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Michael A. Guy

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Member Since: Aug, 2007

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Bluff (Hardcover Edition)
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Lark Chadwick is back in the sequel to Fast Track..  
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A Day in 1955
by Michael A. Guy
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Michael A. Guy
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           >> View all 78

This is not a song but a poem to go along with a family photo from 1955 and as a dedication to my Mom's passing a few years ago.

The music to accompany it is a NEW PIANO SOLO I just recorded to feature as a new track on my upcoming release of a second CD: "IN MEMORY ONLY" this summer 2008
(CLICK open a new window to my webpage to hear the piano music)while you read the poem below. Thanks for listening, it hasn't been easy getting recorded lately down her living by 'ol Lake Stinkhole' in Florida!!


SUNDAY MORNING ALONE, a new piano solo recorded on 4/20/08 by Michael Guy (in a Jazz/Americana style

A Day in 1955(revisted)
The story of our lives, was written in our eyes,
One day in the year: 1955
Four generations pose for a portrait
And, in each & every face written there
A hint of every event and place (to unfold) -
Now a backward glance of fifty years -
Views down a trail of joys & tears…
A trail of hopes and fears…
Leading here, past our prime under the slow ripening of time.
 
Where do we find ourselves?
Given certain people ve in our lives
If we would choose our families
WE would choose the wealthy & wise,
God gives us all these very ones to care for –
Cherish the ones you’re with,
        And leave your heart open like an open door.
Where do you find yourself?
In some dirty, neon small town?
You think you’d been smarter,
        You would have turned it all around –
Live in L.A. or London or somewhere else –
You can still turn to each other and
Love your own and give to one another
Your brother, your sister, the lonely kid down the block -
        And of course your own mother…
 
The last place I find myself is the first place
         I should want to be
When you can’t go on:
Just turn to each other
Love now and be free…
And the first place that I find myself,
        May be the last place I’ll ever be –
Turn to each other – when you can’t go on
Love now or it will never be.
 
For: Beatrice, my mother who died 3 years ago on April 22, 2005
 
c. 2008, Michael A. Guy, all rights reserved.
 
The Last Renaissance Man

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Reviewed by John Leko
...Michael...perhaps I feel closest to this piece...for the family photo...closest to my heart...I know these...I have them...and know the years as many do...that pass...as places become vacant in the cameras eye...somehow no longer in the sun...but remembered yet in light. I am moved by the movement of your music in this piece and the strong and loving smile...your Mother...captured in the shuttered light...and you...new to light...she knowing that you would find it...because she held it herself. Surrounding family bring meaning to the photograph...and your words remind us of moments...timing...and most important...to love and remember...for when all light is lost...a photograph held...can yet hold something...missing.
somehow I find this close to your heart and one of your best...
John
Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge (Reader)
What a pleasure to read Michael...you have been mightly blessed to have had the privilage of having such a wonderful Mom. Blessings my friend, love holly
Reviewed by Regis Auffray
A fine tribute; a gift well-shared, Michael. Thank you. Love and peace to you,

Regis
Reviewed by Charlie
My grandmother died April 23, 2006-- my mother was to follow that October. Sometimes there is just a wave that comes over me and leaves my soul wet with love and longing-- two great women who loved long and well, and (I might add) without clinging or giving unwanted advice. All the advice I was ever given, I asked for. I need go no further than my own memories of her to find lasting, unconditional love-- enduring love that spills over to my own children, who (I hope and pray) will be given similar treatment.

Why is it that so often we see the cruelest of behavior occurring within family-- sworn to love and honor and cherish, and women, children, and often men are subjected to such indifference and just meanness? I even find myself lashing out at my husband/family at times-- It's not a pretty thing. I think on my mother, and can honestly not recall a cruel thing she ever said about anyone. Oh, to be like that! --Charlie
Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
Very meloncholy and passionate piece, yet bring beauty and love to one's soul for family is all we have years down the road. In music all is kept close and alive in the heart...

Be always safe,
Karen
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader)
Excellent writing dear man....wonderful...stay safe and well...Hugs
Reviewed by Staci Gansky-Wagner
Wonderful tribute/lyrics/music. Mom's always love forever within us no matter how many years pass on by. Photos are also a great way to capture special moments.
Reviewed by E T Waldron
Heartfelt splendid tribute to your mom,music is special and the family pic is a joy to see ! Thank you for sharing Michael!

Love,
ET
Reviewed by Andre Bendavi ben-YEHU
Blessed are those that value the family, for they will never lose their identities.

"A Day in 1955" sings to life and family's togetherness.

Thank You for sharing this wise and profound composition.

In admiration,

I salute You, Poet.

Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
P.S.: The author of "A Day in 1955" still have the holy light of the boy in the picture.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
A sweet, sad tone comes through. Not in the poem, but in the piano's lilting notes, like raindrops on a lonely Sunday morning.

My mom still lives, wrote me today, a brings back memories of songs she sang to us while cooking for us.

Ron
Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater
Great tribute to your mom, Michael. This says so much about familial ties and how we should hang on to those we love, even after they're gone. The spirit lives on here in A Day in 1955. See you over at CTI, Michael.

Warmly,
Sage
Reviewed by Walt Hardester
Excellent Mike. I see my contemporaries are doing well. Your writing has improved a tremendous amount. I'm proud to know you.

Walt
Reviewed by Bernice Lakota
How beautiful your mom was/is...she reminds me of one of those classic beauties in those old black and white movies. That was to say the very least Michael, a beautiful and heartfelt poem and piano solo. The photo is priceless...what a beautiful day captured in 1955!!! I love it!
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