My Daughter Describes the Tarantula 

Faith Shearin 

Her voice is as lovely and delicate as a web.

She describes how fragile they are,

how they can die from a simple fall.

Then she tells me about their burrows

which are tidy and dry and decorated

with silk. They are solitary, she tells me,

and utterly mild, and when they are

threatened they fling their hairs, trying

not to bite. She says they are most

vulnerable when they molt: unable

to eat for days while they change.

They are misunderstood, she explains,

and suddenly her description becomes

personal. She wants to keep one

as a pet, to appreciate it properly,

to build it a place where it belongs.

Spend a cup of coffee gazing at this painting.

A picture really is worth a thousand words.

Wisteria can pull down a house 

Marge Piercy 

The wisteria means to creep over the world.

Every day its long tendrils wave in the breeze,

seize the bench under its arbor, weave

round the garden fence obstructing

the path. Its arbor’s long outgrown.

Such avidity. Such greed for dominance.

It has already killed the Siberian irises

it shadowed, stealing all their sun.

Should I admire or resent? Neither.

I go out with loppers and hack and hack.

If it could, it would twine around my neck

like a python; like an angry giant squid

it would pull me into a strangling embrace.

I will grow back, it swears, and outlive you.

Its vigor outdoes mine. It will succeed.

Old Train

Herb Pederson

Old train I can hear your whistle blow

But I won't be jumping on again

Old train I've been everywhere you go

And I know what lies beyond each bend

   Old train each time you pass you're older than the last

   And it seems I'm too old for running

   I hear your rusty wheels grate against the rails

   They cry with every mile and I think I'll stay awhile

Old train I grow weary from the miles

And I'll miss the freedom that was mine

Old train just to think about those times

I'll smile when you're high-balling by

https://youtu.be/01dXTapnsgQ

Gary Ewer's blog post "It's Always About People" is well worth reading and remembering.

When Titanic the musical opened on Broadway in 1997, it closed a couple of years later after running for 804 shows. It lost money, even though it picked up 5 Tony awards. It wasn’t a huge hit, getting some positive but mostly negative reviews.

When Titanic the movie opened later in 1997, it was a smash box office hit. People couldn’t get enough of the story. It eventually earned 2.18 billion dollars.

There’s a big reason why when you say “Titanic”, people are as likely to think about the movie first, then the actual disaster. And almost no one talks about the musical.

It has to do with people.

To put it succinctly, Titanic the musical was about the Titanic. The writers told the story by focusing in on various characters, but few of the personal stories were compelling or at all powerful.Their story was about the ship, and it was a story that everyone who had even just a shallow knowledge of history already knew.

But Titanic the movie was primarily about an intense, over-the-top love affair between Jack and Rose. It focused on those two characters as the main story. Yes, it was taking place on the Titanic, and everyone knew what was going to happen to the ship.

But they didn’t know what was going to happen to Jack and Rose. In the telling of that story, audiences experienced every possible emotion that comes from that kind intense love affair: love, hatred, jealously, tenderness, abandonment, and sadness.

Oh right… and a ship sank as well.

And now, songwriting: If you’re planning write a song where the main focus of your attention doesn’t place people front and centre, you’re going to have the same problem that the makers of Titanic the musical had.

Many songwriters write about love, and so it’s easy to keep an emotional leash on your listeners. But if you’re writing about the following, your listeners may appreciate your writing, but lose interest:

◾Social justice (e.g., rights and freedoms)

◾Climate change

◾The poor and homeless (particularly if we sing about the homeless as objects as opposed to people)

◾Grand buildings and other edifices

◾The beauty of nature

These are all great topics, but will fail to make a connection unless listeners have people to whom they can relate. Everyone can get comfy with the sentiment of a song message that calls for universal freedom, but you need to do more if you’re going to really make a connection.

So if you plan to write a song that addresses one of the above topics, you have to immediately place a person, couple or group at the front of that story:

◾Social justice: Who is being wronged? What pain are they feeling? What rights are they being denied? What is their story?

◾Climate change: Who is this song about? Is there possibility of a personal story to focus on? Instead of singing about clouds that won’t give rain, sing instead about someone, and the pain and anxiety they are facing when the clouds won’t give rain.

◾The poor and homeless: Tell someone’s story. Create a name. Where did they come from? Where is their family? What happened to get them out on the street? Show a tender side, a loving side, a sad side… tap into your listeners’ emotions.

◾Grand buildings and other edifices. So you want to do a story about the beauty of the Statue of Liberty? Give her a name. Tell her story. Invent thoughts and feelings. Or describe a relationship between a visiting child and the statue in which they actually communicate with each other. Pull emotion out of the story.

◾The beauty of nature: Nature is beautiful because people see its beauty. So a song about nature will succeed if it’s a song about a person, and their relationship with someone else in nature. Make nature, and the nice things you say about it, a poignant backdrop for a more powerful story.

Show me a list of the best songs ever written, and I’ll show you a list of songs about people and their personal interactions with others, and then the results of those actions.

Remember, it’s always about people.



Tons of great stuff on Gary's site;

http://www.secretsofsongwriting.com/

What I Mean To Say 

Maureen Ryan Griffin 

How have I never noticed

a gull partake

with such nonchalance

of its sunrise breakfast,

clamping its prey

in its mouth to carry

it from the ocean’s edge

before beak stabs

again and again

into body, plucking

meat from a crab

that does not go gentle into

being eaten, jerking, waving

its claws in what looks

to me like protest

and still I don’t step away

until the gull finishes,

not long after

the crab’s shuddering

stops, leaving

a small litter

of shell and cartilage

I wouldn’t recognize

for what it was

had I not been standing here

as the sun kindles

the morning, here where

I came to drink in

a glorious dawn.