Today is the fourth Tuesday of the month, and time again for another "2-fer-Tuesday" prompt:
_______ of the heart
and/or
Heart of the _______
So, as I am wont to do, I picked both... and for your dining and dancing pleasure:
THE JOY OF THE HEART
(THE HEART OF THE JOY)
© 2024 G. Smith (BMI)
=================================
A girl in eastern Tennessee;
Let’s just call her Kate,
Met a boy from up the holler,
His folks called him Nate.
Her daddy was a circuit preacher,
Presbyterian, I recall;
His daddy was a whisky maker,
Known to cuss and brawl.
They met one day in late July,
As they passed through Pigeon Forge,
When they came face to face on the bridge,
That crossed the river gorge.
Oh, they’d met before, a time or two,
And always here in town,
But something happened then and there,
That turned their lives around.
The joy of the heart,
The heart of the joy.
That one special spark,
Between a girl and a boy.
Where it all begins and
Where it all ends.
Where nothing can alter,
And nothing destroy;
The joy of the heart, and the heart of the joy.
Like Romeo and Juliet,
Their folks did not agree,
Nate’s dad and his moonshine,
Katie’s with his tea.
And what each saw in the other,
Is anybody’s guess,
But unlike Juliet and Romeo,
Things worked out for the best.
The joy of the heart,
The heart of the joy.
That one special spark,
Between a girl and a boy.
Where it all begins and
Where it all ends.
Where nothing can alter,
And nothing destroy;
The joy of the heart, and the heart of the joy.
Katie went on to college,
And got a nursing degree;
Nate got a job at the hardware store,
And they stayed in Tennessee.
Their fathers never got along,
But they knew one thing was true;
That what they had in common,
Started when their kids both said, “I do.”
The joy of the heart,
The heart of the joy.
That one special spark,
Between a girl and a boy.
Where it all begins and
Where it all ends.
Where nothing can alter,
And nothing destroy;
The joy of the heart, and the heart of the joy.
Reply
G. C. Smith / Blog
JUST ANOTHER DAY
NO, not an "April 32" Poem-A-Day prompt and response... maybe the past month-and-a-day have me sensitized to ideas and such, and I do find myself missing the extra few minutes of my morning routine getting the prompts written down and scrawling thoughts and ideas and starts into my jot-journal, but, this just sort of fell out of my pen complete... maybe it'll become part of a bigger piece, but then again, maybe not...
JUST ANOTHER DAY © 2024 - G. Smith (BMI) =================== A baby cries, An elder dies, And the world goes on its way. A baby dies, An elder cries, And it's just another day.
𝖌
Reply
MIDNIGHT RESET
No, it's not day 31 to the 2024 APRIL POEM-A-(30)DAY CHALLENGE... it just so happens May 1 is a Wednesday following the Tuesday 4/30, and the weekly prompts from Poetic Asides and Sherwin-Williams were RESET and MIDNIGHT respectively...
Mashing the two together brought out the optimistic darkness in me...
MIDNIGHT RESET © G. Smith (BMI) ================ A long, long day, And a longer night; Why is we always, Seem to fight? Especially when things, Were going right? A long, long day, And a longer night.
But at twelve-oh-one, The new day’s begun, Long before, The rising sun, So, you run inside, While I hide out here and count, One hundred.
Out on the town, With some of the guys, I see you there; What a surprise! I’ll tell you the truth, That part of me dies, When I’m out on the town, With some of the guys.
But at twelve-oh-one, The new day’s begun, Long before, The rising sun, So, you run inside, While I hide out here and count, One hundred.
Another day, Another start; Another smile, Warms my heart. How can we end up, So far apart? Another day, Another start.
And at twelve-oh-one, A new day’s begun, Long before, The rising sun, So, you run inside, While I hide out here And count to, One hundred.
Reply
BETWIXT AND BETWEEN
The last day of the 2024 April Poem-A-Day challenge was also the fifth 2-fer-Tuesday prompt - in this case "THE END" and/or "BEGINNING"...
Tried to split the difference and came up with...
BETWIXT AND BETWEEN © 2024 G. Smith (BMI) =================== Born in Montgomery, Raised in Miami, Mobile’s where he finally lay down. Eighty years on this earth, From the day of his birth, He lived until he’d earned his crown.
Some days were diamonds, Some days had no rhyme and, No reason, they were simply a daze. But he worked and loved, Looked to heaven above, And went out in bright shining blaze.
From the first squalling cry, To the last heartbeat’s sigh, And all that lies, Betwixt and between, Is all that we’ve heard, Each song and each word, And everything we’ve ever seen. Betwixt and between, Betwixt and between, Everything lies, Betwixt and between.
