Some live among garbage
Others rule from a palace
Few manage contentment
Whatever their station
She gathers them all, every one
To her heart, her precious ones
And grieves for each lost one
Each teardrop a fresh ocean
I have to walk into town
First it’s to the dentists
To tell them she won’t
Need that appointment now
Then to the post office
To mail off the form
Removing her from the
Fortunately it’s sunny and dry
It’s two weeks tomorrow
JET PLANE WARBIRDS
Splitting our quiet skies
Oh when will you return home?
Be gone, fey daughters of mad Zeus
Be done with twirling your bloody fingers
Fondling their hard-won garlands demanded
And then – oh but of course – soon discarded
Gladiators meet, mete out death, make meat
Reborn as gliadioli – erect, sword-shaped
Leaves and spikes of flowers – overblown
In a superfluity of colour, so over fulsome
Be gone, be gone, we beseech thee
Leave us in peace, in peace
In blessed peace
I HAVE NOT LOCKED THE DOOR
A prophet without a name
A patriot without a country
Lost in a dying church
Lost in a black prison
Small yard to walk round and round
Dry throats of guitars
(This is a short poem
For those who have someone to return to)
When you really need to be close to someone
You do not dare go away and admit you have failed
That is why people sometimes spend the night together
And stay together forever
Until even the touch of another’s hand is empty
And you share things individually
Take a last grand look down the fire escape
In case you ever need to run away fast
So … I decided, on reflection, to give a little background to this piece. Picture someone who is trapped in a relationship and is trying to give some advice to a good friend who is about to enter one. This is not written from a personal here-and-now perspective, but is not pure fantasy either. I simply wanted to capture some of the intimate, unspoken feelings from that point and moment in time. View it as a mental movie to enjoy (or otherwise, as desired); expand it to 90 minutes; make a movie; do it well enough and you could be talking Oscars. Selah.
MADLY IN LOVE
Her life redrawn as a comic strip … sans comedy.
No longer that dynamic duo. Batteries flat.
Bats in the belfry, robbin’ bewildered senses blind.
And … adrift might best describe it. Hooked, blind and snookered.
…..(He is the one?)
Even lying beside her, not truly here, he lies
oceans away, behind cold fronts, lines of icy bars,
biting winds, squalls of temper, hurricanes of contempt.
Comforts herself with poetry and sweet memories
…..(He is the one!)
that turn to nightmares where he’s drowning, calling her name.
Then she is there, reviving him (mouth to mouth, of course).
Waking to find him gone she recaulks her leaky fancies,
sets her sails for yet another day tacking upwind.
…..(He is the one!)
Eschewing havens, but never her hope, she soldiers on,
soiled sails reduced to tatters, she rows from pole to pole,
trawls the seven seas. Her treasure? Nowhere to be seen.
He has unfurled his true colours: the skull and crossbones.
…..(He is the gone.)
Audrey Dawn – The Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister suggested I address myself to meeting this challenge. Two difficulties arise: I. as long time readers will know, I have already posted a number of my favourites so they aren’t eligible; 2. I am by necessity limited to tracks which are freely available on line. In retaliation I decided not to further restrain myself to sticking solely to tracks with lyrics.
3. Tim Buckley – I Must Have Been Blind.
The lyrics can be found at http://www.metrolyrics.com/i-must-have-been-blind-lyrics-tim-buckley.html. I have always heard something a little different from “To live in her life and never trustin'” as written here. What do you think?