The Ugly Color of the Rainbow – revised

THE rainbow-1467988_640UGLY COLOR OF THE RAINBOW

(explanation below)

Sadly, the people you left behind
won’t know what they will miss
Closing doors, no final looks
To determine if there was any worth to find
No matter the reason, it brings you pain
The kiss, never quite meeting the cheek
before it breezes on with nothing to gain
There will be no need to ever find out
If the person you dismiss
Was the one you didn’t know how much you’d miss
When life pulled the rug from beneath your feet
Afraid of ending life so sad and so alone
Because there was no bridge to cross
You caught your breath
The raging water looked so deep
You could barely see the other side
to see the person standing there
Who fell down weeping, head on the ground
Breathing in the smell of the dirt
and the hateful thoughts they found
When finding someone else to blame
You threw away the one who came
home and was not easy to know
But oh so very easy to let go
You grew weary of trying on your own
Your only thought was let them to go
Never thinking that the day might come
Where I might be the only one
Who really understood who you were
Oh how scared you felt
When you couldn’t find your way
You couldn’t glue together the pieces of your life
They wouldn’t stay connected
You didn’t feel you were protected
But life doesn’t care how you feel
We must gather all our strengths
No one makes it all alone
or knows the length life will go
to show you all the truths you need to know
You were convinced you had no need of me
Toss me away . . . like yesterday. . . didn’t matter
You can’t reach the top if you don’t climb the ladder
But you stopped. . . when you reached halfway
Afraid of falling, you made yourself look away
The whole truth was never important enough
You made peace with just a piece
You don’t even want to know why anymore
You can’t even take a step, it’s easier to endure
But you can’t just stuff it down
It will never go away, unless I make no sound
Then chances will disappear never to be found
No one cares, mistakes I’ve made a few
Coming home to no home I can’t undo
The chance to make amends dissolve
Into a pool of life it can’t resolve
It becomes lost just like we are
Because you stood still and it washed away
Close the door that shut out my cries
Let in the fearfulness of intended lies
That kept you locked away in fear
The truth was not at all what it appeared
The truth is not at all what it appears
Was it worth it, losing me without trying?
Not thinking causing pain only ends with dying
You believe you are not as strong as you are
Locked in a place you can’t take the first step
Fear of change, you were always afraid
of changing the same old same old
Fingers spread across your mouth, never being bold
Keep inside your mind what you are needing
So nothing changes, life keeps you grieving
What if you were wrong all along – again
I can’t be still, say I don’t care and pretend
that blood isn’t thicker than someone else’s needs
Unfinished feelings can be planted just like weeds
To grow again into an unnamed garden
Given strength no lie can crack, the outside hardened
I don’t think anyone cares about that but me
I seem to care alone and I can’t forsee
When it crawls beneath my skin
Where aging wrinkles grow
Indifference is such an ugly color of the rainbow
The future already knows
That you are reaping the cause you sowed
And how does it affect the coming days?
When we run out of time to understand
That we will do it all again, that is cause and effect
Breathing the last breath is not the time to reflect
Will anyone be there to breathe it with you?
Or breathe it with me
when you show your love for me already died
Confusing again twisted truth, how it lied
We slowly, painfully run out of time
Who else knew you since the time we were born
The moment will be gone – no one aware
We will not know when it’s time to mourn
and we will not know it was the time to care
It will be gone

~~~~~~~

In 2010 I moved back to my home state to be near family because I was deathly ill. My mother begged me to, so I’d have family to support me. Only they were not so happy I came back. Now it is 2019 and nothing changed. I won’t get into that complicated mess. I wrote quite abit about it in past years.

One family member was my older sister. Most of my life we were not friends and as adults she believed a lie without asking me if it was true. She wanted nothing to do with me. We made ammends after 2010 and told each other we wouldn’t do that again. She was the only one who supported me through my illness. But her husband was not a very good man and he had control. He succeeded in turning her against me and she cut me off once again. She felt she had to make a choice. Her husband or her sister. She couldn’t have both and I lost her again. This poem I wrote for her but I haven’t sent it to her yet.

