Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write about wondering what “future archaeologists, whether human or from an alien civilization, will make of us . . . exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.” Thanks to Michael of last week’s Tale Weavers from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie who provided a prompt about the moon. As well for A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s quote the letter today is the letter W.
” . . . All that is now / [a]ll that is gone/ [a]ll that’s to come / and everything under the sun is in tune/ but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.
“There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it’s all dark.” — Roger Waters
Gazing into the future, ‘neath a pale moon gleaming bright,
Hard to believe, people who were, saw the same moon’s shining light.
They had houses, electricity.
So many ethnicities.
It’s different now, the gene pool changed,
Those who look unique all estranged.
All look like us, all brown eyes, dark hair, and medium skin too.
I can scarce picture blond, red-haired, green eyes, or eyes so blue.
Genetic defects they called them, so now we’re all plain, the same,
It’s weird to think, they dyed their hair, all colors, none went gray.
How was it to be individual,
Not for the whole good — sacrificial.
What makes a person now is,
Incredibly different knowing this —
Society of people who fell as those before left their cities,
Frames of what once was, rusted metal, not all that pretty.
Their language full of slang, we cannot pin down lingiustics,
Cannot find words, spoken globally, their lyrics I sing.
But their music is strange, listened —
To some and our technology it fits.
Technology they had weird, but we —
Discover strange things, sound gleaned.
Words not understandable but melodies clear and bright,
Music is forbidden, I sing in secrecy to ancient tunes light.
Some days we watch their stories, their films, when the moon is round.
My favorite days, those brilliant plays, words with lovely sound.
And we find little toys, scrapbooks, phones,
While in the distance the guns drone.
Each man, each woman a soldier,
Controlled by who knows? With no souls.
No hope as those gone far ago had, of a war ending soon,
Gazing into the future, we lived under the same moon.
He sings the song, he knows so well, “American Pie” resounds,
A story “a long long time ago” the lyrics found,
On the lips of those passing by,
Throwing coins for memories sighed,
Thinking of “the day the music —
Died,” a plane crash in history mused.
Brought into the present, the “music [that] makes [him] smile.”
Singing talent innate: “Bye, Bye Miss American pie.”
He sings of the “good old boys . . . drinking whiskey and rye,”
Of the day they thought “this would be the day that” they’d up and die,
He breathes life into Rock and Roll,
Thinks music can save “mortal” souls.
His sonorous voice knows he has —
No luck; but he’ll sing for the past.
For “Miss American pie;” she drives her “Chevy” to the dry —
Levy;” all passing, know the lyrics “the day the music died.”
He’s a hit, his voice similar to Don McLean of past,
He drives home the point as if it were shards of sharp glass.
As history occurred, passed,
“Dirges in the dark” that collapse.
Of forgotten heroes, music lost,
Of times forgotten, with cost.
Singing for the “kings” and “queens” who walk on by, listening,
He sings the song he knows so well “Bye Bye . . . American pie.”
Don McLean – “American Pie”
Wrapped Refrain (Form No. 2), created by Jan Turner, carries some similar aspects as her Wrapped Refrain form, with further advanced techniques. It consists of 2 or more stanzas of 8 lines each, with the following set rules:
Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. I can think of nothing but this song when I see this photograph 🙂 🎼🎤✈️
“So kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you’ll wait for me. Hold me like you’ll never let me go . . . ’cause I’m leaving on a jet plane, I don’t know when I’ll be back again. Oh, babe, I hate to go.” – Original Lyrics by John Denver
“Wow, Dad. Look at that space suit. I want to wear it,” William said to Ben.
“Uh, no. Not happening.”
“This is major Tom to ground control / I’m stepping through the door/ [and] I’m floating in the most peculiar way.”
“Take the headphones from your ears and listen to your son,” Violet chided.
“I’m listening to William. He wants to wear the space suit and I said he can’t. What else can I say?” Ben asked.
“Just stop listening to your iPhone and be present,” Violet said rolling her eyes.
“But I have to finish this song. It’s a classic –the theme song to this museum moment.”
“What song Dad?” William asked curious.
“David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity.”
“Oh, I love that song, turn it up. Take the headphones out,” Violet said. William nodded in agreement.
They chuckled before singing out loud: “For here am I sitting in a tin can / [far] above the world / [planet] earth is blue / [and] there’s nothing I can do . . .” until they reached the end of the song.
When they had finished the three of them looked up surprised to have everyone present at the museum’s space exhibit applauding their singing.
When Evangeline left home, she didn’t take a cent of the money she had earned playing piano at concerts.
To make a living she learned to play guitar and sing vocals with various bands at ‘hole in the wall’ clubs in L.A. What little money she had she used for voice lessons, rent, and food. She increasingly wrote and sang her own songs.
At twenty-four, Evangeline auditioned for the popular reality TV show, “The Voice.” From the beginning, her talent blew the judges away and she eventually won first place. She called home and invited her mom to come see her final performance for the show.
When Evangeline sat down in front of the grand piano her hands shook above the piano keys. She hadn’t played a piano in three years beyond practising in private for the finale show. She surprised everyone with her skillful piano playing and successful rendition of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back.”
At the end of that night Evangeline hugged her mom. Every ounce of resentment and hate she felt for Ruth in the past had faded. She was also amused when she remembered the priceless expression on her mother’s face, hearing the lyrics to “Sexy Back.”
She was also grateful Ruth had pushed her and provided Evangeline a background as a performer. It gave her an edge as she was now able to pursue her musical talents true to her own choices.
The resonance of his voice carries in the arena, an audience enthralled by the first twang of his voice.
He’s a brilliant musician, the epitome of which other Country artists aspire to be –a world wide known musician, a gifted storyteller, with a beautiful famous wife.
The cadence of his final song’s chorus resounds as he considers the eight more shows he’s playing here; the last lyrics hover in the ambience of the audience as he leaves the stage:”Oh, I’ve got friends in low places.”
Note: Where I live, Garth Brooks is performing. His concerts kept selling out so they continued to add new shows, even weekend afternoon performances, until he was performing for nine shows. We’re pretty impressed that he’d play nine shows in our city. If he added a show or two more I’m sure they’d sell out as well; I still couldn’t get tickets 🙂