Born in Marseille, She came to L.A., Pursuing a dream and a star. Twenty-seven years old, With a pot of fool’s gold, And fifteen year-old used-car.
But both of them faded, And she became jaded, And moved to the suburbs alone, But try as she might, Her dream wouldn’t take flight, And she couldn’t make it all on her own.
From the first squalling cry, To the last heartbeat’s sigh, And all that lies, Betwixt and between, Is all that we’ve heard, Each song and each word, And everything we’ve ever seen. Betwixt and between, Betwixt and between, Everything lies, Betwixt and between.
Reply
UNTIL THE RIVERS ALL RUN DRY
Well, next-to-the last Poem-A-Day prompt: Complete the phrase "UNTIL _____", make it the poem, and then write right away...
Here's what I noodled up between the commute and the day job... I hear it kinda solo acoustic guitar without frills...
UNTIL THE RIVERS ALL RUN DRY © 2024 G. Smith (BMI) =================== Until the sun won’t rise, Until the moon won’t set; And if the stars won’t shine, I will love you yet.
Until the rivers all run dry, Until the sky’s no longer blue, I will always love, You and only you. I will always love, You and always you.
Until the bell can be un-rung, And the sands of time have blown away, Until the song can be unsung, I will always say,
Until the sun won’t rise, Until the moon won’t set; And if the stars won’t shine, I will love you yet.
Until the rivers all run dry, Until the sky’s no longer blue, I will always love, You and only you. I will always love, You and always you.
Reply
NINETY MILES AN HOUR DOWN A DEAD END STREET
Today's prompt is the obverse to day 13's LIVING - i.e. DEAD...
Too many depressing opportunities - and here's what I came up with....
NINETY MILES AN HOUR DOWN A DEAD END STREET © 2024 G. Smith (BMI) =================== Up before the sunrise, Bolting out the door, Trying to beat the rush hour, Like every day before.
Cuppa joe in one hand, Backing out the drive, Heading in to work, For the same old nine-to-five.
Put in sixty hours, On a forty hour week, Bills to pay, mouths to feed, Playing hide-n-seek.
Chores galore in the great outdoors, Never get a sec, To watch the sunset, count the stars, Or sit and catch my breath,
I’m running ninety miles an hour down a dead end street. Burning the soles from the shoes on my feet; Barely slowing down to greet the people that I meet, Running ninety miles an hour down a dead end street. Ninety miles an hour down a dead end street.
I guess I’ve always known, I’m not the work I do, And though I do enjoy it, I’m nobody without you.
So climb in here beside me, Join me on the drive, We’ll turn and go the other way, Happy to be alive.
Quit running ninety miles an hour down that dead end street, Burning holes in the soles of the shoes on our feet. Start taking time to savor the moments oh, so sweet, Quit running ninety miles an hour down that dead end street. Quit running ninety miles an hour down that dead end street. Let’s mosey hand-in-hand and maybe stop and take a seat.
Reply
GRIEVIN' BLUES (KATIE, KATIE)
Today, the 27th of the month, prompted to write a "REMIX" of something written earlier - not necessarily this month, but I did, anyway... reworking Day 19's Grief into a blues format...
GRIEVIN’ BLUES (KATIE, KATIE) © 2024 G. Smith ============== Katie, Katie, I heard you passed away. Katie, Katie, I heard you passed away. This can’t be real – I saw you just the other day.
Katie, Katie, I can’t believe it’s true. Katie, Katie, I can’t believe it’s true. I can’t lie, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Katie, Katie, you always did so much for me. Katie, Katie, you always did so much for me. My heart is breakin’, I wish I’d treated you differently.
Katie, Katie, where’s the fairness in this pain? Katie, Katie, where’s the fairness in this pain? My heart is achin’ – I feel I’ll go insane.
Katie, Katie, what am I gonna do? Katie, Katie, what am I gonna do? On my own and living without you?
Katie, Katie, I know this pain will pass. Katie, Katie, I know this pain will pass. Still I know I’ll go on with a half-filled empty glass.
Reply
KNOW I WILL WAIT (OR WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY HINTS)
Had to address the poem today as a persona... so I selected my oldest friend - the FG-160 I bought with my first tax return...
KNOW I WILL WAIT (OR WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY HINTS) © 2024 G. Smith (BMI) =================== I sit in the corner, Always ready to play, No matter what time, No matter what day.
You sometimes think that I’m high-strung, Other times – not so much; Still you know I’ve always sung, At your slightest touch.
