The One That Got Away

Clive Davis was once famously referred to as the “Man with the Golden Ears”. The stable of artists he discovered or nurtured is vast, making him a legend in the music business. Janis Joplin, Aerosmith, Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel are just a few iconic names from the list of music royalty influenced by Davis.

The task for this week’s Song Lyric Sunday is simple, select a song by an artist that was discovered, nurtured or produced by Clive Davis. I am going to step outside the box and stretch the rules a little. The post will most certainly be related to Clive Davis but the artist was not a Clive Davis product. Instead, I have chosen to focus on someone who auditioned for Davis but he chose to pass on as discussed in a 2017 interview with Rebecca Jarvis on the ABCNews’ weekly show Real Biz.

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Growing Old

I have been sick for just over a week now and find myself tardy for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest. I’ve read everyone else’s wonderfully terrible work and thought I’d submit a late submission. Hope you enjoy my terrible attempt at Burlesque poetry.

Growing old
If I may be so bold
Is a fate that really does blow
Things start to leak
Nothing’s at peak
And ear hair begins to grow
The girls may be hot
But it’s all for naught
There’s nary a twitch down below
My backs gone out
I’ve a bout o’ the gout
How I got here, I just don’t know

If I may be frank
Damn, my mind has gone blank
I barely remember my name
Gravity’s a drag
Pulling down on my bag
Wearing shorts only brings me shame
Life can be blunt
Getting old an affront
To how we once played the game
I’m a retiree
I’m well past my expiry
How did I get to be this damn lame


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The Benefits of Global Warming

Carbon, methane, nitrous,
An atmospheric breech.
If global warming goes uncheck,
You’ll find me up in Greenland,
Sunbathing on the beach!


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Better Off Dead

My head’s been set on fire,
My weary bones do ache,
I’m sizzlin’ hot to touch,
Still, I shiver and I shake.
With a scratch in my throat and,
A faucet for a nose,
That gets redder and more raw,
Every time it has to blows.

I’ve got blotches on my torso,
Itchy, scratchy and the such,
My palatine uvula is so swollen,
It’s becoming a little much.
I’ve burst blood vessels in my eye,
From coughing up a lung,
Don’t get me started on the back end,
Just get me a bloody bung.

My insides twisted up in knots,
Cramps eating at my gut,
Pressure building deep within,
Gases exploding from my butt.
I kneel before the Ivory throne,
Paying respect to the porcelain King,
I’ve eaten nothing in three days,
Still, I’m going to fill the thing.

I bolt awake at 2 a.m.,
Sweat streaming from my pores,
I’ve been lying here so bloody long,
I’m developing bedsores.
Not Tylenol or Advil or a combo of the two
Can soothe this pounding head,
Don’t know how much more I can take
I think I’d be better off dead!


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Whirlwind

I have not been feeling well, actually thought I may have contracted COVID despite three mRNA jabs but the Rapid Antigen Tests I’ve been doing daily keep showing up negative. Clearly, I have not been posting (or reading) over the last few days but I did dig up something that I wrote a few years ago when I purchased my first Surface Pro. It gave me an opportunity to play with the new stylus pen that came with the tablet.

I’m no artist but I just had to try and this poem is what I came up with. I saw a recent Sunra Rainz post where she had written a poem called The Sands of Time in the shape of an hourglass. It reminded me of this forgotten piece so I retrieved it from my OneDrive archive and dusted it off. The original idea for the poem was a funnel however it morphed into a tornado as I drew the grade one quality artwork. Both are fitting analogies, a funnel with the water representing life dripping out the bottom and a tornado representing the whirlwind that is life. The piece was unnamed at the time but as I put this post together, particularly the sentence before this one, I thought “Whirlwind” fit a pretty good description of life as we move through it much too quickly and so it is now titled.

Hope you enjoy it. I’ll be back soon.


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Like the Stars Miss the Sun

John Milton the English Poet and intellectual once said, The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a heaven of Hell, a hell of Heaven. Think of that statement and then think of song lyrics where Milton’s quote rings true. That is Jim at A Unique Name For Me has challenged us with Sunday Song Lyric Sunday. We are to explore the mind for this week’s theme. The songs should be about mind, thoughts and/or the brain.

