Tag Archives: Music


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She danced to funk
writhing and swaying
to strong riffs and heavy

She moved to hard
rhythms still loose
laughing at intense

She forgot about
everything and nothing
getting down on

Northern Sky by Nick Drake

Resting, healing, listening–this song carries me back somewhere into the mist of childhood.

93 Million Miles ~Jason Mraz

I Won’t Give up~Jason Mraz

Hope is the feeling that the feeling you have isn’t permanent. ~Jean Kerr



drums pounds
thrums chest
palpitates passion
life’s downbeat
and syncopates

© Pamela Rossow



your first ancestors
had geographic ridges
purple-blue crisscrosses
once slashed gaping open
crimson that mouthed
“wade in the water chillan” 

you called people
responded the blues
bent in depressed
trances third fifth and
seventh like pancakes
flattened by a spatula

you ragged people
shagged under red
lights to a syncopated
rhythm AABBACCC no
more cakewalks just sexy
marches and falling Maple Leaves 

© Pamela A. Rossow




staccato notes swirl
round two hiding
between bar lines
attempting a grand
staff she a trembling
treble he a bold bass
together no rests just
a half note plus a half note
trying to make a whole

© Pamela Rossow

Smooth Jazz Saturday

Yep, it’s a smooth jazz kinda day in SoFlo–0vercast, chilly, gloomy. Perfect day for writing interspersed with some old school jazz like Chet Baker, Miles Davis, and John Coltrane. Some modern artists as well like Diana Krall, Norah Jones, and my favorite, Kurt Elling. Hope you all are enjoying your weekend wherever in the world you are!

You Found Me

I’m supposed to be resting.  Of course, being on a computer isn’t really resting.  And writing isn’t resting.  I never said I was a compliant patient.  However, I am in bed (that must count for something).  With my laptop.  Writing.  “Stunada” as my Nonnie would have said.  Not in the “out there” sense but in the stubborn, sorta stupid sense (sorry Nonnie). I was recently talking to a good friend late one night.  We’ve both been on this crazy rollercoaster called “Life.”  We’ve had similar experiences, felt the same at times, and, at other moments, diverged.  Our relationship, though, no matter what we are thinking, feeling, or hoping, remains granite solid.  I mentioned a song (by The Fray) on my daughter’s iPod (yes, I borrowed it for a few minutes while outside getting a little vitamin D).  This song asks a lot of questions (yeah, yeah, I know, I can relate), is kinda dark, and, although I’ve heard it at least thirty times, it was the first time I really listened to the words.   I asked my friend if she heard it before (nearly everyone has) and if she knew what the lyrics meant.  I couldn’t identify exactly what touched me about it but I felt it draw me in, put a warm blanket around my shoulders, and nestle a steaming cup of tea in my hands. I didn’t feel alone.  I felt . . . comforted.  Music, as an art form, has that capability (one of the reasons I appreciate it so much). My friend sent me an email with a link to the lyrics as explained by the lead singer and pianist.  I didn’t care that the song was so popular it made it onto various countries’ billboard charts or what TV show used clips of it (even though it’s all true). It spoke to me where I was (where I am). In a place I’ve never been before.  Where, depending on the day, I question God’s existence.  Many before me have been here, many are here now, and many more will visit in the future.  I’m not sure of what my future holds.  It’s okay.  Even in this space, I’m banking that He hasn’t abandoned me.  That He still loves me perfectly (like no other can). That His silence is because, when He does speak again, I will not question that it’s Him.  I will be certain.

My Brother

My brother, David, is one of those amazing people you are fortunate to meet once in a lifetime.  I was lucky to grow up with him and we still have a great relationship.  It couldn’t have been easy spending an entire childhood with me.  I was known for my creative fiction:  “sharks” in the deep end of the pool, “hauntings” in the house around the corner, and plastic “bugs” that would await him as he crawled into bed.  However, God forbid, anyone mess with my younger brother!  We got along so well in high school that, many people we worked with, didn’t  know we were brother and sister!  Awesome!  So, this is a tribute to the man who is a best friend, the person who has modeled for me independence and dream pursuing, who works harder than anyone I know, who is the best dad my niece and nephew could ask for, and, who was and is, the most amazing brother a sister could hope for.  Dee, I love you and am so proud of your accomplishments!  Your musical talents are incredible and your intrinsic feats. . . priceless!