That’s his wife this man is singing with.
A few nights ago I attempted to write a song for a local band. I failed. Even while writing it, I knew it was no good. The moments leading up to the attempt were good. The passion, the piercing thoughts, but the writing of the thoughts didn’t produce quality. There was nothing in the song that felt alive.
I text my friend, the vocalist in his band, and told him I had tried and failed. I laughed and even enjoyed the feeling of the failure. I’ve never been afraid to fail. To not try at all would be the true failure. I’ll try again. I have confidence I can write a song. Even while writing poorly I had confidence that I could do better. That’s the thing about life. To know something that nobody else knows and to understand it completely and to finally make it be what you knew it could be. I’ve never written a song before. I still haven’t. But, I will.
I hope your day treats you well,
View my published work here:
A few don’t know how to
process our writing.
They think we’re bad
people. I’m OK with that.
I can only write what I know. The rest is like music floating away.
I don’t want to think about that right now-
I want to listen to my open window
I want to listen to the street
I want to hear the wind blowing the tops of the trees
I want to smell the air
I can hear the pushing wind driving into the leaves that are left over
from the winter drop
I wonder why they hung on
When we watch greatness
is it not what you wanted to see?
The ball sailing exactly the way it ought to
A breast milking a baby
Music planting seeds of life
Rain smacking the cement
Mud running with water
A women glances
We listen as the wind
tells us to run
to run as though it’s
a new night-time
We can never remember
to forget again-