New Episode of Wendy Says Things is Out Now

I’m talking about creativity, vulnerability, and living a fully realized creative life on this episode of Wendy Says Things!

Give it a listen, hit that like button, and share far and wide.

Thank you so much for supporting me, and for being patient while I’ve been settling into a new life after moving!

Listen Here!

I had this framed, and gave it to my college roommate, who I’m staying with for a while, and it’s hanging on a wall in her kitchen! (At least until I move into my new place :P)

Daily Poem – Constellation (with Audio) 11/24/2020

(Reposted with Sung Poetry link)

Take the shot, they said

I ran my finger around the rim of the glass

The fumes of insults bitter rose

Hard liquor is not for me, I tell them,

I remember when I drank that poison

Dancing lightly to the tune of other people’s dreams

I just slip out the back door, now

To smoke freedom in the alley

Walk out onto the sidewalk under lamp posts

Glowing golden in the night

To wander empty city streets and dream

Of communal integration and

Hopes of equitable contribution

My thoughts become a world renewed

By pleasant innovation

Before I know it, I’ve gone home

A waiting invocation to a peaceful

Destination brought by sleepy

Contemplation

In the morning, I will rise

Put some plans upon the table

Avoid stinging tribunals from defenders

Of the status quo

Fanciful rebellion built from cotton candy

Musings

Holding sacred all the precious beauty

Which has become the inspiration

For each flowering consolation

What is love if not the logical progression

Of earthly preservation plus

The deeply cultivated reverence

For each human’s common situation

Temporary permanence

On a trip or two around the sun

What have we won with greed

What have we lost with need

Unfulfilled and

Running headlong in between

The birthing and the grave

Full stop

Give me your hand

Let’s watch the sun caress the sky

Whether rising

Whether sinking

We are written within time’s eternal

Constellation

I Ran With You

So many miles we went

Along dusty paths and across forest floor

A shadow right beside me

How autumn left her scent

In damp leaves swiftly piling

As the winter wind began to blow

In from the cold places lying waiting

That enemy is time

My tears couldn’t hold it back

When it came for you

I lost so much of myself too

So many miles beneath our feet

Your paws in snow and mud

Your nose a prodding boop against my leg

My fingers in your fur

My tears upon your head

But if I wept you got upset, and so I swallowed

All of them until the day

You wouldn’t see them any more

It’s hard to move some days

To put on shoes and take the trails

Remembering the days of joy when

I ran with you

I ran with you until you couldn’t run another step

And we walked for hours slowly sharing

In the beautiful sunsets

How you’d lay in someone’s yard until

You caught your breath

And my breath is caught and stuck

And fraught with loss

When you never got it back

I ran with you

I ran with you

And now I walk weighted

Unwilling to go faster

Held back by sorrow and gravity

I will run again

I will

I know you’re out there in spirit

Running still

And I will run with you

Behind the Song: Blue Night

Blue Night came from a small snippet of poetry that I had jotted down or maybe posted on Twitter and then printed out as possible lyrics. Rosalie said it sounded like a lullaby, which I initially rejected (that’s just a knee-jerk reaction for me), but then later thought, well, why not? It does sound a little like a lullaby. We had discussed it several times, and then I fleshed out the words some. We recorded the background for this song at my apartment with Rosalie at the keyboards, and me in front of my desk with my guitar. One of the things I love about this song is the synergy and the improvisation. We played around with a couple of different piano settings before Rosalie settled on the more organ-like sound, and I had found an interesting riff to explore, and then we just played with no heed to what the melody might be, or how much time we needed. 


During this kind of improvisation, I sink into the music and stop hearing it so much as seeing it due to the fact that I have a form of synesthesia which makes reading music (visual) extremely challenging for me. When I improvise, I can see the shapes of music, and the movement, and I can see how what I’m doing fits into it geometrically, but there’s no easy translation for what I see with what is written as typical musical notations. So we played and when we got to the end, I say, “Okay,” which I left in the track. That was the take. 


I worked on the vocals a few days later, struggling to find the sound that would go with the background, working by ear, and growing increasingly frustrated until, with a slight adjustment in how I was seeing my vocals, I tuned into where and how I wanted the melody to go into the shape of the music Rosalie and I had created together. The background vocals took more redoing, and fussing with the mixing and whatnot, but the main body of this song was put together swiftly. 


Emotionally, this song is a testament to how even close, soulmate relationships don’t completely expunge the feelings of sadness and isolation people can experience. Sometimes all we can do is sit with someone through those times in a comfortable companionship that you wish would always be there, even if it includes the ever-present Blues.”

