IF THE ROSEBUD ON THE COVER - A POEM

I took some photos to illustrate

a poem from Late Bloomer

the one about the rosebud on the cover

There she is on the cover

I added a funny journal cover collage

flowers, a bird, pink champagne, a memento

a pink ribbon to tie things together


and added a song I wrote.


You can listen and read at the same time!

If the rosebud could speak, she'd say,
 "Write me a Song"

The rose bush is in the pot on the left

and here's the poem.

If the Rosebud on the Cover

If the rosebud on the cover

could talk, she would tell you

her roots have been in a

pot for a dozen years or so.

She would tell you

her owner placed her by the

patio door, to see her

peach colored blooms and

smell a fragrance of myrrh.

“So few roses have

fragrance, anymore,”

she sighs.

The rosebud would remark that she was

anointed with raindrops in spring

and opened with unusual

beauty and grace,

then faded and died.

If the rosebud on the cover

could talk, she’d say that

something always 

has to die

to be reborn.

~~

stay tuned . . .

KIDS ATE THEIR POP TARTS

Writing a Memoir is sobering.

What to put in a book you’re calling,

“Confessions of a Blue Tomato”

What to leave out!

What about accountability?

Ay, there’s the rub.

Kids ate their pop tarts

washed down with our dregs,

We had Bloody Mary’s 

and Scrambled Eggs.

But, is this what the book is about?

Is it really about

Betty Crocker who mustn’t scream?

And isn’t it also about the Blue Tomato

who wrote songs because of

a broken heart?

Who also just edited in a scene

at a communications conference

that involved literature and sex

and was once a short story

I wrote called

Sleeping With Tolstoy.

What is my intent?

That’s what Marion the Librarian

is asking me in every sentence!

“What’s Your Intention?”

(That could be a Game Show!)

What kept me making my

unique entrances and exits

monologues and duets?

I want to write a story all the way from

showing my seven year old self

collecting paper and tin cans

and bacon grease,

delivering it to the meat man

to weigh and initial

so I can help win the War.

and get a Victory Badge.

Can that little girl be the Betty Crocker,

Blue Tomato
who Slept with Tolstoy --

and the woman who is writing this today?

This Memoir is an

 "I have a dream . . . story" 

to write music

to accomplish things 

to be somebody . . .

and has

 missed it a country mile,

as they say!

Yet, every time I set out to accomplish,

yet another bright idea,

there's a little optimistic soulful voice

down in “Who-ville”

that keeps cheering me on,

“Maybe, this time that dream

will come true!”

In one way I’ve already written it

in the lyrics in the Finale,

The Great Circle of Love,

from my musical -- Silent Dreams

“You have known, all along,

that inner song,

step inside, step inside, step inside

your soul.”

but will it pass the so, what, test?

 . . . stay tuned

---

THE BLUE TOMATO JAZZ ALBUM

I want to start this blog

with my desktop photo

it looks so much better than

 the current overgrown,

 under watered August garden.

This morning, I edited more of

Confessions of a Blue Tomato

I’m in1968-- those Betty Crocker days

structuring it in segments, for now,

with headings such as -- 

“The Summer of our Discontent”

“The Last Marriage Counselor

or

How I Know I’m Not Crazy”

~~~

Last night I folded three more

sets of xeroxed pages for the

poem book Late Bloomer

then took a

nice warm bath

where I get all my great ideas

like making that long wished for

Jazz Album with original songs.

That’s what I’ve wanted to do all along

This is the new keyboard.

It’s a Yamaha Arranger Workstation.

I worked for three hours today

 off and on,

practicing just one song

recording it six times

and deleting all of them.

That’s why I’ve been putting

off this music project.

I KNOW the kind of energy 

and dedication it takes.

I counted up last night

and I’ve composed 65 songs.

The last songs I composed

were for YouTube videos

Crayola Blues and Yes I Will.

They were such

 beautiful surprises!

A kind of dreamy magic

to have songs

 come to me like that.

My garden is like that, too,

always a beautiful surprise.

 I beat the blue jays to get these figs.

What did I learn today?

Most every thing I do,

 I have to wait

for the spirit

 to come through me

or move me

or

give me courage,

like that day, back in 1979, when

I’d been teaching myself chords

and practiced a lot of songs

and asked if I could play at Sparky’s

and they said, "Yes".

That was a dream come true.

Wish me luck, 

 . . . stay tuned

CONFESSIONS OF A BLUE TOMATO

It’s good to get out

even in hot weather,

and get a Wal-Mart Gift Card

 for10% off Gasoline.

It’s good to get out

and not be a slug, like yesterday,

eating guacamole on Romaine leaves

and the rest of the ice cream

(ice cream is a no-no)

But it was free at Earth Fare last week.

It's too hot

to even take photos

so here's an old one

St. Francis and the Confederate jasmine

It’s good to get out because

in between Wal-Mart and Trader Joe’s,

I had the best idea for a new title for the

Memoir revision of Shug!

This was the photo on that cover.

Earlier, the revision was going to be called

Silently Dreaming:As the Music Winds Down

But now I’ve been so inspired

by a new book, 

The Memoir Project:

The Thoroughly Non-Standardized

Text for Writing & Life.

by Marion Roach Smith 

I've changed my focus.

Last week I had these title ideas:

The Envelope, Please

I Was Never Meant To Be A Star

Hold On To Your Dreams

Looking for Me.

The new memoir title

“Confessions of a Blue Tomato”

"How does that grab you?

Would you read it?"

 . . . to be continued

~~~