For post V-Day

Here, a little message from a recent,
confirmed believer in genuine happiness.
This is for everyone who hated Valentine's Day.
(I didn't mention the V-word on social media
until the day after,just to be safe.)
I think that Valentine's Day and
all holidays need to be revamped
like music needs to be revamped (wa-waaa vamp, music... get it?! Oh well.)
Music and holidays used to be an excuse for community.
Now we dedicate both to the spending of money
for temporary happiness for only ourselves.
Well I reclaim Valentine's Day for the community.
EVERYONE can sing. EVERYONE can love.
NOT just those who get flowers can sing.
NOT just those who get flowers can love.
Since its HISTORY is obviously sordid, so let's make history again.
Making history.
Speaking of making things...

_____________________________________________________________________


Make a table out of
cardboard scraps
Make a life from
parents' broken dreams
Make a happy day out of
grey morning slush
Make my own path from
whatever I damned well decide
Make music from nothing
or from the past repeating
Make love and money,
both just to the point of satisfaction
Make space in your mind, un-clutter,
and scrub all the corners clean
Make a life with a partner
out of a history of confused choices
Make the decision to be loved
when you feel undeserving

15 Feb 2014

New Ideas

I have decided to dedicate this blog to poetry and other writings instead of art. I've all but given up art for music and work, but I'll get back to it soon.
Writing is something I do often, and more often with the intensely long subway rides. So, here is one, and more to come.

On the M train

Last night, around midnight,
I stepped on the M train
And found I had a car to myself.

The whole car, just me.

A woman stepped on briefly,
But probably took
My sounds of amusement
As crazy ramblings
And left to a more peopled car.

So I sat for one whole stop
In the silence, the hollow
Echo of a ghost town.
I could hear the groaning
Of the weathered metal
On metal
On tracks
And the wind around the car,
Pushing as went.
The silence was so obvious
And so strange
That I had to laugh
To myself
In amazement.
That bubble of undisturbed

Calm

That came not only from the quiet car,
but the quiet Monday night
At Myrtle Ave. and Broadway.

The noise I can handle,
I can block it out after a while.
Stillness, no; I'm no longer able
To adapt to that quality,
The quality of absence.

A woman and her baby carriage got
on the train car
At the next stop.
Just one.
I, just for fun, though that I
Wanted to offer her my seat.



Francesca Erni

Please do not steal my stuff... copyright blah blah legal waste of time...