My Little girl with a curious Mind
Says her daddy went to heaven
And and left her crying behind
Wants to know if I’m gonna be her dad
Just the thought makes me happy sad
Cause I can’t be her hero
No no Not this man
Counting down to zero
I can be around till the day I die
But she’s still got that
golden sun brightening up her eyes
I don’t want her to ever see
The black hole
my sun came to be
The black hole
My sun came to be
This musical box world
is so full of dissonance
So I shakes my head
sadly at her innocence
As she plays happily with her toys
In her make believe world of joys
I sees I can’t be her hero
No no Not this man
Counting down to zero
I smile brightly at her whimsical ways
My smiles the light hearted full moon
I use to keeps the darkness at bays
My eyes the bright stars a twinkling
In the starry heavens she sees a winking
Lucky she’s not on my teeths other side
To swallow the darkness I trys to hide
Cause then she’d see
I can’t be her hero
No no not this man
Counting down to zero
I can be around till the day I die
But she’s still got that
golden sun brighteningย up her eyes
I don’t want her to ever see
The black hole
my sun came to be
The black hole
My sun came to be
This musical box world
is so full of dissonance
So I shakes my head
sadly for her innocence
Her tears ebbed in her tears flowed out
I curse the years I took that lonely route
Of a beaten hero
To become this man
Counting down to zero
Counting down to zero
ยฉ bg 2016
Beautiful melancholy.
If there is truth behind this poem I do hope that you can help be that little girl’s dad.
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Im glad you thought so, I really appreciate your comment kind regard bg ๐
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Very touching and innocent just like that little girl! Fell in love with it!
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Thank you, lovely to read your feedback ๐
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addendum: So, you spun a yarn that got my crying…And then I had to watch Michael Phelps swim his last race ever. The significance there is that my oldest son was a state level swimmer, and Phelps was his all-time hero. As my son grew up, he followed the ups and downs of his hero’s life…and there were a LOT of dark downs. We cheered and cried over the years and hoped…
My son, preparing his return to college, watched the triumph of that last awards ceremony with me a few minutes ago, and we cried together.
Of course, I already had the spigot flowing…Lol
Your superbananamonkey is utterly pathetic…
(but my Mased Muse Avenger is unbelievably gifted…do you still have my back?)
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Yes Phelps is amazing I just hope he dosn’t end up like Armstrong.
Yes superbananamonkey the masked muse has your back as I believe you have his ๐๐๐๐๐
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Yes, I have your back, always and forever. I’ve never really been the wavering type.
The “dad” theme presses a lot of buttons for me and not just for the dad I lost at 18. It goes way beyond the scope of a “comment” and dives into waters that I won’t go publicly, but I learned along the way that I could dance in the rain, and no one would see my tears…well, in the rain and in the shower…Lol (see now I am giggling again).
A .44 mangana gun does wonderous things to a bananamonkey Psyche…Lol
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๐ well I’m glad the giggling started again
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In the giggle-worthy department, I started writing a post and ended up just e-mailing it to you earlier today. Just send me a banana to let me know you actually got it. I probably answered a few Muse questions along in my quirky, goofy superbananamonkey way.
Ok, giggles starting again…
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Before I finally give in and go to sleep, I’ll share this little teaser for Thursday that no one else is getting: The making of Native American drums is a sacred ritual passed down through generations. It is an important rite filled with spiritual and cultural significance that speaks to the heart of a people. I don’t talk about it in the post for lack of space to do this beautiful tradition justice, but it will make sense when you read it.
For the record, if you want to know the movie that most stirs my soul, it would be The Last of the Mohicans. I’m going to watch it again this week just to spur on my courage to use the gift, if that’s what it is, given to me to continue to fight for my brothers. The movie’s sound track, one of the greatest ever composed imo, boasts an underlying string theme that brilliantly echoes the voices of the chants of a thousand Indian Nations, and I think the cinematography is absolutely stunning. It remains the only movie I would ever place ahead of the novel it was based on.
I write these themes into my novels, but I think most people miss them. I don’t know how. They hit me so deeply.
If I’m not mistaken, these issues are huge in New Zealand also.
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I’ll wait till I’ve read your post before I comment as if I’m right in what your going to write then it’s a world issue…. Haha I just commented when I’d said I’d wait. ๐๐๐๐
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I’m over there right now replying to comments. I was so worked up about getting this post right that I barely got any sleep, so the response has really blessed me. It is just an issue that moves me to the core.
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So I thought I would get caught up on posts…
You sobered up my giggling in a hurry. This is so absolutely beautiful and so utterly sad. You take my breath away…
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I hope it didn’t take your breath away for to long as I was enjoying reading your giggles. ๐๐๐
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Thus far, I have spent my day alternating between my thoughts of this poem, reducing me to tears, and my brother’s enthusiastic description of a .44 magnana gun last night, bringing me to outbursts of uncontrollable giggles. You have disrupted my equilibrium in every direction…Lol (equilibrium is probably overrated anyway)
fyi, in light of the racial violence in Milwaukee overnight, I’m bumping up my Thursday post to Monday (Tuesday, for you). I know your super busy, but I just wanted you to know in case you get a few free minutes to give a read. Hope your week is productive and fun!
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I think disrupting equilibrium is part of a muses job description lol ๐
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Sad, deep, beautiful.
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Thank you, it was very nice to receive your feedback ๐
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You are welcome!
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๐
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I love, love, love this.
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I love that you do ๐thanks so much for the feedback ๐
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