Tag: spokenword

These mountains (oh children)

I was young

So much younger

Younger back then

A four minute sermon

In that church in the valley

Struggling to keep the words from running away

Like my soul

So often will

——

See that young man

In my mind

I am still him

Selling things on the highway,

as a child,

See

The couple, they are fighting…

And she hands me a notepad

Asking for me to write words

That I can not find …

Love is a garden, and you can’t harvest what you won’t grow…

—-

See the man

Trying to drown

All the pain in his eyes

My son

My daughter

My children

——

We were young

In that country

the storm’s rolling over

Putting words in these hands

The notebooks

And a broke piano

To keep them hemmed

—-

Now the world keeps on changing

Emotions,they are re-arranging

And the high doesn’t last

She’s intrigued

And curious

She’s never met an artist

With a southern sound

the ability

To outlast her California high

But I’m afraid

That I can’t stay

For my mountains they call me back

It’s in the highways

And the valleys

It’s a grit from my families old stills

And I’m afraid

She doesn’t understand

Some things

You can’t grow out here…

my sons

My sons

Don’t give yourself away

Keep your grit

Keep your faith

Keep your eyes

On these mountains

Even while you are away

Let me see

Let me stand

Let me find

My heart in my homeland

The old moonshine country

Where we live what we feel

Where we outlast

What would kill

Oh my son

My daughter

My foolish youth

I wish I could shield you

From

How a heart

Caves in like the coal mines

Standing in your empty house

Where your dreams

Your ideals

Your heart beat

And your breath

Held its last

And you swore you would not become a tombstone

As you pack all the boxes

With fractured breath

It’s just memories

Of a love that slowly died

Go to stand

In the silence

Of your cemetery

And

All that feels empty

An ideal

This house once was a home

Like the distilleries from the past ….

Oh my son

Keep your eyes

Fixed

Where a heart

Cannot drown

God bless the hands that built

All of those mines

Those stills

the homes

And these mountains

From the sand

Keep your grit

Keep your faith

Keep your eyes

Set

On all

That still stands

Now

Go

Go

When life tears you down

rebuild

See that you stand

Like these mountains

With skies in your eyes

Go

Go

And

Rebuild

With a future and a life

And carry this grit with you

It will burn warm in the night

-E

Regardingsamuel.com

Arrive

We paint things
With hash tags
And love songs
Only
It was just
Two people,
Someone loving,
The other being loved
Someone giving, adoring,
The other, receiving and being adored.
And they called that love
——-
And when she grew tired of it
Cold and empty
They couldn’t understand why
Because everything from their side had been great.
——
I held her in my arms
And she stayed there for a moment
And asked me
Why
Why is it
That we always seem to arrive too late …
Dashed against the earth
Like reality
All the colour
All the pain
We never wake up…
Until it’s too late …
—-//
I said I wasn’t sure
And for once
I really wasn’t
Or maybe
I didn’t want to be

-E

Everything under the sun

You know I’m no good

there’s still time for me

To change

And

Every-thing under the sun

Just stays on repeat

–

The weatherman says

The world will implode

And the business man said

It’s about to snow

—/

It seems to me

We should have kept those steel oats ….

Winter is short

And

Summer is long

I’d buy you an island maybe a beach

But you wouldn’t be happy hun

Maybe next year will be better

We’ll see….

—/

The way you walked in the room

I thought you were looking at me

I guess it was just that saloon song

You know I’m no good

But there’s still time for me to change …

—-/

You know the world was no good

Until you walked in the room

Now it’s fire works and the fullest moon

I was drinking gin

But I switched to champagne

They say everything under the sun

Just repeats itself

That’s how the world was won

I keep selling to myself

That nights like this

Make a man dream…

I hope it repeats

Until I’m walking on the ceiling

Through to the moon

Shaking hands with the holy host

Write my name in the book of most

Maybe it was the saloon song

Maybe it was your kiss

But I think it’s time for a change

-E

On the Importance of being

Is poetry important right now?

Is it relevant?

Did the ’90s have it right?

Is God dead?

Why even bother?

