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Freshly Brewed (Poetry Book Excerpt)

I was loved once

Not by the woman who bore me

Nor by the one who raised me

Not by the man who acquired me

Nor by the one who may not know I exist

I was loved by ghosts

Goddesses and gods

Spiders and birds

Trees and flowers

I was loved once by a dream

And once again by a song

Though I learned to love people

I did not know

I might still not know

How to be loved

It is a skill taught so young that those who learn

Forget it was ever a lesson

***

J’ai été aimée une fois

Pas par la femme qui m’a porté

Ni par celle qui m’élevé

Pas par l’homme qui m’atenue

Ni par lui qui me sait pas si j’existe

J’ai été aimée par les fantômes

Déesses et dieux

Les araignées et les oiseaux

Des arbres et des fleures

J’ai été aimée une fois par un rêve

Et une fois par une chanson

Même si j’ai appris a aimer les personnes

Je ne savais pas

Je ne sais peut-être tourjours pas

Comment être aimée

C’est une competence à prendue quand on est si jeune que ceux qui l’apprendre

Oblient que c’etait une fois une leçon

***

Excited to be working with a translator for this introduction, and the section introductions to my poetry book Freshly Brewed, a coffee table poetry book about objectification, trauma recovery, learning to relate to other people, relationships, and coffee. Point of view is often from the coffee.

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Tail Ends

There were stories told about her hair

How dangling out the window curved

A brave lover dared to climb

Who woo’d her time and time again

Until she fled captivity

Did she bundle up her locks to flee

Did she sheer them off and hide the key

Did she stay the course with lover dear

Or did she veer away when the path was clear

Around the campfires late at night

They sing the tale of tail’s poor plight

How clumps and strands of golden locks

Were found within the Bear’s porridge

Wrapped around the table and every chair

Mounded on each size of cot

No footprints leaving through the mud

The theory is she’d had enough

Grew wings and to the skies she took

This is how the golden eagle came to be

When we reach the end of gilded tails

Look up and tell me what you see

golden eagle
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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Behind the Songs: Mixtures Poetica Preview Tracks

Previews of the tracks for the upcoming album Mixtures Poetica album are now posted on SoundCloud with more to come in the following weeks.

Mixtures Poetica is the follow up album to the previously released EP Poetic Mixtures which was an exploration of audio techniques combining poetic elements with soundscapes for mood and setting, and can be found on many platforms.

One of the things I love about Puddle of Words (written first on this very blog here) is that it really captures the essence for me of how books can pull you right into them, and the invitation to read together. Those favorite books are the ones we want our people to read and share in the story, the experience, the characters!

With Eternal Constellation, I really struggled to capture the feel and texture and delivery that I wanted for it. I woke up one morning with the idea for a stronger speaking element, and the resulting track has an irony about it that emphasizes how a step towards self-centeredness (being true to self and one’s intuition) combats people pleasing conformity, but there has to be balance so that becoming self-centered (in the selfish sense) is avoided.

I had a lot of fun making these, and enjoy listening to them. I hope you enjoy them too!

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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)
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Behind the Song: It Don’t Matter To Me – Rosalie Robison

“‘It Don’t Matter To Me’ was originally written as a poem, yet the music behind it stayed lodged in my head for years. I believe the words in this song were the first song lyrics I put to music. However, composing the piano accompaniment didn’t happen until recently when we recorded for the album “Patchwork Blue”. Oddly, when I retrieved this poem from an old notebook, I found other poems that also spoke song and will use these poems to create new songs.


The theme, obviously love won/lost, is universal and would appeal to that mindset. It is a song tribute to how we lose love, then find it, then lose it again, and find it again…a love song, a blues song, a heart breaker, a plea breaker. We can deny it doesn’t matter one way or another, but it does.”

Rosalie Robison

To listen on Apple or Spotify

Lyrics Here

Patchwork Blue Album
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Dismantled

Apart came the cassette player

Tiny screwdriver unwinding tiny screws

The music box with the ballerina

Slowly spinning static above red satin

The fabric tugged out carefully

A mysterious mechanism released from its hold

No longer attached

Free

The work took place in secret

Spaces during times unlikely

To be distubed

Taking it all apart

How romantic

To try and see how it all worked

Springs and metal tines

And a spindle with well positioned bumps

Made music for the dancer

Why did she dance

How could she not

But

I was stymied at the circuit board

For recording every note

A small city with sculptured silver pyramids

Barrel buildings on their sides held aloft on metal legs

How poetic

To wonder what mysteries were held

In the little spaces

Colored beads of wonder

Against the green

And to put it back together

And to insure that it would work

Nothing broken

Nothing loose

No shred of evidence behind

Tiny tools were hidden

Until the next time

woman in black and white dress walking on gray concrete stairs
Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.com
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Less

Add courage less the fear

Love without the doubt

Thinking minus worry

Multiply your friends

Exponential family

Don’t divide to win

Art in symmetry

Asymmetrical poetry

A musical intermission

Imagine if you will

Trust and faith and hope

With every inhale love

With every exhale love

Less the pain

Less the pain