Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Posts Tagged ‘lyrics

I Hope

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Yesterday afternoon, it occurred to me that I don’t have the same skills for conjuring up “hope” out of nowhere like I do for manifesting “love” by way of a basic mental exercise of simply doing so. Could that be a remnant from a life-long propensity for a dysthymic depressiveness?

The violent clashes between protestors and police forces seem to be getting worse around the country, while things have calmed down dramatically in the Twin Cities. Part of me fears the local rabble-rousers will become re-enthused by the expanding uproar and want to get back in the game.

Another part of me fears the possibility all this turmoil will be for naught, like too many times before. In a year or two, or five, a white police officer will kill a person of color and we’ll still be questioning how this could have happened again.

Cyndie is working a different program. Hopefully, she will prove to be more successful than me at mentally growing neural networks of hope by reducing thoughts focused on the angst of violence, looting, and arson and the racist hatred and inflammatory rhetoric fueling it all and replacing them with visions of the world as a place of equal love and acceptance for everyone.

If we can imagine it, we can build it. If we build it, they will come?

Let there be hope.

All you need is hope. Hope is all you need.

We hope you, yeah, yeah, yeah.

With a hope like that, you know you should be glad.

I Hope

Dixie Chicks  – Writer(s): Martha Maguire, Natalie Maines, Emily Robison, Keb’mo’

Sunday morning, I heard the preacher say
Thou shall not kill
I don’t wanna hear nothing else about killing
And that it’s God’s will

‘Cause our children are watching us
They put their trust in us
They’re gonna be like us
So let’s learn from our history
And do it differently

I hope, for more love, more joy and laughter
I hope, you’ll have more than you’ll ever need
I hope, you’ll have more happy ever after
I hope, we can live more fearlessly
And we can lose all the pain and misery
I hope, I hope

Oh, Rosie, her man he gets too rough
That’s all she can say, he’s a good man
He don’t mean no harm
He was brought up that way

But our children are watching us
They put their trust in us
They’re gonna be like us
It’s okay for us to disagree
We can work it out lovingly

I hope, for more love, more joy and laughter
I hope, you’ll have more than you’ll ever need
I hope, you’ll have more happy ever after
I hope, you can live more fearlessly
And you can lose all the pain and misery
I hope, I hope

There must be a way to change what’s going on
No I don’t have all the answers

I hope, for more love, more joy and laughter
I hope, you’ll have more than you’ll ever need
I hope, you’ll have more happy ever after
I hope, we can all live more fearlessly
And we can lose all the pain and misery
I hope, I hope

I hope, I hope, I hope

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Written by johnwhays

June 3, 2020 at 6:00 am

Ready

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you don’t need to forget

but you’re welcome to try

like a sneeze sneaking up for a very long time

I am coming

so get ready, or not

there are more stars in the sky

when there are no other lights

have you seen them with your very own eyes

the glorious stories they tell

from before we were born

have burned longer than we’ll all be alive

while we waste precious breath

hissing words we’ll regret

once we reclaim all our senses and pride

who is coming

are they ready, or not

our better angels flying round

every space in between

fill the cracks in our delicate minds

reminds us of something else

we might forget to apply

sending love is better than saying goodbye

there’s only so much time left

gather all of your pets

and paint portraits to remember them by

we are going

so be ready, or not

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Written by johnwhays

January 21, 2020 at 7:00 am

Words

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they are just words
but you can’t write them fast enough
because they flow
like lyrics in a song
that everybody already knows
even though they only remember
two lines of the chorus
because the verses wander
all over the map
about kittens and deforestation
cloth diapers, crime, and comedy
lightning, goal celebrations
vegan recipes and political tragedy
ghosts, authors, fancy makeup
chainsaws and Ultimate Frisbee
cyber insecurity, false witness
lost love and fortunes found
like a blog roll of unending topics
scrolling down a glowing screen
ideas on how to make millions with ease
or at least to transform
this world
into a better place
than it could ever possibly be
through song
sing along
with incandescent harmony

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Written by johnwhays

May 7, 2019 at 6:00 am

Fine Love

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I was clinging to life yesterday, what with an intermittent drippy nose and a congestion headache invading my otherwise stellar health, and from beneath my snuggly blanket, I kept hearing lyrics from a John Hiatt song, over and over in my head.

I’ve seen an angel or two before
but I never asked one to be my wife

Cyndie and I have taken turns caring for each other over the years, and when it’s my turn to be the patient, Cyndie becomes an angel of mercy for me.

She took this picture yesterday morning that gives the impression of some kind of energy emanating from our barn. I expect it is a couple of dissolving jet contrails that painted the morning sky in such dramatic fashion, but I’m happy to imagine that it means something about our place.

Love is one of the pillars by which we live our lives, and it continues to inspire our imaginings of what might be possible on our precious property in the rural countryside. The last few years have been a struggle, in a variety of unrelated ways, not the least of which was the passing of our herd-leading horse, Legacy.

The ongoing painful dysfunction of our government that for over two years has been providing a daily scourge of depressing results hasn’t helped, either.

Cyndie and I are in a bit of a holding pattern as to what comes next. It was a response to her discoveries working with horses, and our time spent with Ian in Portugal that brought us to this property. I was happy to join her in this adventure to unknown possibilities.

Back to John Hiatt’s song…

I left my map way back there baby
I don’t know where we are
But I’m gonna pull my pony up
Hitch my wagon to your star

“Real Fine Love” Written by: JOHN HIATT Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

 

I’m not sure what comes next, but it seems to me that it would likely have a focus that emanates from that barn.

Whatever it is, it will be infused with a real fine love.

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Written by johnwhays

January 5, 2019 at 9:52 am

Intoxicating

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there are words
with grip strength
that surround a heart
and come out of nowhere
magically recounting
a lost memory
of unconscious love
sung to a melody
that glides along a winding path
effortlessly rolling over
gentle hills
of unrivaled beauty
from an impossible dream
all color and soft light
with an intoxicating aura
rising warmly on afternoon rays
of filtered golden beams
a chorus of emotional bliss
an immemorial infatuation
that forgot to end

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Written by johnwhays

November 4, 2017 at 9:26 am

Fragment

with 2 comments

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Words on Images

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Written by johnwhays

March 15, 2017 at 6:00 am

Lyrical Reality

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sleep begs my eyelids to give up
tugging them down against their wishes
with miles to go
before I am home

pieces of asphalt lie scattered
in the grass that grows up around them
waiting patiently
for someplace to go

trees lean in every direction
victims of unforgiving forces unleashed
with vengeance
despite their innocence

the cats refuse to call a truce
behaving erratically and always on alert
to an impending threat
they themselves created

and the clock rolls on
ticking and clicking
advancing
as if being forced
to march on
no matter how ready
we don’t think
we really are

sunshine peeks up over the horizon
and everything takes notice and responds
absorbing and growing
greater than before

pounding like a heart always beating
inspiration thumps on my sleepy head
like a freight train
with someplace to be

things to do overflow my thoughts
like the snowmelt water that still remains
wreaking havoc
on any sense of order

brush piles patiently await their fate
as if being prominent carried specific intent
an always easy option
to fulfill a burning desire

and the clock rolls on
ticking and clicking
advancing
as if being forced
to march on
no matter how ready
we don’t think
we’ll ever be

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Written by johnwhays

May 11, 2013 at 7:00 am