Name: Mmmmmm by michmobi
Duration: 29 min 58 s
Description: A creation fable of the origin of sound, the connection of humans to earth, and the futility of language

wonderful story I love it and I loved hearing you tell the story of creating it thank you for sharing you're beautiful talents

It’s funny how the what we do becomes the who we are-
a lifetime of tomorrows passes by.
And, flipping through my journal is like picking at a scar-
the pages thick with ink that just won’t dry.

Oh, I have tried a hundred ways to end this bitter journey.
And time can hide, but not erase, the truth that I’m still learning…

That wanting to change is not the same as being able to
And knowing what’s wrong is not enough to know what I should do.
Oh, but all that I can do is try, to take it each day at a time
and let it be enough
in the meantime.

I drew a line into the sand, but it all blew away.
Each promise to myself was just a lie.
And through those many years I never bothered once to pray
To buried in my fears to even try.

The free will I’ve been running with is feeling kinda costly.
In private moments, I’ll admit, the path has kinda lost me…
Cuz wanting to change is not the same as being able to
And knowing what’s wrong is not enough to know what I should do.
Oh, but all that I can do is try, to take it each day at a time
and let it be enough
in the meantime.

Believe me I quit my job, I quit my life.
I quit my love- I’m nobody’s wife.
I cleansed my soul in the Jordan River Valley.
I climbed the highest mountain, and then I flew a kite.
But I’m still on, the same damn page of life.

Cuz wanting to change is not the same as being able to
And knowing myself is not enough to know what I should do.
Oh, but all that I can do is try, to take it each day at a time
and let it be enough
in the meantime.

Meantime

All the love is stronger, now-
I call you sisters and brothers.
And, I’m not saying that it’s easy, somehow,
but I don’t believe there are others.

All the dark is softer, now-
I glide right over the ridges.
And I’m not saying that it’s easy, somehow,
but at least I’m not digging ditches.

All the love is stronger now
All the love is stronger now,
All the dark is softer now,
All the dark is.

All the love is stronger, now-
I feel the beauty awaken
And, I’m not saying that it’s easy, somehow,
but it’s giving more than its taking.

All the dark is softer, now-
I stand up tall to bear witness
And I’m not saying that it’s easy, somehow,
but at least my skin’s got some thickness.

All the love is stronger now
All the love is stronger now,
All the dark is softer now,
All the dark is.

All the love is stronger, now-
I feel it rising within me.
One day it will be easy, somehow,
If we just keep on believing…

All the love is stronger now
All the love is stronger now,
All the dark is softer now,
All the dark is.

All The Love Is

OberDoIt
Writing about everything- by Michele Oberholtzer
MenuSkip to content
Home
About
Activism
Fabulations
Favorites
Left of East
Poetry
Songs
The Moth
Writing Series
Mama Song
POSTED ON AUGUST 26, 2018
Video

My mama knows when I am aching,
she can feel it in her soul.
My mama knows the smile I faking,
when I’ve got nowhere to go.

And in my older years, it’s hard to keep my pride up on the shelf.
But mama gives it when I ask her for some help.

(She tells me)
Show me where it hurts,
so I know exactly where to send my love.
Show me where it hurts,
so I know exactly where to send my love.

I wanna feel the peace awaken-
shadows fading from our eyes.
I wanna stop the earth from shaking-
separate the truth from lies.
But, with these recent fears, it’s hard enough to trust in my own self.
And so I seek her when I’ve got nobody else.

(She tells me)
Show me where it hurts,
so I know exactly where to send my love.
Show me where it hurts,
so I know exactly where to send my love.

Mama Mama Calling.
Mama Mama Crying .
Mama Mama Calling.
Bring Your Love To Me.

(And she’ll say)
Show me where it hurts,
so I know exactly where to send my love.
Show me where it hurts,
so I know exactly where to send my love.

Show Me Where it Hurts (Mama Song)

My baby gardens at night,
She gets that midnight dirt inside of her fingernails.
I wonder what it feels like
To hear the secrets of the earth that she never tells.
And so what- maybe she’s crazy,
to spend her time creating beauty she’ll never see.
But when the moon hits the sky
I wanna find her, wanna flower, wanna garden at night.