How do I write or create and give proper representation to everyone…

Can it even be done?

—-///

Look at the Sistine chapel

The creation of Adam

What if we all stopped and froze

What if there were no German poets?

Because they halted their breath after WWII?

You have to speak

You have to be brave enough

To look at yourself

Look at the world you walk through

And make notes

—///

And he took him a potsherd to scrape himself with; and he sat down among the ashes.

-Job 2:8

Job didn’t have a pastor, a minister, a doctor or a psychiatrist. He didn’t have anything, his family were dead, his livestock dead, his wife was unkind. She told him to curse God and die. in an effort to give him some relief. And ease his suffering.

But he said

“I can’t, I know too much, I’ve seen too much, I can’t go back…”

He scraped his boils with pottery…

To give some relief….

—////

Art,poetry,creating is important because it is what we live for…

It’s the colours of living. It’s life…

You’re unique, you stand out, you view the world separately and differently, there is only one you.

We’re not supposed to fit in.

Or be like anyone else…

That’s why history has those few remnants, those that create.

They look at the world and they make notes and they write what they see.

Fb, apps, algorithms?

If you’re waiting for it to be safe…

To discern truth for you?

You’ll die waiting…

These things are not the truth tellers…

That’s me and you…

It’s up to us to discern what is truth…

I’ll say it again…

All of this fake and false and upsetting and black clouds and thunderstorms and the future is dead and god is dead and we have to remake everything so it’s perfect and there is no hurt hearts or shocked eyes?

It’s not real.

Too much perfection is a mistake

It’s up to us to discern truth

What we see and what we read

We Create

We speak

We build a better tomorrow

Because we live through and in today

All the algorithms

Will always be just that

An algorithm

A process

A highway

For Information

But it’s up to us

To drive it

And discern the navigation

Like a library

—-

So yes

Poetry

Art

Life

Is always in the now

Right here

Right now

It’s so important

It’s you

It’s our hearts

It’s vital

To our existence

So go

Create

Live

Be bold

If you make mistakes

It’s ok

That’s just life

We grow

We live

But do not stand in fear …

We can’t go back

We’ve seen too much

We’ve lived through too much

And this art

This art is for everyone

There’s room for every heart.

-E

What if

What if –
We all supported each other
What if –
Their win isn’t your loss
What if-
You didn’t cut someone or something down
Every time you built something up
What if-
You wore the shirts
The shorts
The skirts
And
Other women didn’t reprimand you
What if –
Women were celebrated for their accomplishments and not just for marriage-
What if they didn’t spend every moment making sure they weren’t tempting men
Or acting just right
Or under the microscope of everything
What if we all could just discuss and compromise on politics and ideas
What if
We’ve been duped into believing in a win lose
Good guy
Bad guy
Good wife
Bad wife
Good girl
Bad girl
—-/
What if there are none of these things ?
There’s just you and me
us
Right here
In small towns
Big cities
One life
Fighting
Editing each other
When we could be coming together
Building eachother up
Winning
And helping those coming up next
To do the same
——
What if
You crushed your goals
You wore the shirts
The skirts
The clothes
The shoes
The look
You did what made you happy
Really
Really
happy
And you were great at it.
You can
You don’t have to settle for one hour every few weeks with your person
You don’t have to chase things
That make you miserable
And you don’t have to defend yourself
You don’t have to make excuses
You are valid
If you want something more
You deserve something more
You don’t have to wait for permission

Go be you
And celebrate you
Your wins
Your accomplishments
And notice those around you when they win
And celebrate them too.
I believe we all can win.
And why shouldn’t we?
What else is there?
-Regardingsamuel.com

📷@ Ethan Bethune

Stardust

You are not some
Force to be dealt with
You are flesh and bone
Stardust
I cannot lie
I have to stop
Just so I can look back
And
We will learn what it is to be human
Some days we’ll live
Some days we’ll laugh
Others we’ll cry

Sometimes I’m weak

Sometimes I’m strong

Others I just barely have enough


We will live to lose all the love we’ve held….


So I hope you understand
After our kiss and long good byes
I will always – always – look back
-Regardingsamuel.com

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