Nightfall
Nightfall is a dream deferred.
Powder blue skies fade to blackblue.
Charcoal clouds roll over that beaming light
and blott it out,
replacing it with artificial yellow and orange sparkles
that diminish and die in the distance.
Tree shadows cover green grass and cracked concrete.
Lush branches are now spare twigs.
The wind is still; the air, shiver-cool.
Everything is black—eyes opened or closed.
Hope is dusk,
and optimism cold as midnight.
The sun sets on daydreams,
and the moon triggers nightmares.
~cdw
11.14.09
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Read Your Mind
Read Your Mind*
Each thought is intricate
words and actions intertwine
lips moving, no comprehension
and I can't read your mind.
You tell me secrets
we converse to unwind
they don't know your feelings
but I can't read your mind.
Late night phone calls
texts to waste the time
you hide pieces of the puzzle
so I can't read your mind.
I ask so many questions
you answer with one line
mysterious in all your ways
I'll never read your mind.
~cdw~
12.17.08
*This poem was used as lyrics for a song composed by AVG Trio*
Just add songwriting to my repertoire. :-)
Each thought is intricate
words and actions intertwine
lips moving, no comprehension
and I can't read your mind.
You tell me secrets
we converse to unwind
they don't know your feelings
but I can't read your mind.
Late night phone calls
texts to waste the time
you hide pieces of the puzzle
so I can't read your mind.
I ask so many questions
you answer with one line
mysterious in all your ways
I'll never read your mind.
~cdw~
12.17.08
*This poem was used as lyrics for a song composed by AVG Trio*
Just add songwriting to my repertoire. :-)
A Guerilla ad for Yahoo! PersonalsThe Revolution
THE REVOLUTION
My ear is to the streets
Raised voices
Marching feet
The restless cry of the weary
is a never-ending beat
The triumph over evil
A never-ending feat
The spilled blood of black innocence
The crimson red of beets
Put your cheek to the ground
Feel vibrations
Absorb the sound
Sneakers to pavement
Pound after pound
Like African drums
Round after bloody round
Feel the treble
Hear the bass
Keep the time
Step up the pace
The metaphorical march
of a sick and tired Race
It has begun
Wield your gun
The battle has not been won
Shielded in Ephesian armor
Heads lifted to the sun
and Son
Press on for the children
The generations to come
Never accepting defeat
I keep my ear to the streets.
~cdw
03.09.2009
My ear is to the streets
Raised voices
Marching feet
The restless cry of the weary
is a never-ending beat
The triumph over evil
A never-ending feat
The spilled blood of black innocence
The crimson red of beets
Put your cheek to the ground
Feel vibrations
Absorb the sound
Sneakers to pavement
Pound after pound
Like African drums
Round after bloody round
Feel the treble
Hear the bass
Keep the time
Step up the pace
The metaphorical march
of a sick and tired Race
It has begun
Wield your gun
The battle has not been won
Shielded in Ephesian armor
Heads lifted to the sun
and Son
Press on for the children
The generations to come
Never accepting defeat
I keep my ear to the streets.
~cdw
03.09.2009
Mr. Unexpected
Mr. Unexpected
I am looking for Mr. Right
when I should not be looking for
Mr. Unexpected.
I look for the former around the corner,
but he is never there.
Meanwhile,
the latter is behind me
sight unseen
because my eyes don't sit
in the back of my head.
Mr. Right is usually unavailable
or late for a dinner date,
so Mr. Wrong shows up in his place.
Meanwhile,
Mr. Unexpected is on the other side of town
drowning the stresses of his day
in soft jazz and red wine,
NeoSoul and a home-cooked meal --
that's the stuff I like.
Now Mr. Right is no longer
on the market.
He recently got engaged
to his college sweetheart.
And Mr. Wrong won't
stop calling --
I had Verizon block his number.
But Mr. Unexpected isn't in
my phonebook
or call log.
I accidentally deleted his digits.
It is when I stop waiting
by the phone
that it will ring again.
-- "Hello. This is Mr. Unexpected."
-- "Who?"
(Don't hang up. Just keep talking.)
He comes in stealth,
like a thief in the night,
to marry his bride
in the morning.
~cdw
5.9.09
I am looking for Mr. Right
when I should not be looking for
Mr. Unexpected.
I look for the former around the corner,
but he is never there.
Meanwhile,
the latter is behind me
sight unseen
because my eyes don't sit
in the back of my head.
Mr. Right is usually unavailable
or late for a dinner date,
so Mr. Wrong shows up in his place.
Meanwhile,
Mr. Unexpected is on the other side of town
drowning the stresses of his day
in soft jazz and red wine,
NeoSoul and a home-cooked meal --
that's the stuff I like.
