Song got Stuck

I sang Sing with
many others.
My voice hovered overhead
and joined my sisters and brothers.
When a choir sings love is expressed.
Love for singing and music
and understanding. 

Our voices express the love we feel.
for the freedom of song and
our friendships that form when we sing.

That thought was so beautiful
my song got stuck on my face
and my cheeks got wet.

Music and Poetry

Singing is my therapy.
Whenever anything bad happens to me
I will be singing or playing the piano.
It is not like I don’t care and
I am carefree and happy so I am enjoying some music.
No, I do this so I can lose myself in a familiar world
where the only thing that can hurt me is a discordant note.
Writing poetry is sort of like singing to me.
I just let my fingers prattle and see what happens.
Thank goodness for the arts.
They are my therapy.

High A? No Problem

I have got a new repertoire to learn.
The song ‘Hand in Hand’ has a High A in it.
I will sit at the piano and play the piece.
If I can go over and over the piece
and think of the High A as a low A
and relax and float to the note
maybe, hopefully, I will not only
perfect the song
but send the bad dreams
back where they belong.

Away from me.
Getting so tired of waking
up more tired than when I
went to bed.
Achieving a hign note is
easier than everything else
right now.

Keep On Going

What stops me giving up
when I feel there is no hope?
When I feel I am never going to have
my Jen home as sane as
she can be I start to write
and then I don’t feel so unhappy.
My friends are not far away.
I can turn my music on,
practice my songs,
listen to song files
and get doing things.
Anything to stay busy.
Sometimes there will be
shadows of doubt hiding
between my words but
I know if I can hold on
and stay positive
I think I can last
until my Jen is back with me.

Music is my Comforter

When I am down and depressed
I hang on by listening to music.
I sit on the edge of the stave,
and let my legs hang down or
I use the lower rungs to steady myself.
I enjoy the music.

It feels like flying when the music lifts me up.
Or I jump off the rung where my feet are resting
and sing to feel at one with the music.
The music lifts me and I float on its kind arms.
I rest in the music.

Even though I go through hard times
the music softens the pain and
is my comforter.

Is It True?

I love to sing.
I pour all my feelings into
the words which are mixed
up with the notes and it gives
me a lot of pleasure but

Is it true?
He tells me I am a terrible singer.
He says it sounds like what you
hear from one of those mosques.
The wailing that erupt from
those hot, dusty walls.

I know I am happy when I sing.
I am pretty much the happiest
when I open my mouth and
my true self emerges.
No pretence, no fakeness, just me.

I try to get my diction right with
the vowels and consonants.
I sing in Singlish so the words are not
disjointed and not blended.
I can sing both high and low notes,
in fact I can sing 4 octaves but

Is it true?
I can’t sing?
If that is true I don’t see much point in anything.
It makes me sad but if it is true
I may as well stop.

No. I am better than this.
I will keep on singing because there
is at least one person who my singing
gives a lot of pleasure to and that is me.

So I will never singing louder than lovely
and I will quieten down.
Not so loud. Vertical positioning of mouth
and singer’s position.

I will get there. I will keep on going.

Life is not just about me

Why do i tell everybody about my discovery?
I tell them because living in this world
is not just about me.
Singing is my balm
to life’s sharp thorns.
Experiences in life
tear my heart to shreds.
When i sing, the words
are just for me.
They soothe the soul
and mend the heart.
How can I not tell other people?
Living in this world
is not just about me.