 

Dance With The Devil, Dance

devil-1427639_640

 

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL
Lurking in back of my eyes
Tasting the smells, seeing the ghosts
No matter how often I tried
Which memories shame me the most
It reminds me of where I’ve been
And how many miles I’ve gone
I tied it up in a garbage bag
And kept on walking alone

Too late, it caught up beside me
And said “Hi, where have you been?” 
It’s time to pay the price dear
You can’t run away from sin
You made a cause, the effect is now
There’s no choice, you can’t get away
You chose to play, it’s time to pay
It’s your end game, take a bow

It’s the game of games, winner takes all
You can’t run away, you’ll stumble and fall
If you lose there is no second chance
Dance with devil, dance dance

There is no way to get around it
Finish the hand life dealt
No matter the depth of pain it caused
No matter the fear you felt
It’s time for you to pay the price
There’s no choice, you can’t change the rules
You’re rolling the dice for your life
You can’t play me like I’m the fool

Years have passed, would you do it again
Knowing who you’ve become
Knowing how the game ends
When you thought you were having fun
Was it worth the price you had to pay
Would you do it different today
Looking in the mirror
Seeing scars that never fade

It’s the game of games, winner takes all
You can’t run away, you’ll stumble and fall
If you lose there is no second chance
Dance with the devil, dance dance
Dance with the devil, dance dance

Sonni Quick © 2019

(This is lyrics for new music)

The End Game – Poetry

hep c viris
photo source: hepfi.org

The End Game

Lurking in back of my eyes
Tasting the smells, seeing the ghosts
No matter how often I’ve tried
It reminds me where I’ve been
And how many miles I’ve gone
I tied it up in a garbage bag
And kept on walking alone

Too late, it caught up beside me
And said hi, where have you been?
It’s time to pay the price dear
You can’t run away from sin
You made a cause, the effect is now
There’s no choice, you can’t get away
You chose to play, it’s time to pay
It’s your end game, take a bow

 

by Sonni Quick ©2018

Post liver transplant /cancer survivor/2012

Also follow:  My Name is Jamie. Life in Prison

Is It Rain Or Tears-Music Video & Poetry

This is the latest music video for the book “Inside The Forbidden Outside,” along with poetry written for it. When it is published in both paperback and Ebook, I want the videos to open in each chapter and give emotion to each chapter. I’m not to sure how to do that or if it is even feasible but it’s worth a shot to find out. My brain works mysterious ways, lol, finding ways to make this more complicated as I write.  I see it in my head. It makes this whole project of writing and music more fun to do. Below are the words found in the video.

IS IT RAIN OR TEARS

Is it rain or is it tears
I felt it on my face
It seldom ceases through the years
Will time be able to erase
the scars created by the pain
I bow my head, the water flows
and cleanses all, a healing rain
The sense of calm a tear bestows

Is it rain or is it tears
I felt them one by one
the wetness soothing untold fears
my dying thirst will be undone
I close my eyes, reach out my hands
scrape my knuckles on the wall
blood mixes with the tears that land
to soothe the pain and heal it all

Is it rain or is it tears
Is it salty when you taste
wetness on your outstretched tongue
slowly falling from your face
The crying tears, the falling rain
mixes on your skin
Cools the heat and soothes the pain
and lets the hope again begin

                                   ©2018  Sonni Quick

 

im crying, sonni quick. karma, liver transplant
photo source: crazy4images.com

 

Twitter  @sonni-quick

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison    

SonniQuick   Main music website – music and videos. 2nd mailing list for music updates

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

SoundCloud – stream my music. 51 recordings promising to produce great dreams all night while you sleep.

YouTube  my channel is:  Sonni Quick Piano Improve

 

Ghosts in My Head

girl-2696947_1920

This is new music and poetry for a chapter in the book I’m writing. “Inside The Forbidden Outside,” which has gone through many changes since I began writing. Because it has been so labor intensive I have to believe there is a reason. I have to hope it will help Jamie when be gets out. He has read chapters, but he has heard no music being in prison. There will be so much to hear and read, especially on my other blog, My Name Is Jamie. There will be a video made for this music, too. All chapters will have music – about 50% is recorded, a music video ( 4th one being done) found at Sonni Quick Piano Improv – You Tube channel 

This music is a piece I really enjoyed playing. If I “try” to compose it usually ends up missing something. It doesn’t work. If it hits me in the middle of the night or I have to stop what I’m doing to go play my piano, it comes out and I don’t know where it comes from. Playing these pieces of music, and I can play them only once, feels so good. After that they are gone. I can only listen to the recording of it. The same with any poetry I write and I’m sure other poets understand – I read it for the first time when I’m done. 