Now Mr. Right is no longer
on the market.
He recently got engaged
to his college sweetheart.
And Mr. Wrong won't
stop calling --
I had Verizon block his number.
But Mr. Unexpected isn't in
my phonebook
or call log.
I accidentally deleted his digits.
It is when I stop waiting
by the phone
that it will ring again.
-- "Hello. This is Mr. Unexpected."
-- "Who?"
(Don't hang up. Just keep talking.)
He comes in stealth,
like a thief in the night,
to marry his bride
in the morning.
~cdw
5.9.09
Curly Kinks
Curly Kinks
Sitting in the beauty chair
I watched my hair
long and golden brown
fall to the ground
in three to four inch clumps
No more strands
to keep my neck warm
and for your hands
to run through
Now it hits above the nape
and curves the contours
of my face
Soon
it will no longer be straight
The curly kinks
will come through
from the roots
Month after month
day after day
Snip after snip
Relaxed strands
will be swept into
the dust pan
and the natural me
will be liberated
in Afro form
or two-strand twists
or straw-set curls
And on and on, and on and on
Transitioning from chemicals
is where I'm headed
Healthy pure and 'naptural.'
~cdw
Sitting in the beauty chair
I watched my hair
long and golden brown
fall to the ground
in three to four inch clumps
No more strands
to keep my neck warm
and for your hands
to run through
Now it hits above the nape
and curves the contours
of my face
Soon
it will no longer be straight
The curly kinks
will come through
from the roots
Month after month
day after day
Snip after snip
Relaxed strands
will be swept into
the dust pan
and the natural me
will be liberated
in Afro form
or two-strand twists
or straw-set curls
And on and on, and on and on
Transitioning from chemicals
is where I'm headed
Healthy pure and 'naptural.'
~cdw
Thursday, June 25, 2009
"French Restaurant" :60 rad
Courtney Ware
Berlitz Private Instruction
“French Restaurant” :60 radio
4/29/09
MUSIC: (VIOLIN PLAYING SOFTLY.)
SFX: (RESTAURANT AMBIENCE.)
CLIENT: (VIOLIN MUSIC UNDER.) Bonjour!
BUSINESSMAN: Uhh ... Bonjour?
ANNCR: The next time you’re in a Paris restaurant for that important business
meeting...
CLIENT: Parlez vous français? Oui?
BUSINESSMAN: Umm ... Sure, we parley in France.
ANNCR: ... and before you try to pitch to the client...
BUSINESSMAN: We parley here all the time.
CLIENT: No, no, no. Parlez vous français? Oui o No?
BUSINESSMAN: Um ... We?
ANNCR: ... you should learn to speak French.
CLIENT: (FRUSTRATED SIGH. CHAIR SLIDING.) Au revoir.
BUSINESSMAN: Wait. Don’t leave. We parley! We parley!
ANNCR: (VIOLIN MUSIC UNDER.) Berlitz Private Language Instruction will save you this embarrassment. With our Total Immersion
program, you’ll learn to communicate in most business settings in one to three weeks. Our personalized coaching will teach you the client’s language and save your job.
BUSINESSMAN: Waiter!
WAITER: Monsieur?
BUSINESSMAN: Wine, please. I need a drink.
WAITER: Parlez vous français? Oui o No?
BUSINESSMAN: O.K, fine! We don’t parley. No we don’t!
ANNCR: Call 888-645-5459 to speak to a Berlitz Consultant today.
"Someone for Everyone" :60 radio
Yahoo! Personals
“Someone for Everyone” :60 radio
05/25/09
SFX: (TYPING SOUND)
MAN: (HEAVY SIGH) First question...
ANNC: Meet Jim.
MAN: (TYPING UP AND UNDER.) What are my interests...?
ANNC: He’s creating a Yahoo! Personals profile.
MAN: Oh boy. Where should I start...?
ANNC: (TYPING UNDER) Let’s see if Yahoo! Personals can find someone for him.
MAN: Hmm... (TYPING) I like chocolate gummy worms...
SFX: (LOUD BUZZER)
MAN: (TYPING) ...driving in hail storms...
SFX: (LOUD BUZZER)
ANNC: It’s not looking good, folks.
MAN: (TYPING) ...and cheeseburgers, without the burger...
SFX: (VERY LOUD BUZZER)
ANNC: Jim’s got one more shot.
MAN: (TYPING) I write Sci-Fi novels in my spare time.
SFX: (LOUD BELL: DING! DING! DING!)
ANNC: Looks like we have a match!
MAN: Wow. She’s cute.
ANNC: There really is someone for everyone. And they’re on Yahoo! Personals. Buzzer not included.
MAN: She owns over 200 Sci-Fi books! What a woman.
ANNC: Unlikely match. Unlikely place.
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