She was afraid to be trapped again by another’s lack of comprehension and participation.
Even worse, though, was her past patterning of becoming blind to it to retain any comfort in closeness – unable to vocalize her needs as instincts clutched onto ‘safety’ – and the fear of loss if she shared that inside her needs were screaming.
She waan’t looking for an age, she was looking for the right fit.
And she had lost that time to live, caring for others in their complexities.
But if she found someone at that life stage, would they both be relegated to standard life-patterned growth rings?
What she’d been learning back then was how the push the ceiling off from everything.
But the people around her had just continued trodding scenarios unfolding slowly, as if sleepwalking.
A few gentle, quiet and tenuous but sharply clear-so-she’d-hear piano notes came from some chamber in her mind to her left, spanning across time and space.
But the plane shifted, cutting off the connection, and she couldn’t reach out to touch his crisped white collar.
A warm, dim-lit parlor opened where an umber-smoked piano beckoned soothingly and an older, stubble-faced confident was ready to lend an ear.
But she only played very litle and in private, and this person was not real in life to her.
Another room – a bar this time – filled to brimming with beautiful younger women, viscious in their competetive trimmings, ready to jeer and leer at her for trying.
Then that feeling over-riding everything as she turned another corner in the portal maze lacking any grounding.
“No, no more bathroom dreams please – where clothes go suddenly missing, and I’m scrambling.”
“The song ‘Someone You Loved’ by Lewis Capaldi sounds similar tones to Leo Faulkner’s cover of ‘Sex’ by the 1975.”
“It turns out that I have hip dysplasia.
My hound has it, too.
Only her left hip will twist out of its socket – even in her youth.
I have to rub her associated muscle spasms to get them to release her hip so that it again properly repositions when I see her limp.
Oh wait…
Both of mine now behave like this, too.”
They speak of love
In certain language
Which implies it is
Perhaps replaceable
But, no, it is specific
The right match fits
In ways that make
One’s spirit access
Primary potentials
Without its blessing
Twitch itching bones
She’d been afraid of this
His presence promised
That at summer’s end
She’d have his comfort
But instead fall rushed
Hurtling toward winter
Where cold saps bones
Sucking delicate dreams
From marrow as atones
Believing in saving grace
From love’s healing balm
She was afraid to howl for him, flinching at the implied sting of rejection.
“I’m at last taking a class from a teacher who is relatable and helps make this knowledge accessible.
Lyrics, chord charts, and rough sample demos.
Three ‘simple’ pieces that an artist needs to be able to compose in order for their artistic concepts to be well conveyed.
The perequisite is having taken a Music Fundamentals class before, which I’ve done twice – the last time about eleven years or so ago.
I have a refresher book, too.
But this foundational structure did not really tell a person how to apply the knowledge functionally – nor, especially, intuitively.
Theory has been presented enough to name the pieces and then get abstract with the Circle of 5ths – much like math can continue building, but unless you are measuring something or getting into physics, all you really came away with practically is geometric measurements or how to count change, for example.
I am finally gaining slow ability to identify notes and tonal relationships on the piano.
Lord help me attempting to convert this same info to a guitar!
And I can see that if you know the Circle of 5ths, then you can somehow begin identifying potential chords by whether there are notes in a piece of music with tonic, sharps, or flats aspects.
Then, you could go on to say a note is augmented or diminished, or at a degree counter to its original position within the chord structure.
But I’m still workung backwards it seems, trying to just find the notes to match my singing because trying to write chords to chart seems to me to be not enough info to convey a song’s details properly.
For now, I’m still at the place of clarifying the little details – which might be making my learning curve more difficult than going for generalities.”
There’s legend
Steeped of old
Telling of those
Of birds’ likeness
Facial bones contored
Body shape emulating
Creatures capable of
Traveling mystic airs
Magic pouring from
Sweat when working
The arts coming
Natural attuning
For now few yet
Have been born
But the chosen
Grow stronger
He could never
Be her consort
Tradition demanded
Much more than this
By Athena Stairs, October 18, 2025
King of Hearts
Where’s your start?
Do you see the
Way is open?
In a glance
Hidden chance
Now we feel the
Future welcome
In all of the
Days of searching
Our souls had to
Keep learning
How to love again
In ways that never end
And while I was dreaming
You’ve been creating
A song to sing again
My Dearest Friend
My Dearest Friend
King of Hearts
In a flash
I see our
Lives unfolding
You and me
We make a team
Hand in hand
Our lives are golden
For all the pain
We suffered through
I wouldn’t change
A thing or you
Because we’re here
In paradise awakened
What was lost
Is not forsaken
But becomes
Reborn again
And Heaven’s voice
Opens the Gates
Calling us home
(Its throne our Home)
—
Chord chart and recording pending…
Note to self: last phrases end on same end notes of my song “Where Hearts Roam.”
(Please contact me for permissions)
She went back to the area, but that had not been her usual place. And he was gone, long gone. Vanished without a trace.
“A lady bug landed on my nose!”
High born in the lands of legacy
Sought oceans’ siren entreaties
Unkowing he’d rule air’s landing
Crowned to marry any kingdom
Yet never was he of pedantry
Mastering creation of realities
“Aparrently, lifting weight makes my hip joints lose their sh**!”
(“The PAIN!!!” – original Dune quote)
“I wish you were here to help guide me, to help me find decisions that align with you.”
One act today
Affects tomorrow
“To make a broiled steak and baked zucchini boats!”
Yes
Warmth is good
But
Sometimes too much
As body
Overheats quickly
It’s the near boiling bath
Steaming bones
Or
The electric blanket
Firey-swath zone
That first sear
Drawing cold near
To nestle up into
Shocking
Clear
Jolting
Reassuring
Claiming
Nourishing
Skin
Forced open
To sweat
Licking wounds
“It has taken several months, but it is healing!”
She loved his “bits.”
—
(Content of multiple meanings)
One day he turned to look – and found that she’d been waiting for him, tethered…
“Targeting the core truths of her own heart.”
“I’d like to say that I’m on top of things, but I just spilled half-n-half onto my favorite carpet, and I don’t want to put out ant traps tonight because I just want to let the evening end peacefully.
What really is ‘on top of things,’ anyway?
I think it’s time for me to change my interpretation and self expectations.”
She loved him.
Period.
Whatever that meant from here on forward, she would no longer fight it.
Candid Corvid Productions 