lyrics

As If #NPM

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

As If

As if your shoulder brushing against my breast

in a crowded room meant anything to me…

As if your smile would thaw my frosty heart…

As if your constant assurance could overcome my cynicism…

As if the invisible boulevard would never rise up and beckon.

The street lamp glows in the bleached mist only three floors below us.

I blow streams of smoke into the black night and hum to the drone of the unseen road.

Be steel my bleating heart!

Be quiet! Be silent, hard steel.

As if wearing your tee-shirt made us lovers.

You can listen here.

From Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

A Little More Time

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Hi y’all 🙋🏼‍♀️

My apologies for not blogging more but I have seriously been busy. I’m talking BiZZy!

We are just getting the house back to normal after February’s winter storm, Uri. I’m not sure why it’s (unofficially) referred to as Uri? 🧐

I did a web search and unless I overlooked a reasonable definition-I found nothing that applied to the ice storm. Feel free to educate me.

Anywho we are getting back to normal. Haller-lu-ya!!

[doing the happy dance]

So before I get busy this morning getting the yard and pond back in shape I will leave you with a #TBT.

A Little More Time was written in 1980 something, originally published in Pose Prose & Poems in 1998 and republished in the 2017 poetic memoir called Getting Me Back

A Little More Time

There’s an eagle out there soaring And my best friend is out whoring

Turning tricks of any kind

Doing anything to make a dime God forgive her for the crime

All she needs is a little more time.

On the roof three stories high

A junky cries and begs to die

Ain’t had a fix in several days Swears he can’t go on this way

Across the street a church bell chimes

Grant us please a little more time.

An old man sick and dying

Alone with no one crying

He grieves for all the pain he’s caused

For all the people that he’s lost

Outside the window painted mimes All rushing for a little more time

A woman labors down the hall

Her anguish echoes through the wall

But soon a laughter takes its place When she looks upon the baby’s face

For a moment all is sublime

As we are given a little more time

Don’t Blink (Lyrics are Poetry Too)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment
Bear with me, I am feeling a little [selfish] nostalgia today. I’m not sorry either. Ahhh, I am wallowing in this stuff. No worries mate, I am still promoting poetry for National Poetry Month.
That boy is a teenager now and those sweet dogs are no longer with us.
Remember, lyricists are poets and lyrics are poems too.

…

Don’t blink
Just like that you’re six years old and you take a nap and you
Wake up and you’re twenty-five and your high school sweetheart becomes your wife
Don’t blink
You just might miss your babies growing like mine did
Turning into moms and dads next thing you know your “better half”
Of fifty years is there in bed
And you’re praying God takes you instead
Trust me friend a hundred years goes faster than you think
So don’t blink

…

Full lyrics can be seen at: YouTube

Songwriters: Chris Allen Wallin / Casey Michael Beathard

Singer: Kenney Chesney

TBT (A Poem & A Picture)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment
A Little More Time was written in 1980 something, originally published in Pose Prose & Poems in 1998 and republished in the 2017  poetic memoir called Getting Me Back

A Little More Time

There’s an eagle out there soaring

And my best friend is out whoring

Turning tricks of any kind

Doing anything to make a dime

God forgive her for the crime

All she needs is a little more time.

On the roof three stories high

A junky cries and begs to die

Ain’t had a fix in several days

Swears he can’t go on this way

Across the street a church bell chimes

Grant us please a little more time.

An old man sick and dying

Alone with no one crying

He grieves for all the pain he’s caused

For all the people that he’s lost

Outside the window painted mimes

All rushing for a little more time

A woman labors down the hall

Her anguish echoes through the wall

But soon a laughter takes its place

When she looks upon the baby’s face

For a moment all is sublime

As we are given a little more time

Weekly Photo Challenge (Solitary)

/ Janna Hill / 3 Comments

This week’s photo challenge is titled Solitary. Though solitary is defined as: solitude, alone, secluded, singular or without companions the word itself conjures a multitude of images.

I immediately imagine a one man game of cards, confinement, loneliness, punishment and isolation. Well those things along with an old song ‘Countin’ Flowers on the Wall’ overlapping the imageries

Yet what I chose to submit is an empty chair. Now I sit alone pondering what that means (if anything) while I scroll through the other intriguing submissions and wonder what solitary means to so many others.

Alone in the Woods

Here is an excerpt from the lyrics of Countin’ Flowers on the wall.

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don’t bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don’t tell me I’ve nothing to do

P.S.  A personal tidbit. Dour Number IIII was inspired by these very woods. Just beyond the barn in the background another world exists.