Archive for video

My Write to Speak

I’ve presented several songs both with and without a video accompaniment. I’ve decided to try it out with poetry. I hope you enjoy it.

If lying lies within omission, then I admit that I have lied.

Untitled, by Alexa L.
written July 27, 2011

I do not tell you everything.
I let you read between lines,
among them.

I let you take from a poem
perhaps a feeling of sadness
or regret
or  I have totally been there.

I try.

A little.

Sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I tell you what happened,
without really telling you.

Because when I say I miss him, I do.

But sometimes I don’t.

I say these things,
like notes stuck inside a time capsule,
a hundred or so years of solitude
barely understood
by the little girls with the twirly ribbons
and the shoes that light up
when they stamp stamp stamp
stamp
stamp their feet
to newly uncoordinated beats,
pulling at the contents like the heads of
Barbie dolls.

They read the love notes
and old poetry they’ve pulled
from beneath the broken swing,
drop confetti on torn photos of you and me
and smile,
giggling because they haven’t been there

not yet

they’re still too innocent.

They can mend their hearts with Popsicle sticks
and Elmer’s glue.

They can take the photo of me and you and make it
really, really pretty
until you can no longer see the cracks
they’ve covered in red and orange glitter
and gummy bears
and stickers
and marker that smells like grape.

They are biting their chocolate chip cookies,
spilling crumbs onto your cheeks,
wishing they could have met you
because you look like their Ken doll.

And when they turn old enough,
to know,
they won’t remember the photos, the notes, or the poetry.

They will not tell him everything.

They will start to write and never stop.

Hearts at Play

Some of my older poetry—the poetry before I ever became an undergrad then a grad—is often inspired by songs or stories I became semi-obsessed with during my high school years of over-sized sweaters and softball. Below is an example of that sort of inspiration, plus an on-the-spot rewrite inspired by the poem that was inspired by the song.

Meta.

Woah.

A Simple Game
written November 3, 2003 and inspired by Sting’s “Shape of my Heart

With spades and clovers
As their weapons
Armies fight on open ground.

With hearts and diamonds
For deception
The soldiers fight without a sound.

And as they lay their deck of cards
Each takes a turn
With weapon’s choice.

And as each army falls
They learn
That cheating takes away your voice.

But then the cards are handed in
The armies fall
And others stand.

To win the fight
Or win it all
You’ll have to have the better hand.


The 2011 Rewrite:

Spade
written May 5, 2011

Remove me as you would
the earth,
as you would
your enemies,
armed with their hearts
on their sleeves.

Weapons, as red
as cherries
or cartoon blood,
glinting
under screen glow
as you pierce the
pump,
pump,
pump, pump,
diamond-rough
and cutting—

soundless as you lay them,
nay,
strike them down
shuffling to pull the upper hand,
the better hand,
the winnings.

Unexpected Love, Take 1

I spent a large part of my my undergraduate life annoying the heck out of a roommate by writing songs, then proceeding to sing them until, well, I felt the song was finished. Anyway, UCF housing was big on hosting events, so every month I’d participate in the open mic nights to share the songs I’d written among extra-long mattresses, stacks of gen ed books, and a stuffed chicken named Sir Walter I bought at Walmart (pictured below, but no longer owned).

Sir Walter, the orange chicken

I also did it to get over my nerves. I always made mistakes. I always went too high or too low on a note. I freaked out, choked. But it was a lesson in humility, persistence, and love. I was doing something I adored, whether I was fantastic at it or not. The rediscovered video below is from freshman year of college, April 2006. I was 18. And I have to say, I really really really miss performing for a group of friends, former strangers. I miss living in on-campus housing. I miss UCF. So, Memories, this one is for you guys.

Unexpected Love
music written with Johnny B. Good, dedicated to a former flame of his
lyrics written by me (in days where I thought rhyming was key. Oy.)

You couldn’t be what I wanted, 
’cause I wanted someone noone else could see.
This couldn’t be where I ended, 
’cause where I end up is a place that you can’t be.
I had a feeling you were pushing;
stop the pushing, stop the hating, stop the fire.
I had this feeling you were rushing;
you were honest, but I thought you were a liar.
Stop 
what you’re doing now, 
what you’re doing now
to me.
Stop
let’s not break this down
’cause I love you now;
love me.
First we were friends, now I can’t be.
What I can be I thought never could be real.
Now in the end we are happy;
it’s a happiness I always dreamed I’d feel.
Stop 
what you’re doing now, 
what you’re doing now
to me.
Stop
let’s not break this down
’cause I love you now;
love me.

Oh yea, and Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Slip and Fall…and Sing

In Boston, it is very cold. It rains. Rain turns to ice. Ice melts into puddles. It snows. The water refreezes. So I trudge through snow, slip on ice. Now that the ice is starting to disappear, the thermometer dips below zero and I shiver, my hands fumbling with numbness to click the keys of my phone—to move, for gosh sake. And then I feel tired because I’m trying too hard to do so little.

