Monthly Archives: June 2018

While Fatigued

This is something I scribbled down on night in the spring of 1985, shortly before college spring break.  That year would turn out to be the single worst in my entire life to date.  Just about everything went wrong.  It was already starting to go wrong when I wrote this.  I was failing academically; trouble with a stupid fraternity; problems with my parents; and a dog in faltering health.  For me, the only good thing about 1985 was that it ended.

 

 

Almost midnight as the clock digitals glimmer,

And my arm has ceased to quiver.

Stopped for this moment to scribe this passage.

I want to relay a beleaguered message.

This day has run the gamut of my emotions.

They’ve slipped from private moments of joy,

To contained anger like silk lotion.

I feel a perverse love of this mixed décor.

It’s a delighted passion of my own soulful heart.

A concert of charms and spirits.

I grope in the dark amidst wrongs and rights.

Wondering if I serve purpose on this Earth.

Thinking my impact may be a single laugh.

Tired.

Hungry.

Eyes pleading for justice.

I overreact?

Underestimate?

This is the kill holding my fate.

 

Image: Christine Deschamps

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Lady Rock n’ Roll

Continuing with my poetry streak, here’s a piece I composed in December 1984.  Like “Coal Black” hints at my obsession for women with long black hair, this speaks more loudly of my love for women who play guitar – either professionally or as a hobby.  Part of the inspiration springs from my admiration for one of my favorite rock bands, “Heart,” founded by sisters Ann and Nancy Wilson more than four decades ago.  Together the duo carved their own unique path through the male-dominated world of rock music; shattering the bodice-tight image of female-as-ornament, and proving – along with a handful of similar contemporaries – that women can be both assertive and feminine.

But it also describes how emotions are often stretched in a relationship – a common theme in any genre of music – and the reality that true love, albeit subtle, is eternal.

Oh, my Lady Rock n’ Roll,

I know so many secrets that you hold.

By chance, you remember me?

I’m the man who cut you free.

I loved every ounce of your soul until you stood on your own.

Then you dropped me like a crinkled bone.

Now I’ve returned to set myself back into your mind.

And I can see that small light of love still shines.

Oh, my Lady Rock n’ Roll,

I recall a time when you weren’t so bold.

Wordless memories that were no mere charity.

Now that love has warped into a sense of disparity.

A split between your mind and your voice,

A painful note of distrust and noise.

I cried when I saw your spangled skin.

I felt you’d charred yourself with sordid sin.

Oh, my Lady Rock n’ Roll,

I pray your emotions are not forever cold.

Why you’ve slipped into a neon aura is beyond my thoughts.

I remain silent, my heart bound by locks.

Please look at my face.

I can tell if you have anymore grace.

Music and emotion bring out such joy.

My eyes should tell you I’m no toy.

Oh, my Lady Rock n’ Roll,

I know you can’t be sold.

Oh, my Lady Rock n’ Roll,

My senses have yet to fold.

Oh, my Lady Rock n’ Roll,

I still wish to be part of your soul.

Images: Fotolia

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