This is My Fight Song

Without a doubt, this is my fight song. It roars at me like a lion, but then gently comforts me like a lamb.

“Fight Song” by Rachel Platten is so powerful. I believe it connects with me very deeply, relates to my dreams of landing my dream job, of going places and always climbing a new mountain. The chorus of the song is so intoxicating and just makes me want to move and groove. It grips my heartstrings, motivates me, fuels my happiness and determination to win. There is no more whimpering. It is time to make a move. It is time to live my life.

“I may only have one match, but I can make an explosion”.

I love that line. It means that even if you have virtually nothing to your name, no money, no fame, or power, you can make a difference. By standing up for what you believe in. That was true for African-Americans during the slavery days and during the Civil War, and revolts against the order. The LGBTQ+ movement would have loved to use that line.

The little things you do in life are what matter in the end. You have the power to move boulders through what you say or do. Fighting for a change begins with a lot of small steps and the littlest of people with their one match can make a big surprise.

I can see why this song received so much attention (even a performance before the Pro Bowl). It’s all about having a second chance at life and never giving up. Following your dreams, your passions, taking hold of one more step on the ladder.

I feel like I want to listen to this song at least 50 or 100 more times. It is insanely good. The message within is brilliant. I think I’ll download this song to my phone and go on a run with it (or walk, because running would make me exhausted quickly).

There’s no telling is Rachel Platten will come up with another song to match this or if she will quickly become a one-hit-wonder, but all I can is she went from a complete unknown to making an explosion with this song.


Take a line from a song that you love or connect with. Turn that line into the title of your post.

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A Song For A Hero

This song is in memory of 35-year-old firefighter Dennis Rodeman, who was involved in a fatal hit and run collision on September 9th in Lansing, Michigan. A 22-year old deranged man named Grant Taylor deliberately ran him over because he was angry at the firefighter for collecting donations and holding up traffic. He threw an apple core at the firefighters who were also participating in the “Fill the Boot” campaign and sped off. After the firefighters got mad at the 22-year old for throwing the apple core, he turned back and obliterated Rodeman with his vehicle.
Taylor was charged with murder and fleeing a crime scene. I was there on Jolly and Cedar just hours before Rodeman was killed, going to the plasma center around the corner where he was standing. I found out about the accident on television about an hour after I was at home in Jackson. Rodeman was collecting donations for the Muscular Dystrophy Association and International Association of Firefighters. He later died at a hospital, leaving behind his wife who was pregnant. This story is still relevant on my local news and elsewhere, more details being picked up, such as the apple core tonight.

Dennis Rodeman 2

Money is being raised for the firefighter’s family with a GoFundMe account. Over $125,000 and counting. You can click on the link and donate money yourself for his family. I’m not personally asking you to donate, but it would be a nice gesture to help some people in need. It would help pay for funeral and burial costs.

There are no cliffhangers for this story. An innocent man, a wonderful brave man who served in the Marines and in Iraq, is dead for no good reason and his funeral is to be held this week. The only good thing is the killer was caught and eventually will be put in prison or at least a mental institution because of his recent psychiatric problems.

I can’t believe I saw the man for the final time before his fateful ending. I wondered what he was doing, standing in the street with a boot. If I was on that street corner a few hours later, I would have witnessed Rodeman’s horrifying accident and this post would look a little different. Maybe not with pictures, but with more vivid first-hand detail.

Rodeman’s family and friends are together and mourning his loss. His death became not just local news but national news as well, the story being listed as a “popular” link on Bing and other search engines. He went out a hero and his story is an inspiration to many.

And all was well with the world. Or maybe it isn’t in this case.


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “No Cliffhangers.”

Write a post about the topic of your choice, in whatever style you want, but make sure to end it with “…and all was well with the world.”

That Song’s Ruined…

It was during my senior year of high school. This was the year that I truly felt like a new person, walking with a roaring confidence and having an energetic but blinded outlook on life. Listening to music through my brand new iPod was a powerful medicine for me, uplifting my spirits everyday, me gliding and strutting down the halls with my head held high and a never before seen determination in my eyes, feeling really positive and I might say a bit cocky.

It was one wild year for me in which I may have overreacted and gotten caught up in the moment, forgetting about the important stuff I needed to take care of such as preparing for college. I was so keen on being the “popular” kid that I may have done some insensible and out of character stuff, such as the time I was late for chemistry and I walked in and yelled out my name as the teacher was giving attendance, quickly sitting down at an empty table to some mutters from the class. I felt so stupid for making myself known like that.

I love dancing, the movement of legs, arms, and feet that is more of a form of self expression than anything else. It brings out raw emotions that I usually never wear on my sleeve, are very hard to detect. Well there was one time during my senior year where this may had turned a bit ridiculous and I had finally thought I had enough of it.