In the book, which is written from letters, is Jamie’s story, but there is a place when it changes from the written words in the letters to me being real. I don’t want to say anymore about the story, but it is where this title comes from.

You can subscribe to the mailing list for my music stuff by going to  sonniquick.net

 

Where did you come from?” I cried
You raised your finger to your lips
and whispered, “No one can hear me
No one but you can see me
I’m a ghost in your head
To keep you company

I know the days are much too long
Use memories your mind creates
For days you don’t feel very strong
Endless time, will it ever end?
Around in circles never straight
Time goes slowly, round the bend

Years are passing, you see your age
Watch the moon all night long
I see your head lay in your hands
Wondering how it went so wrong
You always seem to lose so much
You tell yourself, I don’t understand

You need to reach your hand and touch
Feel the warmth of who is there
It makes you human, a worthy man
Even though no one’s left and no one cared
“But you,” you say “Here you stand”
“I could touch you,” and reach out your hand

How do I know you won’t disappear?
You kept me going, when I lost my way
I felt only anger, in my head there was fear
I couldn’t think there’d be hope someday
I wanted to tear these walls apart
I wanted to scream but no one would hear

You kept me sane. You fed me words
There is a reason for all of this
“Be patient,” you said, then I heard
“Imagine a life only you can see
There are ghosts in your head
You can learn to be free”

 

Sonni Quick ©2018

Picking up Broken Pieces – Poetry

Broken glass

Picking up Broken Pieces

Pieces falling one by one
Scattered at my feet
I bend and try to pick them up
but I couldn’t reach beneath
the bottom of the lowest stair
where broken dreams did sleep

I see flashes of my deepest dreams
Too late to make them true
Time has passed I can’t go back
I don’t know what to do
Pieces crumble into dust
when connecting even two

They cut my fingers if I try
Blood seeps between my fingers
When I try to hold my broken dreams
the scent of memories linger
The pain, the loss of years gone by
The echo of no answer.

 

This poem is on the newest music video I’m making. It should be ready in a couple days – hopefully. The rewriting of my book “Inside The Forbidden Outside”  has taken quite awhile since I began writing.  Because I write piano music I began recording a soundtrack for each chapter. A month ago I started making videos and adding poetry, so it is a four part project. What began as a book on Jamie Cummings life in prison has become much more. Time intensive it certainly is.

I decided to publish the poetry so you can read it at one time. In the video you’ll see it one line at a time throughout the video. The poetry has the same title as the music, which is also the title of a chapter in the book, which is in the 2nd draft stage.

I have posted a few chapters I have written but I haven’t posted this one. You will find them on many other blog. If you do a search on the title of the book it will even pull up the first draft chapters.

The title of this poem correlates to the time during Jamie’s prison term when he finally has to mentally deal with, and accept, loss. In the beginning he had an unrealistic hope that if he was good he could get out soon. The 17 year sentence hadn’t really sunk in. I think that is most likely common thing with most people if it is their first time in prison. How did anyone deal with the ride to prison, go through the red tape – alone – and face a prison for the first time with men you had to present the right face to. Taking care of yourself now had a new meaning,

Losing a woman he loved, losing the role of being a father, quickly losing the support of his family, who no longer came to see him enough to pretend it counted. Three to five years between visits – maybe. He lost any type of meaningful communication with anyone in his family, and he never had any friends who mattered.  No one answered his letters. On rare occasions his grandmother wrote and told him some things that happened, long after they happened, but they weren’t the type of letters where he could write back and forth about what he was going through.

He came to the point of realizing he had to accept it and let it go. He knew that to keep waiting for someone to write, and making excuses for them in his head, had to stop. He didn’t want to think about why they were too busy to answer even one of his letters.  He had to make it okay or it ripped him apart. He didn’t want to think he didn’t matter. It was painful and he was lonely, but he had to get it right in his head.

