Anatomy of a Breakdown

You can't stop me?
You can't stop me!
You won't stop me!
You . . . won't . . . stop me?

. . .stop me . . .

Pulchrify

Here's another song I wrote in high school.  The melody is simple, but plaintive and pretty.  I imagine it being sung almost a capella, with only a brief repeated piano part as accompaniment.  If I were ever to get serious about setting down my songs with proper musical notation, this might be a good place to start.

If compliments could pulchrify a face
I'd be almost as beautiful as you believe I am
If wishing well could mollify my raging storms of strife
If words alone could dulcify the bitter taste of life
If love could rectify a life of errors and disgrace
My life would be as wonderful as you believe I am

If blissful dreams could somehow come to life
I'd think you were a fantasy made somehow manifest
If kindliness could ease a pain as piercing as a knife
You'd turn my pangs of agony into a peaceful rest
If compliments could pulchrify a face
I'd be almost as beautiful as you believe I am

If friendly deeds could cleanse the world of harms
You'd walk ahead of me and sweep the stones out of my way
If justice could be borne in on benevolence's arms
Life would be fair in spite of all that people often say
If compliments could pulchrify a face
I'd be almost as beautiful as you believe I am

If caring thoughts could change the world somehow
My world would be a realm of perfect love and endless joy
If all your loving wishes could be realized right now
My life would ring with sweetness that no sorrow could destroy
If compliments could pulchrify a face
I'd be almost as beautiful as you believe I am

If compliments could pulchrify a face
I'd be almost as beautiful as you believe I am
If wishing well could mollify my raging storms of strife
If words alone could dulcify the bitter taste of life
If love could rectify a life of errors and disgrace
My life would be as wonderful as you believe I am
If all your love could pulchrify a life
My life would be as beautiful as you believe I am

On Knowledge

I went through a sonnet phase when I was fifteen.  I would usually write at least one sonnet a day.  Most of them were contrived and pretty mediocre.  This is without a doubt my favorite one.  My senior year of high school, I entered it in a sonnet contest at Borders and it won second place, so it can't be THAT awful (although come to think of it, some of the poems that placed were THAT awful, so who am I to judge?).  This is Truth trying to make believe she's the next Shakespeare.  Enjoy.

May knowledge stand until the end of time
And ne'er diminish'd be by ignorance!
From basic truths to thought's discourse sublime,
Let precious wisdom ring with permanence!
When knowledge dies, soon follows humankind,
For when we lose our past is naught assur'd,
And biting is the hunger of the mind
Which through all generations has endur'd.
Thus knowledge in accumulation brought
Is treasure richer than the whole world's gold,
And sooner I'd persue these halls of thought
Than precious gems and metals I'd behold.
There is no better place, I must surmise,
Than that most blessed place where knowledge lies!

QED

This high-concept song is typical of the stuff I wrote when I was in high school, and despite (or perhaps because of) its self-conscious cleverness, comparing the inevitability of a breakup to the elegance of a mathematical proof, it remains one of my all-time favorites.  I've translated the entire song into French (with the help of a friend), and often when I sing it now, I replace the final chorus with the French version.

Do you remember when you loved me, oh, so madly
You promised you would never let me go
I still don't understand why you treated me so badly
But that the time has come to bid farewell I know
I whisper sadly
I told you so

CHORUS:
When I predicted love would make us grieve
You said you had to see it to believe
And as you leave
I'll say "Quod erat demonstrandum"

Do you remember that I cried and wondered how we
Could keep alive this love we had let start
And you held me close and promised in that vow we
Took that night that you would never break my heart
But it seems now we
Have fallen apart

CHORUS

I knew that it would happen
I watched it all unfold
The future didn't matter
When I had you now to hold
I wanted to believe you
When you said it would last
When you were with me I forgot
The sorrows of my past
But fate caught up at last
Quod erat demonstrandum

Do you remember how with sorrow did I know what
Had to happen, disregarding love and will
Now the ties of love that once conjoined us, so cut
Leave an emptiness that only time can fill
I let you go but
I love you still

CHORUS

One more embrace
Before you go
One last embrace
I told you so

Quod erat demonstrandum
Quod erat demonstrandum

Don't Wait Up

This is a song I wrote about my emotionally abusive father, who has been dead to me for two years.  (He was never physically abusive, though I sometimes feared he would lash out at me in his anger.)  I really do have nightmares about him, although these last few months they've been fewer and farther between.  I actually did dream once, back when I was in high school, that he was choking me "just for fun" (in front of other people, too, which made it humiliating as well as painful), and belittling me when I didn't see the humor in it.  Fortunately, he never really did anything that extreme, but I was regularly the butt of his mockery when I was growing up, and he couldn't bring himself to understand why I didn't exactly appreciate it.

So why does it have to be this way?
You ask when I'll come home and I say
When you stop showing up in my nightmares
You might find me at your door one day
So don't wait up
Don't leave the light on for me

Playfully you try to choke me
Back off and say it's just a joke, see?
It's so damn funny to provoke me
But the red marks on my neck are sore
And my throat hurts too much to laugh

So why does it have to be this way?
You ask when I'm coming home and I say
If these wounds ever heal without scars
You might find me at your door one day
So don't wait up
Don't leave the light on for me
And get angry when you see the electric bill

It's not my fault but go ahead, blame me
If it makes you feel better, go ahead, maim me
If it's so damn funny then go ahead, shame me
You say you're laughing with me, not at me
Funny thing is, I'm not laughing
So go ahead, strike me, push me, shove me
Tell me it's because you love me

All bulbs burn out eventually
So don't get up now
To turn the light on for me

Pudendum

The thing itself is lovely, but
the woman who has taken unto herself
that timeless synecdoche -
a shameful thing indeed.

Vernal Verdancy

When I was fourteen I wrote this poem to celebrate the coming of spring.  It's an intricate paean elaborating upon the parallels between the vernal equinox and the sunrise.  (It should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I grew up to be fascinated by tables of correspondences.)  Reading back over this poem for the first time in a decade, I'm almost surprised how truly awful it isn't.  Actually, though half a lifetime ago I thought it quite an ambitious project, it pretty much does exactly what I wanted it to do!  Enjoy it for what it's worth, along with my best wishes for a season of happiness.

The sun is rising in the east
O'er 'scapes still marked by winter's hand,
For only now has newborn Spring
Come in to warm and wake the land.

O sun, now rise, and fill the skies,
And summon vernal verdancy!
Come, morning sun, for Spring's begun!
Arouse the land from dormancy.

How fast the sun seems now to move!
How much the day in brightness grows!
How eagerly the plants awake,
Released from burdens nights impose!

The birds all sing their songs of Spring,
Their praises of the verdant land.
They all rejoice, each in its voice,
Elated in this season grand.

O sun, bring warmth, bring light, to make
The flowers from their buds explode!
Bring warmth, bring light, that there may be
New wonders bursting from each node.

May ever flower bloom this hour,
This time of new Spring's sun's first light,
When night and day in balance play,
When day is pushing back the night!

The sun has risen now at last,
And vernal verdancy is near.
The night, like winter, now is past.
The day, like newborn Spring, is here!