Think song of bliss, euphoria, depression, suicide and addiction. Examples range from Ozzy Osbourne‘s Crazy Train to George Strait‘s Nobody In His Right Mind Would Have Left Her, from girl in red‘s Serotonin to Joy Division‘s She’s Lost Control, from Tears for FearsMad World to Patsy Cline‘s Crazy. There is no shortage of material to choose from that references the brain and the working of the mind.

This week I have chosen to highlight Lana Del Rey‘s haunting track “Summertime Sadness“. A song that skillfully weaves a tale of mental illness born from a deep loss. The track explores depression, while intertwining happy memories with thoughts of death and suicide. The accompanying music is eerily layered to evoke the sense of extreme melancholy the protagonist is experiencing.

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The Blood of War

This originally started as a reply to a post that Jim at A Unique Title for Me posted. It got me thinking about the broader context of government and in particular the idea that the people are accountable for the action of their government. In particular, Russians when it comes to Putin.

Yes, Vladimir Putin gave the order to invade Ukraine, the former Soviet republic that declared its independence on January 22nd, 1989. Putin has chosen this path not because of the excuses such as “denazification” or the perceived threat NATO presents to Russia if Ukraine achieves member status. It is all smoke and mirrors to hide the real reasons for Putin’s war, to turn back the clock to a bygone era. To return to some perceived Russian greatness that never really existed. He alone must answer to the world for his illegal actions in Ukraine and the war crimes he has committed in the name of Mother Russia.

I will say that from a world perspective I do not believe the international community and the allied countries of the West are doing enough to quell the Putin threat. Russian aggression in Ukraine has the eerie feel of Nazi Germany’s invasion of Poland in 1939. The parallels are well documented elsewhere and too many to list here. We the world must stand with Ukraine and prevent history from repeating itself.

I believe the Russian people are good people. Historically they have suffered immeasurable hardship. For the record, the Russian experience is not unique. Many other peoples in various parts of the world have suffered repeatedly at the hands of internal and external forces. That type of suffering creates a certain pathos that brings about insecurity in the people of a nation. It doesn’t require a great leap to see how people end up following someone like Putin who instills a sense of national pride by assuaging their collective vulnerabilities and making them feel whole again.

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Gravity

When I awoke
Your ghost before me
Laid upon a secret altar
Please, I beg you to explore me

Thunder crashing
A sea of sorrow
Drowning in a raging ocean
No hope for a new tomorrow

Sense the feeling
Surrender to me
I don’t need your words to
Free me
Caught between
Two worlds colliding
To the earth
Your lifeline sliding

For the ones who watch in wait
This time it might just be too late
Standing at the edge of creation
Hoping, praying for salvation

Sense the feeling
Surrender to me
I don’t need your words to
Free me
Caught between
Two worlds colliding
From the beginning
Your lifeline sliding


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Morning Ritual

“Where’s my textbooks? I have a test today.” Jamie screeched over his sister’s singing while grabbing her left earpiece.

“Wherever you left them, dumbo!” she shot back at a volume meant to compensate for the music in her head; playing so loud that we were all subjected to listen despite her headphones.

“Hey watch your mouth, Jeannie – – Babe, have you seen my bloody keys, I am going to be late!”

God damn it, every day is like groundhog day she thought as she responded on autopilot, “Check your coat, hun.”

When they were all finally gone she lit the spliff she’d rolled the night before and in the new quiet, pull in the same deep smoke filled breath she drew in every morning.

Holding her breath in as a euphoric wave of calm floods into her limbs; finally the world was in harmony with her.


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Into the Sun


Standing on the precipice,
Gravity pulls, my bones compress,
Wind rising from beneath,
Freedom screaming, “Take a leap.”

A few steps back, then start to run,
Jump off the edge, into the sun,
Hang for a moment, my senses quail,
Before the wind does kiss my sail.

A thermal rush, straight up I rise,
The Earth recedes before my eyes,
Into the blue that fills my mind,
The pull of gravity, long behind.

Turning left, a sweeping lilt,
The ground below a patchwork quilt,
Like majestic Andean condors,
Across the sky, my spirit soars…

A slow descent back to the ground,
Never want to come back down,
Another updraft, catch one last wave,
Before reclaimed as gravity’s slave.


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