“Who Knows?” video

I made a silly video to go along with my latest song. I put it on YouTube and have embedded it here for you to enjoy, as well. All the video clips come from the free video clip library of Clip Champ. I couldn’t find a way to give credits for each individual clip, as no data on who created them was available via the Clip Champ interface. It was fun putting it together in Clip Champ, which is a Microsoft app that I’d never used before. There are over 1800 free clips I could choose from to make this.

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“Who knows?”

So, I’ve not written many songs or poetry lately. But, the other day, after doing a five hour loving-kindness retreat the day before, the lyrics to this started coming to me while I was in the shower. I tried to ignore them at first, thinking, this is silly. Then I thought, why not have some fun. So, here is a silly song about who knows what.

I had fun coming up with the rhymes that day, although I can’t vouch for their originality. They worked in my song, too, at least, but I have no idea what part of the sky they fell out of. Today, I came up with variations on the melody for each of the verses. My kitty joined me during one of the choruses, which I thought was cute and didn’t edit out. He knows, too. Sometimes more than I do, for sure.

No one ever knows what to expect in Michigan weather. This year, February had some warm days in the high 60s, and now in March it is freezing. That explains the third verse; the rest I’ll let you figure out.

Here in the shower, spinning in circles,
Trying to warm myself up,
Skin like a raisin,
Eczema blazing,
Knock knock, I know, hurry up;
Knock knock, I know hurry up.

Oh, I know, oh, I know.
Oh, I know, oh, I know.

What do you say to the one who has nothing?
Wow, oh, I’m sorry, that sucks.
As they stare in dismay,
Try to hide the display,
Of your row of impeccable ducks;
Of your row of impeccable ducks.

Oh, you know, oh, you know.
Oh, you know, oh, you know.

February teased us, gratuitous temptress,
Soon spring would be singing along,
March hit us blindsided,
Our hopes are derided,
Icicle weather prolonged;
Icicle weather prolonged.

Oh, we know, oh, we know.
Oh, we know, oh we know.

Be a good hamster, run on your wheel,
Working so hard just to try,
But what is enchanted,
Yet can’t be decanted,
Open your heart to the sky;
Open your heart to the sky.

Oh, who knows, oh, who knows?
Oh, who knows, oh, who knows?

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This is a duet for violin and cello. I started writing this in 2016 when I was taking composition lessons. My teacher asked me to come up with a melody and write a counterpoint for it. My first try wasn’t very good, so she helped me write the first part of the counterpoint (the cello part).

Years later, I revisited the song and decided to revive it. On piano, I worked out the melody and what I remembered of the counterpoint to the first part, which my teacher helped me write. This is very similar to that version, but there are a few slight changes. I then reworked the melody to be easier to write counterpoint for the rest of it and finally worked out a new counterpoint for the rest of it. It only took me 7 years.

I continue to have melodies come to me, and I sing them into my phone if I like them. At times, I turn them into simple songs for piano or cello that I play in the privacy of my home. Once in a while, I work one up and turn it into a composition for multiple instruments. I use Finale as my composition software, and the ones I post here are the playback using Garritan virtual instruments.

I find great joy and satisfaction from this process when I am able to engage in it.

Image by MrsKirk72 from Pixabay

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You will never know me, and I will turn to stone

Behind death walks skeletons. Every skeleton. None escape.
All do the only thing they can — follow death.

Forever walking the endless roads, the same roads on which we walk today.
That is the only path.

We may delude ourselves, but we all will end up in the crowd — skeletons, following death.
Until humanity is a whisper of a memory of what once was and what will never be again.

It all ends the same.

But does it matter? Do we matter? Do I matter? Do you?

Death doesn’t care.
We don’t care.

We make of it what we do, and then it is over.

We are real.

Consigned to the army of death, we have one chance.
One life. One world.

Be real.


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Afraid to Sleep

When you’re afraid to sleep because of what you’ll learn
Anything would be better
Than knowing
But not being able to say a word to anyone
Without forgetting everything.

I don’t know if they are who they say they are or if all this time I’ve been on the wrong side.

They won’t let me know.

Once you connect, there is no disconnecting.

I don’t think I can do this anymore, but I know I have no choice.

And I won’t remember anything. Again.

This will make no sense.

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