So I wanna talk about my favorite Poets…since it is National Poetry Month.
I have always been fond of Edgar Allan Poe. His work speaks to the Goth heart in me. His story 0f not making it during his lifetime also hits notes of poetic tragedy and genuine goth nature…(I know I am weird.)
Another I have always loved was Emily Dickenson. Her work is almost opposite in a lot of ways to Poe. Flowery and light. Almost as though she were making the words themselves her lover.
In my teen years I discovered Irene Hunt’s Up a Road Slowly. It introduced me to two new poets. Sara Teasdale and Edna St. Vincent Millay. I was enamored by the idea that poetry could be just randomly inserted into books. I did not realize that would not generally happen anyway.
In more recent years thanks to YouTube, I have discovered Blythe Baird and Rachel Wiley. I adore their poems.
[Verse 1] Why are you hangin’ on So tight To the rope that I’m hangin’ from Off this island? This was an escape plan (This was an escape plan) Carefully timed it So let me go And dive into the waves below [Pre-Chorus] Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables? Emotional torture From the head of your high table Who fetches the water From the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again To feel your words and their sharp sting? And I’m gettin’ fuckin’ tired
[Chorus] The capillaries in my eyes are bursting If our love died, would that be the worst thing? For somebody I thought was my saviour You sure make me do a whole lot of labour The calloused skin on my hands is crackin’ If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour
[Post-Chorus] (You make me do too much labour)
[Verse 2] Apologies from my tongue Never yours Busy lapping from a flowing cup And stabbing with your fork I know you’re a smart man (I know you’re a smart man) And weaponise The false incompetence It’s dominance under guise
[Pre-Chorus] If we had a daughter I’d watch and could not save her The emotional torture From the head of your high table She’d do what you taught her She’d meet the same cruel fate So now I’ve gotta run So I can undo this mistake At least I’ve gotta try
[Chorus] The capillaries in my eyes are bursting If our love died, would that be the worst thing? For somebody I thought was my saviour You sure make me do a whole lot of labour The calloused skin on my hands is crackin’ If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour
[Bridge] All day, every day: Therapist, mother, maid Nymph, then a virgin nurse, and a servant Just an appendage, live to attend him So that he never lifts a finger Twenty-four-seven baby machine So he can live out his picket fence dreams It’s not an act of love if you make her You make me do too much labour All day, every day: Therapist, mother, maid Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, and a servant Just an appendage, live to attend him So that he never lifts a finger Twenty-four-seven baby machine So he can live out his picket fence dreams It’s not an act of love if you make her You make me do too much labour [Chorus] The capillaries in my eyes are bursting (All day, every day: Therapist, mother, maid) If our love died, would that be the worst thing? (Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, and a servant) For somebody I thought was my saviour (Just an appendage, live to attend him) You sure make me do a whole lot of labour (So that he never lifts a finger) The callous skin on my hands is crackin’ (Twenty-four-seven baby machine) If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? (So he can live out his picket fence dreams) And the silence haunts our bed chamber (It’s not an act of love if you make her) You make me do too much labour
My 2 Cents –
this song was very cleverly marketed. it brings out a lot of feminine rage. There is not a woman alive who doesn’t understand at least one line of this song. I actually was awaiting the release date…and I have not done that in years. It is well written. The part that they released to tease with was perfect.
So, many of you know that I run a small press. Fae Corps Publishing.
We have a busy schedule for the next few months.
March 31 – The Key of the Storm by DW Storer
April 7 – Internal Battlefields by Patricia Harris (My poetry volume)
April 14 – Valley of Thoughts by NK Xero
April 21 – State of Mind by Jennifer Elliott
May 7 – Keko and the Lost Bananas by CM Snow
May 15 – Faery Flying anthology release
May 22 – Toe Rag by Ruan Bradford Wright
May 26 – The Riverside Chronicles by Raz T Slasher
June 1 – Life Lost, Love Gained by Ashira Dayta
June 15 – Blue Ted’s Easter Adventure by DW Storer
There will be more… but that is what I have scheduled for now. We have another anthology call scheduled for this year. The deadline is August.(I will be posting it on the fae corps blog in June.)
I am hoping to be able to do another volume of Poetry at the end of June… but I don’t want to promise it until I get it done.
In mother earth’s garden, a flower was growing Her blossoms as red as the love in her soul But along came a Daisy with a heart of fool’s gold And petals as white as a lie could be told
The Daisy was parched, he begged her for drink He wept and he groveled right there at her feet The flower obliged with a soft-hearted grin She bent her own stem to give nectar to him
If only she noticed how deeply he drank The Daisy grew taller while she only sank He spread out his leaves and he beckoned the shade A cover so thick no light could penetrate
She pleaded with him, he ignored all her cries He stood like a tower his head held so high The flower was stunned, she was spurned and betrayed Alone in the darkness, she flew in a rage
She hardened her skin and grew out her thorns So no other Daisy could hurt her anymore But she kept her blush red to this very day So she’d never forget all the love she misplaced
So the next time you see Daisies in bloom Don’t stop for a gander just keep walking through (keep walking through) And the next time you see a Rose of red stain Just know that her beauty was not without pain
I always do the PAD Challenge myself. Plus I host a PAD challenge on the Fae Corps Blog
So I have scheduled a Poem A Day on here just in case I don’t get to do any other blogging. No commentary…just poetry by wonderful poets whom I enjoy. I hope to be able to post my own poetry throughout the month and maybe do some of my regular posts as well. I do not know.
I will be trying to be popping in and trying to discuss things as I can, but I at least wanted to keep my blog active while I am so busy.
But in an adult way. We all learn as time passes and we do things. I have released quite a few books. The first ones are not going to be as pretty as the most recent ones. I am wanting to go through and clean up the prior books… and I might…but I was given some good advice from a friend and fellow writer. She said that if we were to do that every time we found an error in the way that we did things in previous years, we would not have any time to do new things.
Time always seems infinite.
It really rarely is. There’s always going to be something else that is going to want you to donate that precious time to it. And that means you have to learn how to accept that you are learning and adapting as you move forward.
What lessons have you been struggling with lately?
Pattimouse 