Author: Kelsey With Some Jo

People love to talk about other people

and it’s either crude or annoying.

There’s more to talk about than

her and they and that politician.

It’s better for open conversation

like a gift exchange

and I get that intimacy with

unfamiliar acquaintances—

the ones you would never expect…

Yet, even they are unreliable

and selfish.

But we talk about ideas, insights,

or we share new gestures—

new moments to play back

for later.

I get it mostly from men—

admittedly,

to the people who talk about people

I’m a poor girl looking to become

or needing to look to become

something married.

But I did it.

So the guys now are like a

bottle of empty honey

and it’s probably time

I throw it away.

Instead I scrape at the sides

and leave it upside down,

let it drip slowly to the lid.

The sweetest honey

is at the bottom of a empty bottle.

The mind of a woman

might leave you strangled,

might leave you blind

but never will it leave you

to stay behind.

 

The mind of a woman

might kick up some dust,

might kick up a city

but never will it kick up

to settle you empty.

 

The mind of a woman

might laugh and cry,

might laugh and smile

but never will it laugh

to lie to a child.

 

The mind of a woman

might start then stop,

might start from doubt

But never will it start

to finish in a drought.

 

The mind of a woman

can be many moments.

 

The mind of a woman

can be without moment.

 

Take a moment.

 

Take a moment.

 

 

I saw the world

From the eyes of a misfit girl

Full of limitations, disappointments, fear

 

But then, my eyes were widened

To a pop

And the world spilled out some truth

 

So, I took notice

And I saw the world

And how it measured

 

Truth is:

It wasn’t fitting

It was missing

It was lost

And gone forever

 

When I saw this

 

I lost the

Girl

I lost the girl

And the world

From the eyes of a misfit girl

The sound of the rain

Falls like the sound

Of my heart

 

A river falling

To a tidy sea

Sounds like rain

 

Love taken all of me

My heart lies to me

She can’t trust the rain

 

When the tide rises

The river is silent and gone

She’s swallowed up

 

Love come sharp to

A soft beating heart

A river flowing from tide to sea

 

It sounds like rain

When the tide comes in

To carry the river free

 

My heart and soul

Cry sounds of rain

The tide has come to go

I saw a confederate flag once

Hanging on the kiosk

Of a gas station in Indiana

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Who thought it was well

To see a for sale?

Reminding us of

Black dust

From chain’s rust?

Hanging men

From trees to keep

White prodigies?

Wow. It’s not that serious–

Only it’s history

Which created

Present luxury

So why does our country

Thinks it’s fly

To have a flag

We don’t pledge to

Hanging in a state

We belong to?

– Kelsey Jo

I look different to them

You see it in my thighs

But I’m white

Only my thoughts are black

And my heart’s black

When I’m left alone

In the dark

And my space attacks

My mind to see

The truth in the culture

And my loss

In submissive lies

I take my passive aggression

And I bite your sessions

Into a lesson

On my black confession

Let it sink in

Like quick sand

On my hand

It’s a dream

Of a child of destiny

She’s searching

For the answer

Just a little child

Not much to mistake

With her sharp eyed

Pains and open disdain

For what’s evil and vain

If she shoots too soon

She’ll miss the target

She knows

Make the arrow

Sink to the center

Of the target’s heart

Take the dream

With both hands

Hold it fast

So it won’t collapse

Aim again

Only once

Square those shoulders

Make yourself bolder

Now shoot

And hear the target cry

Dreams achieved

In the blink of an eye

The child lives

The target dies

– Kelsey Jo

The world is beautiful

and you are wonderful.

I see people shrinking

in towns–waiting; wasting.

To say it’s a judgement

to speak the truth

would confine the youth

from breaking loose.

So here’s some truth,

for the hopeless few:

The world is vast,

yet you know your past.

Frozen, afraid, and doubtful

you’ll last

You stay awake in your slumber

The years turning to numbers.

You know you waste

and yet make no haste.

Quick! Get out! Go!

You are your greatest foe.

Be strong–

No one else has your heart.

If you shrink now

who will do your part?

Sweat dropped down Her back as She inhaled the sweetness of a crowd of hundreds of people.

She knew the day would come and She knew She would be the result of such chaos and excitement.

Appreciation, celebration–for the evolution and brilliance in music.

A can of beer burst open spraying the small crowd in the center and aggressive laughter dominoed. Everyone turned to see a group of frat boys with red faces dripping in beer.

The crowd was

Massive.

Like walking through an explosion of people. The stage was the rocket and everyone wanted on.

She stood tall and pointed at the crowd speaking into the microphone welcoming the students, faculty, and staff.

Someone disrupted Her welcome with a yell and everyone turned to see a student standing in a tree. He danced around and some people laughed.

But the explosion was still happening, and the rocket would soon take off, so they turned their attention back to Her.

She started the countdown and they waited…

They didn’t know but She built that rocket ship…

And in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 the artists entered the stage and the show took off.

It was a moment to stop and appreciate the ones who take life and words and instruments and synchronicity and passion and pain and create…

MUSIC

A moment to celebrate the victory and loss of human life crafted together by a community of often underrepresented groups of people (the musicians, the artists, the lyricists, the songwriters, the creators, the hearts, the minds).

These people are the ones we build the rocket ships (stages) for and it’s them who take us to the stars.

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“Music is a core human experience and generative processes reflect cognitive capabilities. Music is often functional because it is something that can promote human well-being by facilitating human contact, human meaning, and human imagination of possibilities, tying it to our social instincts. Cognitive systems also underlie musical performance and sensibilities. Music is one of those things that we do spontaneously, reflecting brain machinery linked to communicative functions, enlarged and diversified across a broad array of human activities. Music cuts across diverse cognitive capabilities and resources, including numeracy, language, and space perception. In the same way, music intersects with cultural boundaries, facilitating our “social self” by linking our shared experiences and intentions.

This draws us together and, as a social species, remains essential to us; a chorus of expression in being with others, that fundamental feature of our life and of our evolutionary ascent. Music is indeed, as Timothy Blanning noted, a grand “triumph” of the human condition, spanning across cultures to reach the greatest of heights in the pantheon of human expression, communication, and well-being. It is in everything (Cross, 1999; Huron, 2001).”

– Kelsey Jo

…Dedicated to The Man on The Stage…

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The quoted statement above was taken from an article on the Frontiers Media SA website titled “The Evolution of Music and Human Social Capability”, written by Jay Schulkin and Greta B. Raglan (also both being the primary researchers).

Here is a link to the article:

https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnins.2014.00292/full