Relative Something

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

Posts Tagged ‘lyrics

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

with 4 comments

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