~ Wendy Kheiry

I Drowned

In the bog I lay

Sinking deeper into sludge

Wrapped in silt and mud

Dampened by these roots and reeds

Birds on rushes singing dirge

A heron standing vigil on the shore

I sing I scream no longer

Muted underwater

Dragonflies dancing in the air

Above me darting daring

And deeper dreaming me

Opens eyes which cannot see

I’m made of clay and squirming things

Becoming grass and greener springs

Returned to source and sourceless born

Alive and dead and

Dead alive

My spirit mired in weighted worries

Sending up a single shoot

Without the mud no blooming blossomed

This concentrated beauty bridging

Otherworld and worldly others

Unfolded petals worshipping the sun

Floating on serenity and calm

I was undone

Shaped and molded

Celestial bonded

Seeking heaven

Rising from this shrouded wetland

Just to hold your hand

Just to hold your hand

white flower on body of water
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

Did You Mind

Did you mind your manners

Did you mind the wait

Do you mind the suffering

Does your mind abate

Have you played your role

Did you take the stage

Have you danced all night

Do you mind your age

Will you mind the changes

That arrive by fate

Will the chance encounters

Bring you to your knees

Do the winds of fortune

Blow in gale or breeze

Will you rise and fly

Or hunker and sink

Are you digging a grave

Do you mind a drink

Have you planned to live

Are you well resigned

For an end is near

Whether life or time

Have you packed your bags

Are you ready for boarding

Did you mind the flight

Are you disembarking

The end is nigh

The end is night

Here comes the sun

A morning bright

Will you begin again

And again begin

With the sweeping dawn

After settling dusk

A new moon

A strange horizon

Do you mind the time

Do you mind the times

Do you mind the mind

Ghosts of Ghosts

It’s happened before

After moving

To see the hint of a friend from before

In a person I’m meeting for the first time

Just a ghost of a ghost

A common curve of the chin

Combined with a curiously familiar tilt of the head

It’s that guy’s eyes who remind my of a mentor

And that one’s shape of his head and how his teeth flash

When he laughs

Which whispers to me of another

It’s in a gesture reminiscent that she used

Which tells me a story of time long passed

Not for the first time have I wondered if the Universe

Ran out of templates

Cobbling together new people from bits of the old ones

We’re not snowflakes formed crystalline from moisture

In the frozen air

Unique

We are passed down and spliced and rearranged

Through the complex genetic shuffling

We are mirrors of each other

We are spirits grounded

We are expressions of something more than ourselves

And we are haunted

By ghosts of ghosts

Carefully knitting the past to the future

With present yarns

Pencils, Ink, and Pencils: Something Like A Story

Feverish, I had walked through the heat

Antibiotics to fight the battle within me

Waited for me at a counter

I had never been there

And walked passed the stairs

What kind of drugstore has an upstairs

The security person redirected me

I got my medicine and looked around

Finding readers

I took them downstairs with me

After looking to see in every corner

What I might need in the future

It’s within walking distance

Easy to get to

Easy to pass by there coming or going

From the campus, the park, the wherever

Security guy approached

You don’t want to buy those here

He said as I looked at the set of colored pencils

In a back corner

I worked security and loss prevention

I know what he’s thinking

It’s the middle of the work day

I have a visible tattoo and wild hair

And a feverish sheen

From the fever

I’m in a back corner holding a paper bag

With my prescription in it

And readers he thinks I can’t afford

After having moved swiftly through

Every high value (and low value) area

Of the store

He gently takes them from my hand

The readers

I walk with him away from the colored pencils

He is a hero saving the store from theft

In his mind

And he has in reality thwarted the sale of both the readers

And the colored pencils

I let him play out his story

“I thought they were like just $3.”

I tell him

I’m feverish, but not above a little fun

We walk back upstairs where he shows me

The prices

“I must have been looking at the strength and thought

it was the cost”

I tell him

Go to another store, he names a competitor

You can get them there for less

I wonder if his managers know he is throwing sales away

He will tell them he prevented theft

I leave frustrated with no readers

Which I need if I’m to go swimming with one of my friends

And wear my contacts

No colored pencils to shade in my drawings

Full of regret and longing but needing to rest

And take my medicine and cool off

My roommate dropped by there a few days later

What did you need here? she texted

I tell her where the colored pencils are in the store

She brings home a 3-pack of readers too

Because we both need them at times

My fever is gone

The pencils are treasured now

And that guy, he may never know

How close he was to something wonderful

Someone valuable

He may never know that things are not always

What they seem

That sometimes we need readers

To see clearly

Sooner rather than later

Even if the cost is a little more

Graphite pencil, ink, and colored pencils from the drugstore