But when I have the time to thaw, I accomplish much. I have

  • finished reading The Help, which probably deserves its own entry (the book was damn good),
  • played soccer (Indoors. I’m not a crazy person to be playing in 3-degrees Fahrenheit weather),
  • visited two new places in Boston (North Andover and Woburn),
  • learned how to code in basic html,
  • worked and worked and worked from 9 to 5,
  • bought tall brown boots (which I’ve been looking for for a while),
  • purchased the unwritten, volume 2,

AND

  • I’ve written [most of] a new song (woo hoo!). Lyrics below.
Note: It is cold. This explains my hat in the video. Please laugh at your discretion.  

Baby

Untitled
written January 20, 2011

Baby, your words
cut me like icicles,
a sharpened, pointed stick
why did you have to be
such a
dictator in bed?
Couldn’t you love me from my
toes up to my head?
Say that you love me
so I’d let go of the past.
Why did you have to be
such an

Ask me
how I feel?
So I can tell you
I feel bad.
What is the appeal?
Of making me
Of making me
Of making me

So so so so so so so so
so so so so so so
so so so so so so
sad

What is this regret?
Put on a grumpy face
the music in your head.
You’d be surprised that
I have finally found my sass.
Why don’t you go ahead
and kiss my

Ask me
how I feel?
So I can tell you
I feel bad.
What is the appeal?
Of making me
Of making me
Of making me

So so so so so so so so
so so so so so so
so so so so so so
sad

I’ll tell you how I feel:
like I am finally flying,
hands pulled off the wheel,
my independence driving
you a little wild.
Why did you have to be
such a child?

So so so so so so
so so so so so so
so so so so so so
sad.

Tired is Just a State of Mind…or How to Sound Exhausted

Today (or I suppose yesterday) I truly felt like posting another song video, despite the fact I might be losing my voice from cheering at my softball game against Harvard University Press (We lost by one point. Sad.). So though I might sound tired (and I have a roomie I don’t want to bug with too much soul), here’s a new one from an inspirational lunch idea from a couple months ago. A toast to inspiration. Enjoy!

[FMP]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yXniGfyrw8[/FMP]

Untitled
by Alexa L., written April 21, 2010

I had a feeling that you could not let her go
That what we had was not enough to tell her “no,
this isn’t right, when you call me late at night,”
You’re the reason that we’re fighting, fighting, fighting for our life.

Tears tumble down the little curves upon my cheeks
You shower me with love, then beg me not to speak
about the lies, about the moans and then the sighs
You’re the reason that I’m crying, crying, crying “not tonight”

Why do you hurt me so
Why do you hurt me
Why can’t you let me go
Why can’t you let me

You know she’s drunk, she bites the bottom of your lip
The smell of cigarettes, your hands upon her hips
And I’ll be fine, you go and blame it on the wine
But she’s the reason that you’re lying, lying, lying all the time. 

Why do you hurt me so
Why do you hurt me
Why can’t you let me go
Why can’t you let me

Friendships Never Work Like This

This is what I hope to be the first of many video posts. I figured since I’ve been sharing song lyrics, it would be equally important for you to know how the songs sound, the melody I had in my head as I was writing them. This is because lyrics aren’t just words on a page; they’re full of emotion, my emotion. What I was feeling at the time of writing. The anger. The jealousy. The happiness. Even the downright silliness of being in my twenties. So please excuse the lackluster video and equally lackluster sound quality. I just hope you like my songs as much as I enjoy writing them.

This first song I’m sharing is titled “Friendships Never Work Like This.” Yes, it is about a boy, but since then this song has become one of my go-to favorites for open-mic nights (very small open-mic nights, that is). And so you can follow along, I’ve provided the lyrics below.

Friendships Never Work Like This
lyrics and melody by Alexa L., written sometime before January 10, 2006 (when I finally transcribed the darn thing)

I thought that this could work
And we’d be cool, no one would ever
Feel the pain, it’s all okay
I didn’t want all of this again
Another love, another person
Never met, already hate
I’ll demonstrate this love, this unrequited search
Upon the pillows

See my hair atop the sheets
When I sat there about a million hours ago
A million hours spent, so many nights
We talked and there upon those sheets
You whispered softly to me
I’ll let her go
She’s just a friend
Don’t worry love
I’ll be your friend

So I said hey
I think I love you, think I want you to be mine
But this is so, so very complicated
This happens all the time
But it’s a different situation
I tell myself a time again
It doesn’t matter to you, when I am just a friend

Friendships never work like this
You’re not supposed to talk and kiss
Again, again and then you cry
That you’re confused
And then you to lie to me after we talk and kiss
And then you say you miss me, then you say it all to her
But do you mean it, when you say it to me

No, you never did, you’re not confused
You actually know what you want, I’ve just been used
I’m being strung, being puppeted along
So many pulls and gesticulations,
Expressing heartache and frustration
I’m not upsetting you, but you’re upsetting me

Friendships never work like this
You’re not supposed to talk and kiss
Again, again and then you cry
That you’re confused
And then you to lie to me after we talk and kiss
And then you say you miss me, then you say it all to her
But do you mean it, when you say it to me
Because I mean it when I say it to you

Switch to our mobile site