My baby prays to the light,
She gets those noonday rays on back of her eyeball lids.
I wonder what it feels like
To see the majesty of god in the roy-g-biv.
And so what- maybe she’s crazy,
to give her sight to a divine that will make her blind.
But with the sun in my eye,
I wanna find her, wanna honor, wanna pray to the light.

My baby sings through the fright,
she’s got the note antidote for those salty tears.
I wonder what it feels like,
to know the lullaby that tucks in your deepest fears.
And so what- maybe she’s crazy,
to chose the serenade instead of the fight or flight
But when the terror runs high
I wanna find her, wanna tenor, wanna sing through the fright.

Flower Honor Tenor

Oh Lord won’t you buy me a Model T Ford?
The bus just ain’t coming and my feet are sore
worked hard at the factory til it motored no more,
oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Model T Ford?

Oh Lord won’t you buy me a flatscreen TV?
The Fox Problem Solvers are trying to find me,
first they’ll pay my taxes, and then DTE,
oh Lord won’t you buy me a flat screen TV?

Oh lord won’t you buy me a night on Greektown?
The Treasure’s downstairs lord, so let’s win this round
A straight and I’ll love you; a flush I’m reborn,
oh lord, won’t you buy me a night on Greektown?

Oh lord won’t you buy me a pizza franchise?
This whole Future City is passing me by
I’m hot and I’m ready for a piece of the pie,
oh lord won’t you buy me a pizza franchise?

Oh lord won’t you buy me a house in the burbs?
This one will never get featured on Curbed.
Detroit does not want me, though I wanted her,
oh lord won’t you buy me a house in the burbs?

Model - T Ford

Here you are right at my feet
you’re unassuming, solid, sweet.
You fit so tight and so complete
that I forget the void beneath.

You lay there still, but still I slip,
you look like someplace I could trip,
we met and then I lost my grip,
look out below- manhole- I flip.

From where I stand I can’t quite seem
to get a glimpse of underneath
the better then, to paint you with-
an easel to support my myth.

You lay there still, but still I slip,
you look like someplace I could trip,
we met and then I lost my grip,
look out below- manhole- I flip.

I’d like to take your picture  and then put it in a frame
I’ll like to show my mother and imagine our last name
I’ll smooth out all your edges like a giant lucky dime.
you’re nice in two dimensions and I’d like to make you mine

Here you are right at my feet
you’re unassuming, solid, sweet.
You fit so tight and so complete
that I forget the void beneath.
You make me nervous
shiny surface hidden purpose
Look out below. Manhole. I flip.

Manhole

It's a long way between can and do.
You’re at the strange age- not young but so new-
staring at the vastness of space from your mattress on the floor,
Praying for that small grace to rise once more.

Work another long day that ain’t working for you.
Bringing home that minimum wage is the least you can do.
Don’t you know that pain doesn’t pay-
check your baggage at the door.
Building up that small strength to smile once more

Hey Margo-o-o, its ok
you’re feeling low-low-low, so lonely.
Baby girl, you know that it happens
just sit tight till it passes.
And don’t forget it's oK to be lonely.

It’s another shit date that you’re gritting through.
Hopes were high, but, no way- this cupid don’t shoot.
Can you jump your heart into beating?
Ain’t it feeling any more?
Holding out that small faith to love once more.

Hey Margo-o-o, it's ok
you’re feeling low-low-low, so lonely.
Baby girl, you know that it happens
just sit tight till it passes.
And don’t forget it's ok to be lonely.

(Courage my friend, you do not walk alone)

Margo

A creation fable of the origin of sound, the connection of humans to earth, and the futility of language

Mmmmmm

Hi Michele.
What time you gonna pick me up tomorrow morning. I’m sorry.

What Time

Hi its eleven forty-five. Sunday. Happy new year to you and all your family. I love you, bye.

[Photo: Picture of coffee grounds used to read my future]

Mmmmmm

michmobi

Recent comments

MezMarion

Related tracks