Love and a song named “Hero”

Oh yikes, I did it again. My gorgeous Irish gal arrived here tonight with apologies and a poem she wrote for me and I caved yet again. The last time we saw each other, she smacked me in the face and I told her never to come back. She was knocking on the door Sunday night and I played asleep, but tonight, different story. I can’t help it. I love that redheaded woman of mine, no matter what. And she apparently loves me too, fairly unconditionally.

She’s gone back to her place to feed her dog then she’s coming back here. Our personalities sometimes clash pretty bad, but Amber could have pretty much any guy she wanted and she apparently has chosen me.

Today is her birthday and I had no present because we were broken up, so after she headed back to feed the dog, I made her a rose bud out of aluminum foil. She’ll get it when she gets back.

For a Cancer, she is very fiery, she must have some Leo or Aries pretty strong in her birth chart. I’m a Scorpio with a moon in Scorpio too, so her fire governed by Cancer emotions mixed with my moody  heavy Scorpio passion can get volatile, and the words, like bolts from a bow, can be fired with dangerous precision. But I love her, like no other.

It’s her birthday and we have been broke up for a few weeks and she has chosen to spend it with me. That means something to me and it strums an emotional chord deep within me. Like I’ve mentioned, she’s not hurting for guys to ask her out, she’s gorgeous and fun, but she has chosen me. That means more than I can say. And I will forget about the slap in the face. She’s never been physically violent before and neither have I, so I’ll treat it as a desperate measure in a rough time.

She should be back fairly soon I think, so I should wrap this up. I’ll add a song for the moment and night that both Amber and I love. The video is very cool too with Mickey Rourke. Enrique Iglesias, Hero.

A song named “Trust” with a few rambling words.

My music playing is finished for the night. The grain spirits have cursed my with slipping coordination on my more complex music, whether it by guitar or piano. Actually, after the numbness of alcohol and hydrocodone, with some psychotropic, shrink drugs thrown in mellows enough to get my fingers back to 95%, rather 80%, it’ll be the best time to write. connected with my emotions and free to do with them as I will. And I chose to throw them into music.

Again, I’m listening to the playback of some of my piano work. Keyboard is the easiest to record, my Yamaha will save hours of music I write, then I plug it into the recorder and it’s done. I wish the bass and guitar were that easy. I have the settings for recording direct from the keyboard down, so all I have to do is push record. With the axe and bass, there’s a microphone, amp volume, trim and a whole lot of other shit to get just right. Somehow, with my keyboard, I’ve found a near perfect setting, but with the axe and bass it depends on a few things, because I use several different sound settings.

Anyway enough of my rattling on, it’s time to put someone else’s music up, Megadeth Trust. An excellent song for the inebriated and womanless by choice, especially as I deliberate smoking her bag of weed that she left over here. This song hits way too close to home with Amber and I and she will never step foot in my house again, even when I’m drunk.

Now that Dave Mustaine tune,

It Dies

Here’s a little poem that I found today, I had forgotten this one. It’s about a year old and has never made it out of my bed side journal, but I think it should see the light of day for others to read. It’s about the death of a 12 year relationship and marriage.

It Dies

Once the words all bleed away,

slowly, it dies.

A silent, contained fury seeps.

Then it dies,

with nothing more to say.

When The Night Comes Down.

I love having my music room and office in the same space. I can write on my scoundrelous abuse of literature, my poems, and man diary which some show up here Then swivel my chair from my desk to my keyboard, the musical kind that is, and escape there for a while. Or I can get off my ass and grab one of my guitars, my favored instrument, probably not the neighbors favorite though. If I have a mini fridge in here, I could live in this room, because if I get enough drinks out of that fridge, I’d have no problem “sleeping” on the floor.

Right now, I’m listening to the piano track on what is already one of my top five songs. I’ve got the bass line written, but not recorded. The guitar, there are three very distinct pieces that I have to either chose from or work into one with a lot of room. Lyrics? I got nothin’.

It’s time to nurse that drinking and pill popping problem again. So here’s some old school Judas Priest, When The Night Come Down. I’m going to see if I do drink enough to comfortably “sleep” on my music room/office floor. The result of a Friday night spent alone.

Green Eyed Demon.

A little poem about  witnessing jealousy as it plays out it’s dangerous course.

Green Eyed Demon

I recognized her reaction,

as one I’d watched once before,

turn and sour.

False face forward,

green eyes smiling,

green eyes lying,

as envy churns and devours.

A lie called love

Yikes, I just wrote probably my second best piece of music ever. And the neighbors have been hearing me develop it all day so far. It has a very deep bluesy piano piece and the guitar is a sometimes blisteringly fast fusion lead that keeps the soulfully sad mood that the piano creates.

It’s easy enough to record the piano, because my full size Yamaha keyboard  can save all my shit for me, but the guitar, that’s a pain to record. There’s a lot of button and nobs  involved, so it’s easier just to remember the feel of it and improvise.

Anyway, I think this is why no poetry has surfaced here. The creativity was fighting to explode on the piano and the axe was waiting to supplement it with some smokin’ but cool and soulful leads. It’s out now, so maybe some lyrics will come too. I’ve titled it A Lie Called Love.

“Black Sunrise”

Song of the day, for today, Black Sunrise by Kreator. I promise a poem, or lyrics to a new song of mine later.

“Save Me”

I’m about to change things here a bit. I neglected this little record of my thoughts for some time now because I had another blog detailing my scoundrelous dealing with life and love. I got sick of it, the lifestyle and blog that recorded it so I’m back to this one. The poetry will continue, but also I’ll be adding music picks of the day too, that coincide with my thoughts and moods.

First of, today, a song about opiate addiction, which I thinly have under control at the moment, and it works for alcoholism too. Stay away from them both and quack Drs. who give you whatever poison you want. Love is a much better opiate.

Anyway, Shinedown with Save Me. A poem from me about addiction later.

A Dark Night’s Prayer

A quick poem before I escape to dreams

A Dark Night’s Prayer.

The shadow drapes down over me.

Night, in her essence of silence,

slips over the stain.

Mother night,

or Mother Mary,

Come down upon me

and relieve the shame.

Of Decadence And Deceit.

A short poem to a love lost.

Of decadence and deceit

A word, a whisper,

a lie to belive.

A precious friend lost

from lust and deceit.

The aftermath quiets

and again I’m alone.

Cold and silent

as an ending is sewn