knights of old lore
That could never reach her behind the school doors.
So one night young Marion made her escape.
She snuck down the halls and out the front gate,
And into a world unknown by her then
Where adventure lurked beyond every bend.
Miss Marion Stone felt the excursions abound
As she stood amazed at the world she had found.
The buildings grew high with Continue reading

Mirror, Mirror

“Mirror, mirror on the wall”
Now what’s up with that?
“Who’s the fairest of them all?”
That tells me where you’re at.

If you’re stuck in front of your mirror
You know it can’t be healthy
There is a way to see life a lot clearer
And it will not be so deadly
Mirrorism is a term
It has no definition
It will make you twitch and squirm
And alter your position Continue reading

Feelin’

I feel so down and out
I want to scream! I want to shout!
I feel so way down low
But I’ll try to hide so you’ll never know

You don’t know what I’m feeling
Because I keep it all locked up
And you’ll never know
Unless I show.

I feel so way up high
So good I’ll touch the sky
When I’m feeling good
You’ll know like you should.

You don’t know what I’m feeling
Because I keep it all locked up
And you’ll never know
Unless I show. Continue reading

Words

Get a grip
Over your lip
You don’t know what you’re saying
You don’t know with what you’re playing

Words can lie and words can cheat
Words can sweep you off your feet
Words can hurt and words can kill
Words can flirt and speak your will
Seems all the words you ever use
Are words that hurt and those do bruise

Get a grip
Over your lip
You don’t know what you’re saying
You don’t know with what you’re playing Continue reading

Dark Knight Rises

Image

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I have been waiting on this one since the other left off and there was no disappointment at all. It was fantastically amazing. Just when I had it figured out, the plot changed. Just when I thought it might be getting slow, the action jumped in and threw me. And just when I thought it was over, the possibilities exploded!!! Good grief it was good :) Sometimes we must be who is needed not who we want to be. Sometimes the good guy must take the fall, not to earn the glory or because someone forced him, but because the world needs grace. If the bad ones always got what they deserved, there would be no good left. At one time or another, the good ones got a second chance too. -sigh- I always leave Batman wanting to do something selfless and change the world. Maybe we should all hold on to that feeling.

Jig of the Morning

Dawn awoke on a quiet May morn.
Lavender, azure, a mist draped dawn.
Silence dances intimately with flowers and trees
While the star of the morning greets the wood.
The flowers that slept are gently awakened
To the motion of silence preparing for song.
Foxglove and Primrose have joined in motion
Bluebells and Snowdrops have intertwined in this dawn.
They meet in a clearing as directed by silence
Greeting one another with sweetness and smiles.
Quiet.
Silence.
All is stilled.
Then their stalks tingle with anticipation
Their roots and their petals yearn for the song
The moment, the movement, the music has spoken
Their hearts are all racing, the jig has begun.

Around the house, swaying in sixes, every petal pulsing to the count of eight.
Primrose to Foxglove, Snowdrop to Bluebell, partnered together to wheel at their home.
Their motion and damhsa creating the music, the souls of each flower directed by song.
Advancing to center, pairs step in the tightness, sharing the sweetness of dancing in May.
Retiring to home, cutting in sixes, the ceili enchants the wood draped in dawn.
Swirling as one, yet part of the greater, the couples themselves house to their home.
A new figure begins, a garland of flowers, the partners now chained go round to their home.
They turn to their partner, yet wheel all alone now, taking the moment to move with the mist.
Then together they’re off, intertwined with the music, housing the figure of eight back to home.
The gates are then lifted, arching up to the trees, lilac light pouring down, gently brushing their faces
The Foxglove and Primrose, Bluebells and Snowdrop glide through the gates, together in motion
Then clasping their partner, they flow through once more.
Home is still waiting as they house round the wood now, waiting to wheel as they reach it in time.
Foxglove and Bluebells shall step for their honor:
High cut, stamp, shuffle, hop, stamp, point, point, batter, hop back.
High cut, stamp, shuffle, hop, stamp, point, point, batter, hop back.
High cut, stamp, shuffle, hop, stamp, point, point, batter, hop back.
High cut, stamp, shuffle, hop, stamp, point, point, batter, hop back.
Primrose and Snowdrop look on with pride as their partners step the words of their souls.
The pairs back together, grasp at each other, preparing to house around the last time.
Eyes shining, smiles gleaming, the air is alive with the motion.
Hearts racing, souls bursting, the air is alive with the music.
The dance intertwined with the song.
Home.

Silence.

The flowers disperse for the star has now risen
The amethyst aura, now condensed by the set,
Becomes buttery shafts that pour through the trees.
The ceili of dawn churned a glorious morning.
The sweetness of May can be felt on the breeze.
The silence surges backward, breathless for a moment,
For the Foxglove and Primrose, Bluebells and Snowdrop,
Their likes never again shall be seen.

 

– This was written in response to the dance “Aoibhneas na Bealtaine,” which is Irish for “The Sweets of May,” an adapted version of an Irish figure dance collected and published by The Irish Dance Commission in 1969. My professor, Jean Denney Grotewhol, adapted it.