My boys and the essence of a song

This is going to be a very boring post.

You know how you have those songs which, at times in your life, completely and aptly describe your situation? Well, there's this beautiful song by Fiona Apple called 'Shadowboxer', that I used to love. I listened to it nonstop and then suddenly grew tired of it. One day, recently, I was in the shower and playing music on my oh-so-cool phone and loudly singing along while washing my hair, and this song suddenly pops up. I'd completely forgotten that it was still on my playlist on the phone and it gave me a little frisson of happiness (or something like it) to listen to it again.

And as the song played and I sang along, I realised how perfectly, incredibly apt it was regarding not 1 or 2 but 3 men in my life! I empathise with every line in the song right now. Which is why I'm so enamoured by this idea, because there have been many songs that I have identified with but there are always some lines or words that do not gel for me. This one does.

So here are the words and I'll try to link the song as well.

Shadowboxer - Fiona Apple

Once my lover, now my friend
What a cruel thing to pretend
What a cunning way to condescend
Once my lover, now my friend

Oh, you creep up like a cloud
And you set my soul at ease
Then you let your love abound
And you bring me to my knees

Oh, its evil,babe,the way you let your grace enrapture me
When, well, you know, I'd be insane -
To ever let that dirty game recapture me

You made me a shadowboxer, baby
I wanna be ready for what you do
I been swinging all around me
cause I don't know when you're gonna make your move

Oh, your gaze is dangerous
And you fill your space so sweet
If I let you get too close,
You'll set your spell on me

So, darlin', I just wanna say
Just in case I don't come through
I was on to every play
I just wanted you

But, oh, its so evil, my love,
The way you've no reverence to my concern
So, Ill be sure to stay wary of you, love,
To save the pain of once my flame and twice my burn

You made me a shadowboxer, baby
I wanna be ready for what you do
I been swinging all around me
cause I don't know when you're gonna make your move

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVpHFLF2gNY

Here you go.

And as for the boys, you know who you are.

Birthday Blues

I wrote this song when i was depressed on my birthday (obviously).


It’s that low-down, no-good, heartbreakin’ feelin’, that’s fillin’ my soul today…
But if its cause of a boy
Or a broken toy,
And I don’t know why I’m so forlorn, on the day that I was born…
I just don’t want to see the light of day…


It’s that low-down, no-good, heartbreakin’ feelin’, that’s fillin’ my soul today…
And the only clues,
Are the blues?
And I don’t know why, I’m so dismayed, on the day that I was born,
I just don’t want to see the light of day…

And whether it’s a passing afternoon,
Or just another bad day, come too soon,
It’s the paper bag of my heart,
That wants to fly away…

It’s that low-down, no-good, heartbreakin’ feelin’, that’s fillin’ my soul today…
Don’t want to spoil the chance,
For an unasked dance, (something romance)
And I don’t know why, I’m so mixed up, on the day I was born,
I just don’t want to see the light of day…

It’s that low-down, no-good, heartbreakin’ feelin’, that’s fillin’ my soul today…
And all I want to do, is sing a song or two,
All alone in the harebrained jungle of my mind,
Or go swimming in a deserted pool, just unwind,
If I cant have that boy, that toy,
I don’t know what those blues clues signify…
And over the unasked dance I cry…
I just don’t want to see the light of day…

And whether it’s a passing afternoon,
Or just another bad day, come too soon,
The paper bag of my heart,
Just wants to fly away…

Broken

I feel you slipping through my grasp.
like sand through my fingers,
tiny fragments of your being,
crash to the ground at my feet, and splinter,
so why, tell me why, is it that i'm the one,
who feels so broken.

Your hand is lying in mine,
but your heart is far away,
and the pleasure i should feel
of having you by my side,
is shattered, ruined, damaged
by your love.

You let yourself walk away,
i want to run, catch up,
beg and plead, on bended knee,
cant think of anything that
would keep your love
entwined with mine

And I feel you slipping through my grasp.
like sand through my fingers,
tiny fragments of your being,
crash to the ground at my feet, and splinter,
so why, tell me why, is it that i'm the one,
who feels so broken.

Loweship has beed came fer me

let me open u up and slip inside,
let me caress every curve, the soft bits...and the hard.
let me turn you on, make you quiver.
let me take you around the world overnight.
sometimes slow and soft, sometimes hard and fast.
until youre falling apart, then ill take you home.
let me put you under the sheets, let me tuck you in.
let me, let me, let me, let me. let me drive you tonight.
My lumbering purple chevy impala.











...And i thought no one ever wrote me lowe songs. :P

Poetry With Young People

When I was in boarding school, we had a poet come stay with us - Gieve Patel. He made us listen to poetry and inspired us to write some too.
The following two poems are mine which were recently published in a book called Poetry With Young People, edited by Gieve Patel.


My Mother Before Her Morning Cup Of Tea

The eyes flash,
Like a lighthouse,
Against the expose of (her)the cheeks,
Her breath comes out short and fast -
A sea about to erupt from her bed.


Trapped

I stared at myself in the mirror,
Wanting to free (me)myself,
Yet, as hard as I tried
to peel off the layers
accumulated,
I couldn't;
(I was) Trapped
By my own biases,
And those of my peers.



These are the edited versions of the poems. The originals are slightly different but I felt and still feel that it makes all the difference. The brackets indicate what I had written originally.

3 AM Blues

I'm almost violently ill with emotion.
but still happy, sad, pleased, amused, longing
drowning in the pool of feelings,
gladly slipping away into the beyond,
my body and a part of my mind reacts normally,
and the rest of me is a purple and silver,
gauzy dress floating, in layers,
all around me, like a tent, covering me,
allowing my arms to slip through the sleeves,
my head to push through the neck of the dress,
draping me, becoming me,
but is that who I really am?
is that who I'm meant to be?
or who I long to be?
or will I wake up to another tomorrow?

Cinnamon Oil (In Your Eyes)

It's a golden sunset, pulling you under
It's Mondays child, full of wonder
It's liquid gold, a shimmering hue
It's a story untold, beckoning to you.

It's a candy coated dream, sugary sweet,
It's the soft rubbing of palms against your feet,
It's a handful of pills to put you to sleep
It's not looking four ways before you take the leap.

And when you feel you're a fraud and nobody cares,
When you feel like you're dead, but hope's always there,
When your eyes are burning with the sweet smell of spice
And when all you can rely on is the roll of the dice,
It feels like you've got cinnamon oil in your eyes.

It's the flame inside you that flickers and dies,
It's the spark inside you that kindles and incites.
It's pain and its joy, ecstasy and sorrow,
It's yesterdays dreams that speak of tomorrow.

And when you feel you're a fraud and nobody cares,
When you feel like you're dead, but hope's always there,
When your eyes are burning with the sweet smell of spice
And when all you can rely on is the roll of the dice,
It feels like you've got cinnamon oil in your eyes.


Song I wrote. Anybody got a tune for it?