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Make a List

by Tanya Davis

Keep it on my Fridge I could stretch more, complain less be more dependable and stress less I could confess my love to all the ones I've always wanted to tell them what I'm thinking if they ever ask, be honest to myself let my hard feelings pass if the people that I love don't pass my feelings back I could become that person who always looks serene the traffic doesn't bother me and neither do the bees I could do more favours help more old ladies cross the street savour my chocolate and behave more neighborly - I could do lots of things engage strangers in conversations make more offerings donate portions of my wages to poor places that are worse off than me I could do all of this and then some write a list keep it on my fridge to keep my attention But what are my intentions with this is it about ethics or having my name mentioned a frame of reference to guide my efforts or a game that I am in - and if I became that magnanimous person, maybe I would win? Or maybe it's just a means to ease my conscience make a list and the cross things off of it so that in this messed-up world I could feel content Well, I'd like to think that peace of mind is a selfless goal but I guess it depends on how you get there which way you go and I would like to get there spend some peaceful time before I get too old and I might be walking in the right direction but often it's hard to know Am I being too hard on myself or not hard enough at all? Do I have enough goals the right mix of big and small realistic hopes or idealistic flaws? I don't know all this it's why I question it I guess make commitments to improve lists of goals I should pursue and then self-reflect to hold myself in check and do the best that I could do
Art 03:32
art I wondered what would be the worth of my words in the world if i write them and then recite them are they worth being heard just because i like them does that mean i should mic them and see what might unfurl i think of the significance of my opinions here is it significant to be giving them does anybody care just because i'm into this does that mean i should live like it and really do i dare art, art i want you art you make it pretty hard not too and my heart is trying hard here to follow you but i can't always tell if i ought to so i pondered the point of my art in this life if i make it will someone take it and think it's genuine will they be glad that i did 'cause they got something good out of it will they leave me and be any more inspired i question the outcome of the outpouring of myself if i tell everyone my stories will this keep me healthy and well will it give me purpose, to this world some sort of service is it worth it, how can i tell art, art...
The Drums 01:20
The way you wear your clothes and how you eat your food i like the way you think i love you and how you play the drums on top of every surface and the rhtym that comes through your hands and when you tie your boots up and when you fold your t-shirts i just like the way you move and i like your freckles and i like your muscles and i like your sentences, too you stride over to me and i'm watching you walk thinking it is the best sight i ever saw 'cause when you come close to me my heart is always opening and every time I am so enthralled the accent in your voice and all the words you use i like the way you talk i love you and how you hold your arms out when you're ready for a hug and the way you bring me close to your chest and when you study hard and when you daydream harder i just like the things you do and i like your features and i like your fingers and i like your ideas, too
Poetry 01:32
Poetry I thought about two things today I thought about poetry and I thought about you and extensions of these two things like, poetry about you poems that you'd fit into poetics that we enacted last night with such passion and where that might in fact lead to now that last night is through and i sit here alone this afternoon and i don't know where you sit or with whom i thought of poetry i might compose and where this might go between us now and how slow i thought about not thinking about you but that didn't seem to go like i wanted it to so, i wrote a new poem and you were my subjet i wrote a true ode and you were the subject i wrote and i wrote i thought about you and i thought about poems i thought about these two subjects
as i lay sleeping i'm sleeping by myself right now have nobody else to welcome me into bed or kick me out on whom to lay my head or wrap my arms around and this gets lonely if only i had someone to hold me i woudl give myself to them wholly and they could console me if i needed that and in their embrace enfold me but, as it is i go to bed alone, wake up lonely and in between this my breath does not mix with that of any other soul my hands clutch the pillow and my toes are cold wind blowing out windows and this is how my night goes and i might recall a lover i once had with me underneath the covers and how she felt and how we held each other but i won't reminisce too long else i bring nostalgia on and then i would be too far gone for plesant dreams just lie there sad and empty while i am trying to be glad and not resent things like this place in my head this space in my bed that is ready for somebody to take residence in ~~~ and i am hesitant to share my head again my heart and all its sentiments ~~~ but i would love to share my bed again the air that i am breathing as i lay sleeping
This Sadness 01:47
This sadness Can i make this a sweet sadness? The kind that gets me writing amidst it and my agony convinces my pen to keep printing and i am in it but not completely in misery can i make this sadness productive, so i am glad for some of it and some good could come of it, am i that lucky or will it just keep me down? I looked up sad in my thesaurus and guess how many synonyms i found.. i could be crestfallen, dejected, despondent, i could be woebegone or desperate or broken-hearted.. i think perhaps i am a coalescence and it's best if i just take this depression and get started i could take this discontentment and make it work harder, it could be some sort of working martyr for my soul- searching cause. Aren't artists supposed to have emotional hardship, does this not serve to spur us on? i'd like to think so, put down my handkerchief for a pen with good ink flow and then put down a new poem and then something insightful and pull myself out of the doldrums where i dwell and take this sorrow and make it worth my while.
Something 05:11
Potatoes 04:08
Potatoes On Prince Edward Island the dirt is as red as they say and the hills are rolling and so are the waves and there are patchwork fields all over the place and miles and miles of sand on which to lay tourists leave this in the fall, come back to it in May so what takes place on a tiny province in the snow and what do the locals do when the tourists go we dig those fields you admired as by them you drove our tiny island with its red dirt roads and all that iron helps our potatoes to grow and then the cold comes in and the harvest is over and we seal our windows up, stack wood for our fires and we take off our screen doors and our summer tires and we settle in for the winter, get nice and tired and hibernate while the snow blankets our island and when it storms hard enough we all stay in our houses and we get some days off work and some power outages and we have to slow down, candles and couches until the snow stops falling, we all dig ourselves out of it we make it through tough winters here, we are proud of this you have to stay in a place through all the seasons to appreciate everything that it is and spring is a long time coming in the gulf of the Saint Lawrence and the trees are a long time budding and when they do it is so glorious and the birds they keep us patient while we're waiting, singing us nice choruses and soon enough we're all gathered up talking of how warm it is we love our island, that's for sure it is


my first record. a few weeks and little bit of money plus fear and doubt and love and poetry.


released May 19, 2006

Recorded and mixed by Don MacKay at Spaces Between Sound Studio in Halifax, NS

Mastered by J. LaPointe at Archive Mastering

Tanya - guitar, ukelele, bass, words
Don MacKay - mandolin, cello, electric guitar
Don Brownrigg - keyboard
Rose Cousins - backing vocals
Aaron Sinclair - drums, hands and feet


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Tanya Davis Mount Stewart, Prince Edward Island

Tanya Davis is a writer and artist living on Epekwitk / Prince Edward Island. She writes poems, songs, monologues, speeches, and other things.

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