STP

I grew up on Stone Temple Pilots and when Scott Weiland died a few years ago, it made me sad. He, obviously, had a troubled life and couldn’t conquer addiction. I loved their music and he had a great voice. I had an idea for a tribute poem; it may be trite, but it sums up my 20s with titles and lyrics from STP.


Creep along the interstate
Love song plays when I show up late

And I feel it–empty inside
This sour girl is Lonesome’s bride

Though my scarred-up heart still remains
Days of the week in tight-gripped reins

And so I know, and so it goes
Plush is the place where shallow grows

The dogs do find me, Smell on the street
Make my way to collapse at your feet

And as I lay my troubled head
Vasoline on plain, white bread

RIP S.

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We Are the Lost Souls

My daughter Lillian wrote a song last year. I think it’s one of the most brilliantly written songs I’ve ever heard. I know I’m biased, we’re related. She’s the fruit of my loins. But dang! It’s cool.

She recorded the music using a computer, multi-track digital recorder and singing her own lyrics. She sang harmony for her own voice and laid the tracks down together. I’m really proud of her effort here. She’s only 13 and I can’t wait to hear what she will do in the future. She also did another song for talent show this year too. Imaginary Friends

She also did a funny little parody with Dad and I helping out. Baby, It’s Cold Outside

This next song is about the Terracotta Army. Really meaningful look and unique perspective of those soulless sculptures. Her teacher covered the Terracotta soldiers in history last year and Lilli was fascinated by the topic. So, when she’s obsessed with a subject, she gets inspired and writes songs. Like ya do.

I love the modern sound and well-thought out words. I helped with some minor editing, but she did all the hard work composing, singing and recording. Without further ado, here’s Terracotta Souls by Lillian Maggio. Really cool, hope you enjoy it.

Trapped

This is another story my daughter wrote. She won an award for this one. PTA Reflections 2017 awarded her honorable mention at state level for Missouri, junior high division. Really proud.

“What is Your Story?” was the theme this year. Lilli’s story is a little sad, but truthful and daring. Her piece is a great perspective on writing and art creation, in general. A true reflection of how many artists feel about revealing their work. It’s risky to put your heart on the line. But brave to try!

lil award.jpg
Here she is walking across the stage, accepting her award!

“Trapped Inside My Own Mind” by Lillian Maggio

Isn’t it strange? I love to compose music, and I love imagining the way it will sound. I take joy in writing the lyrics and listening to my accompaniment played with clunky digital sounds, but I absolutely detest my own voice. In addition, I can’t play any instrument, so I have hardly any idea how to write music for another person to play. I hate the concept of someone else singing for me, because I know in my heart that they wouldn’t do my song justice. I’m afraid to ask a musician for help because I don’t know if my songs can even be played. So I compose scores which I am proud of and rejoice in, yet no one really ever hears my music but me.

I love thinking up beautiful and magical characters with complex and wonderful designs and personalities, but I hate the style in which I draw, so their appearance remains a mystery. I’m so petrified that I’ll make a mistake or portray them wrong that I can never portray them at all. I long to use my art to bring light and wonder to the world, to tell a story that hasn’t been told before, but I’m so afraid that my story will be incomplete and riddled with flaws. So my characters are never brought to life, never see the light of day.

I love to write, and I would love even more to be recognized for my talent. I write based on my own experiences, sometimes even making up fantastical worlds all by myself. Still, I can never bring myself to actually try and publish any of my works. I tell myself that I don’t have a chance, that I’ll never become popular and that no one will ever read, let alone care about, what I have to say. Or, even worse, that someone will see my work and copy it, claiming my creation as their own while I can do nothing. So I hide everything I do, far from where anyone could see or hear it.

I’m trapped inside my own mind. My worst adversary is, in reality, myself; my own fear. I can’t show everyone all the amazing stories I’ve been dying to tell. And it’s because I’m holding myself back, preventing myself from sharing my thoughts and ideas with the world.

So I can’t tell my story. I’m far too afraid.

Heart Full of Art

There is always a darkness we agree to hide.
A terrible, small voice from deep inside.
Calling the suicide to leave the ledge.
Begging for blood on a sharp knife’s edge.

It robs the notes from the bird that sings.
It steals the strain from the violin’s strings.
If you’re brilliant and sensitive and full of expression,
Luck would have it, you’re prone to depression.

We ignore the urging or we simply comply.
But we never solve the complexity of why.
One day, my darling, you shall find your smile.
Until then, keep looking, it may take a while.