Air-piano and poetry for the Holidays
Ready for the Holidays? I just want to thank everyone for coming out to the Trolley Stop on a dreary Monday night to listen to Emily, Whitney and myself. The crowd was feeling a little feisty. Does anyone know who the guy was who played air piano and guitar through my set? He was pretty good. Anyway, I was reminded that it was in October of last year at a girl/solo/live show at the Trolley when I first actually met Ray Bigelow. He sent me a poem that he wrote that evening while watching the performances. It's called, The Cold and She and it's really cool. However, I seemed to have misplaced it so I thought you would all enjoy this instead:
"My Favourite Goth Things"
Friday, February 06, 2004 Fairborn, OH
Blooddrops on roses and morbid obsession
Pasty white faces, despair and depression
Chrome-studded collars chained to nipple rings
These are a few of my favourite things
Anorexic vampires bound in black leather
Darkness at midnight and inclement weather
Demons that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favourite things
Goth girls in corsets with gloomy mascara
Doc Marten boots stomping hard on viscera
Sleeping in grave yards and feeling Death's sting
These are a few of my favourite things
When the sun shines
When the birds sing
When I'm feeling glad
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I can feel ... so sad
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Who else would like to share?
Have a Great Thanksgiving,
Rhonda
"My Favourite Goth Things"
Friday, February 06, 2004 Fairborn, OH
Blooddrops on roses and morbid obsession
Pasty white faces, despair and depression
Chrome-studded collars chained to nipple rings
These are a few of my favourite things
Anorexic vampires bound in black leather
Darkness at midnight and inclement weather
Demons that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favourite things
Goth girls in corsets with gloomy mascara
Doc Marten boots stomping hard on viscera
Sleeping in grave yards and feeling Death's sting
These are a few of my favourite things
When the sun shines
When the birds sing
When I'm feeling glad
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I can feel ... so sad
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Who else would like to share?
Have a Great Thanksgiving,
Rhonda
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