People in the free world could never imagine life in a small cell completely a-l-o-n-e without anyone who gave a damn. Many of the men he met inside had no one who cared. And no one who helped get the small necessities that made their existence tolerable.

I got angry. I was angry at his mother for saying she didn’t write to Jamie because it hurt HER too much. 12 years, and it hurt HER. Damn, it makes me angry when I write these words. She said them to me and she also said them to Jamie during one of her rare visits. He lost everything and everyone and it hurt to think he was never a priority in his family’s lives. So he had to put it away. He couldn’t change it. It was these feelings of loss he couldn’t change that prompted this poem, “Picking up Broken Pieces”. The music is sad and melancholy. For me it tells the story. You can hear it here.

When I started writing to Jamie in 2007 how could I stop? How could I justify abandoning him, too. It was a commitment. I looked forward too his letters. We’ve sent over 800 by now. It is a diary of his life. It needed too become a book.

He is the father of one of my grandsons. That made him family. Okay, my daughter moved on. She wanted to leave him behind. She had to. 17 years when you are only in your mid twenties is too much separation – unless you had no choice, like Jamie. She later resented me for writing to him. She was trying to forget him and I wouldn’t let her. I’m sorry if it was painful for her, but I want going to stop writing fot that reason.  If he wasn’t able to have anyone in his life then there was no way I would abandon him, too. He needed me. Our letters were deep and thought provoking, making him think beyond what had happened and realize why it happened. If you spend a lot of time in a solitary cell and don’t have the right things to think about, you go nuts. Many do. It was important to me to teach him ideas about life and how to change direction. Him being okay and being through this was important to me. Out of 17 years has had only 5 to go. Only 5. A long time still, but time is passing.

Several years ago I started his blog: My Name is Jamie.  Many off the posts are portions off his letters. Then came the idea of writing his story. I did a tremendous amount of research and reading to understand our prison system. I also started the monthly  newsletter – ITFO News. (I’d publish more often but I don’t have the time unless I can get some – free – help from someone who believes I what I do.

This second blog, Watch and Whirl and trying to keep up with social media is all day ( night) project. In my off hours I write and record music.

This is what Jamie has done for me. He gave me a life – a profession that is much enhanced from what it was. We have been there for each other. There is much more to the story. If you haven’t yet, go to the other blog and start with the white pages at the top,

Enjoy, Learn and Understand. Become a penpal with an inmate who would cherish your letters about a life he can’t live behind walls. Most inmates are not what the media portrays.

Sonni

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If you know an inmate who writes poetry or is an artist or has a story you’d like to tell you can email me at: itfonews@gmail.com

My personal music website  – sonniquick.net

Jamie Life in Prison at Facebook . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world

My Name is Jamie. Life in Prison – blog on Jamie’s life and other articles on our prison. Educate yourself to reality, not what mainstream media tells you.

Waiting . . . too long – The Poem

book writing

WAITING . . . TOO LONG

Waiting . . . too long
Days that never seem to end
Hours that pass, am I that strong
I watch them curve around the bend
Many weeks, months and years
I watch the sky beyond the bars
Eyes slowly close to keep the tears
From falling down my face like stars
That light my life and keep me sane
While days that never seem to end
And wonder why I live at all
The only life I can pretend
Knees on the ground so I can crawl
Through these years that no one sees
Or cares to sooth this broken heart
I beg no more, I can’t say please
One more time or hope will start
I can’t beg to wait again
As minutes tick and days go by
Days that never seem to end
Beyond the bars I watch the sky.

By Sonni Quick copyright 2018

This is the poem that goes with the chapter in my book, “Inside The Forbidden Outside”, with the same name. I recently posted that chapter as I continue to work on the book. A little father down the posts is also the music video made for this chapter. The other chapters also have piano music recorded and videos in the making. It’s the major reason why it has taken so long as I attempt to keep up my blogs and newsletter and the infernal social media. It takes tremendous time. So with patience I continue to work out the intricate puzzle pieces as I try to write a book work reading. In my imagination I see it as a movie worth making. Because Jamie’s life is width saving since no one in his life gives a damn but me.