I know you’re distracted by things beyond practice, But early or late, know I will wait. Early or late, Know I will wait.
A heavy hand that strums and drums, Or strokes softly with your fingers; Ringing long and loudly, Or a whispering that lingers.
And we’ve traveled many places, Valley low to mountain high; Sharing your all your feelings, Fast or slow, laugh or cry; or sigh…
I know you’re distracted by things beyond practice, But early or late, know I will wait. Early or late, Know I will wait.
We shared the blues With Tommy and Hugh, And a jaunty jig. At a gig or two.
I know you’re distracted by things beyond practice, But early or late, know I will wait. Early or late, Know I will wait. Early or late, Know I will wait.
Reply
POUR POOR ME
Hadda use a homonym - a word that is spelled differently but sounds the same as another word (homophone), or a word with two (or more), different meanings, even though it may be pronounced differently (homograph)...
Well, being country influenced, and with apologies to Warren Zevon and Linda Ronstadt, here's
POUR POOR ME © 2024 G. Smith (BMI) ================= A rough day at the plant, The foreman went off on a rant, Afraid that I just can’t Take anymore, take anymore.
Bills piled high on the table, Most bear an “Overdue” label, Not so sure that I’ll be able, To pay anymore, pay anymore.
So, pour poor me another one, Just like the other one – or two, I’m feelin’ down and I think I’ll drown, My misery; In a drink or three, Or four. So, pour poor me Another one; Just like the other one, Or two.
Katie said she was gone, And so she was, with the dawn. Not sure how I’ll go on, I can't take anymore, can't take anymore.
So, pour poor me another one, Just like the other one – or two, I’m feelin’ down and I think I’ll drown, My misery; In a drink or three, Or four, So, pour poor me Another one; Just like the other one, Or two. Pour poor me another one, And put it on my tab.
Reply
CRANK IT UP!
To the Poem-A-Day prompt: MAXIMIUM...
CRANK IT UP! © 2024 G. Smith (BMI) =================== Warming up – sound check, Tuning up and swapping out – with the guitar tech.
Crowd comes in – lights go down, One, two, three, four! – Another highway town.
Crank it up! – to eleven, Shake the windows in their frames – all the way in heaven.
Crank it up! – play it loud, Let ‘em hear it in the last row – no matter what the crowd,
Crank it up! – knock ‘em off their feet, Get ‘em up and moving – dancin’ in their seats.
Crank it up! – shake the walls, From the smallest honky-tonk – to the largest concert halls.
Last song – encore! Leave ‘em as they’re leaving – always wanting more!
Crank it up! – to eleven; Rattle all the windows – all the way to heaven. Rattle all the windows – all the way to heaven. Rattle all the windows – all the way to heaven!
Reply
THE JOY OF THE HEART (THE HEART OF THE JOY)
Today is the fourth Tuesday of the month, and time again for another "2-fer-Tuesday" prompt: _______ of the heart and/or Heart of the _______
So, as I am wont to do, I picked both... and for your dining and dancing pleasure:
THE JOY OF THE HEART (THE HEART OF THE JOY) © 2024 G. Smith (BMI) ================================= A girl in eastern Tennessee; Let’s just call her Kate, Met a boy from up the holler, His folks called him Nate.
Her daddy was a circuit preacher, Presbyterian, I recall; His daddy was a whisky maker, Known to cuss and brawl.
They met one day in late July, As they passed through Pigeon Forge, When they came face to face on the bridge, That crossed the river gorge.
Oh, they’d met before, a time or two, And always here in town, But something happened then and there, That turned their lives around.
The joy of the heart, The heart of the joy. That one special spark, Between a girl and a boy. Where it all begins and Where it all ends. Where nothing can alter, And nothing destroy; The joy of the heart, and the heart of the joy.
Like Romeo and Juliet, Their folks did not agree, Nate’s dad and his moonshine, Katie’s with his tea.
And what each saw in the other, Is anybody’s guess, But unlike Juliet and Romeo, Things worked out for the best.
The joy of the heart, The heart of the joy. That one special spark, Between a girl and a boy. Where it all begins and Where it all ends. Where nothing can alter, And nothing destroy; The joy of the heart, and the heart of the joy.
Katie went on to college, And got a nursing degree; Nate got a job at the hardware store, And they stayed in Tennessee.
Their fathers never got along, But they knew one thing was true; That what they had in common, Started when their kids both said, “I do.”
The joy of the heart, The heart of the joy. That one special spark, Between a girl and a boy. Where it all begins and Where it all ends. Where nothing can alter, And nothing destroy; The joy of the heart, and the heart of the joy.
Reply