Lonestar’s “Amazed” is one song I will never hear the same again, or will be able to listen to at all for that matter. It’s one song that has deep emotional meaning and imagery to it. It used to be one of my favorite songs until that one night on the cafeteria dance floor. The song started playing as soon as I started dancing with a girl at one of my final high school dances. It was a rather uncomfortable moment and one I have to say I would like to forget. I could clearly tell she, who was named Tessa, was rather uncomfortable and wanted to get away from me. I wasn’t looking at her face but had my head resting on her shoulder. I could see her look of disgust and wanting to get this over as soon as possible. It didn’t help that I was sweaty and maybe salivating on her shoulder (let’s hope not). When the song mercifully ended, she quickly ran away out of the cafeteria dance floor, looking back at me blankly and leaving me standing there looking confused and kind of let down and foolish. Before she took off I quietly said “That was kind of nice”. But then my ignorance quickly slapped me in the face. I asked her across the floor if she would like to dance with me; she quickly said yes. I thought it was going to be fun and not at all creepy and awkward. I was wrong.

Clearly “Amazed” was a wrong choice of song to dance with someone I had barely talked to my whole life and was more in the distant friendzone than anything romantic. I accidentally knocked her off her desk once in fourth grade during a game of silent ball, though I didn’t know I did it until another girl laughed out loud in amusement, everyone else joining in. She was okay and found it rather hilarious herself.

The next day as I was walking to my locker on the right, I saw Tessa near hers on the left talking with a friend. She looked at me with just a peculiar stare and I was too embarrassed to look at her and just promptly proceeded to my locker to get ready for that day. That was the last I saw of her until at an open house party of a Tyler I attended. I saw her and again was still embarrassed to do or say anything except quickly look down and move ahead as I was leaving.

So this song really provokes an embarrassing and quite awkward moment in my life. It’s too painful to listen to now because it’s got an added personal meaning and isn’t so innocent to me anymore. Of course, I might just be overthinking this – I mean, come on, it was just a silly high school dance. The song came on at an inopportune moment. It was the kind of song that was probably more fitting for two who were already in love, not two that were merely acquaintances from elementary school and really had nothing in common.

The last time I heard it was in my mom’s car. I tried to drown it out by covering my ears. I commented on how I hate this song because it’s sickening, my mom tsking in disbelief, when in reality it always brings up that uncomfortable dance moment with Tess. Maybe I’ll get over that feeling eventually. I think I might have started to break the ice on Facebook with this girl by responding to a post she wrote about her dad dying and she seemed to like that. Maybe we could just be friends and not go any further than that in fear of things feeling uncomfortable. Oh, who am I kidding, that was five years ago. She’s likely forgotten the whole thing by now. Unless she thinks the same thing whenever this song comes on the radio and cringes at the thought of that awkward dance. It’s a great love song but I believe it may be just a little too deep for the lightest and most casual of encounters.


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Always Something There to Remind Me.”

V is for Voice

A voice we all have, a choice we all have
A chance to be heard, demand for respect
It’s all in our roots, how we learned to survive
Calling out to one another, in case danger arrived
And songs ring through us
Belting at the top of our lungs
Or softly to ourselves
Or just to loved ones
And for the ones that first hear their voice
It must be an exhilarating feeling
The vibration of those words
Like deep spiritual healing
Giving them the chance
The power to live free
Finally, another dimension
to connect with you and me

April A to Z Challenge

Magical Ore of Words

My mind is at ease, familiar click of the keys as I write down these words, taking me back to that happy place. The perennial pen that produces my thoughts, undeniable taught with wisdom, courage, and understanding. The slow flow of a constant show to unravel the answer of me. Tapping into the magical ore within, drawing out inspiration, pulling through desperation, it’s going to be my innovation.

The words seek to be approved, I bust my way through to be improved, tapping the magical well until the keys start to swell, it’s either heaven or hell, as my words form a shell of my utter existence. Like the glittery firebugs that light up the night, electrical synapses from my brain power the prose that flows down like rain, until I am completely dry. But satisfaction never comes, as the magical ore refills once more, and the magical pen starts in again, pulling me through the gates to a peaceful bed of literary resistance.

Writing 201

Ashes to Ashes

Black smoke rising
Killing magic
Burning down
Slightly tragic
I’ve got just a few minutes
To materialize myself
To retrieve what is good
What should be saved from this hell
The duct taped screen gem that has served me well,
Five seasons of The Simpsons,
The burning of cheap dry wall, smoldering smell
My essential identity contained in the wallet,
Leatherbound security that would be hard to recall it
Dangerous flames filling the hall,
Atoms, elements of wood breaking down,
The inevitable that sees it all fall
The flatscreen TV that came from a loan,
Fighting for my life to save what I own
And I wish I could get it all,
Managing to scoop up an unopened Gatorade
As a hole burns through the wall, destroying what was made
But there just wasn’t enough armroom or time,
And as I make a run for the exit,
I realize what what I’d been taking for granted the entire time
To have had this home,
A place to run to, a place for sanctuary,
And now it is gone,
Well, now it’s just a memory, quite frankly


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: Burning Down the House

Your home is on fire. Grab five items (assume all people and animals are safe). What did you grab?