Jump to content

Poetry


sullysue
 Share

Recommended Posts

Some long lyrics belong as poetry, just as much as anything else.

 

 

 

Blue Ruin, by Andrew Marlin

 

 

One morning, after drinking heavy in the night

Every inch of my poor bones

Seemed to ache and moan in wait

‘Cause all my troubles, come tomorrow, will be gone

And then it’s on to Christmas Day

 

If Jesus had been born

Just eleven days before

Would the world have stopped to see

At least those on the street

Headed for Newtown

 

And of all those on their way

Would the miracle have made one lay his guns down

 

“That trigger stole his mind, how am I to blame?”

I bet you never even aimed at one

There’s too many people killing people

To put an end to evil

What can be done?

 

Well for now who’d like to tell me

On that morning when twenty-seven fell

How any lesson in counting

Could ever, ever amount to watching them fall

And why, worst of all,

Come Christmas morning

They’ll still be gone

 

One morning, after drinking heavy in the night

I stopped to take a look

At the crook who stole this holiday

 

Well this Christmas,

My only wish is

We put these guns away

  • Like 2
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Some long lyrics belong as poetry, just as much as anything else.

 

 

 

Blue Ruin, by Andrew Marlin

 

 

One morning, after drinking heavy in the night

Every inch of my poor bones

Seemed to ache and moan in wait

‘Cause all my troubles, come tomorrow, will be gone

And then it’s on to Christmas Day

 

If Jesus had been born

Just eleven days before

Would the world have stopped to see

At least those on the street

Headed for Newtown

 

And of all those on their way

Would the miracle have made one lay his guns down

 

“That trigger stole his mind, how am I to blame?”

I bet you never even aimed at one

There’s too many people killing people

To put an end to evil

What can be done?

 

Well for now who’d like to tell me

On that morning when twenty-seven fell

How any lesson in counting

Could ever, ever amount to watching them fall

And why, worst of all,

Come Christmas morning

They’ll still be gone

 

One morning, after drinking heavy in the night

I stopped to take a look

At the crook who stole this holiday

 

Well this Christmas,

My only wish is

We put these guns away

 

God is a bullet. Have mercy on us, everyone.

 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Old Dust"

 

I see a falling

Soft and sure as rain

In cold attic light, it glows

And slows before my gaze

I find it’s no use

Clawing its descent

To reach out feeling dead air

But see the streaming haze

I’m caught in Twister

Work splayed on the floor

And tears refuse my drying eyes

Old dust burying proud days

I see it falling

Heavy now it rests

Stubborn across my trembling hands

Voided of their hope to raise

 

 

 

 

"Petalpath"

 

“Shall I send back down that path

You whom I call friend?”

 

Alas this wretched trail

Could I but sprout wings

Be rid of snares hidden

By centuries of dead leaves

But she sends me by foot

That I shan’t disappear

Rather I stumble on roseroots

And block up my tears

Edited by Entre_Perpetuo
Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Stop A Whalefall"

 

If I hold out my hands

Will you drag me in?

Will you keep me afloat

Cuz I ain’t learned to swim?

Will you teach me a stroke?

Even if I’m scared

Cuz tonight all I want is

To learn what’s out there.

 

How can you stop a whalefall?

 

I’ve had my heart broken

By barely a word

And I’ve tripped, slipped, and stumbled

On rumors I’ve heard

Yes sinking is peaceful

Just like falling asleep

But the sun, wind, and tides are

Calling me to my feet

 

How can you stop a whalefall?

 

If I could learn only

One more thing in life

No I wouldn’t end any

secrets or strife

I just want somebody

To teach me to swim

So I can go surfing

And feel free again

 

How can you stop...

Edited by Entre_Perpetuo
  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Wheelspin



 

O heavy dream, glint of steel on my head

All it would take is one lapse of strength,

You would be my death

O heavy heart, motor-fire in my chest

Dying reminds, I jump-start my mind

Drive or be driven to rest

Edited by Entre_Perpetuo
Link to comment
Share on other sites

This thread doesn’t get a whole lot of traffic, but I was scanning through it from the start, and found something I had posted that had some typos in it (and, you know, we certainly can’t have that! Lol)...so I thought I would repost, with the corrections made.

 

 

 

 

 

Employing the mantra of

"So near, yet so far",

I promised myself that I would

do us the courtesy

of not remembering

And I hate to say it, but...I've failed

 

As the days became weeks, months, a year

Five years

Ten years, and then fifteen

 

And I know that you may be

somewhere north of remembering

any of this at all

But I have to confess,

the only thing that I remember

is all of it

 

With one eye through a lens colored rose,

the other through the rather undignified lens of hindsight

I am led to recall that

in all of the love and magic that we made,

I could have done so much more

than I did

 

I remember coming and sitting across from you

when you were alone

I remember the first time I opened my car door

for you, to get inside

I remember your smile, your hands,

your tiny little elfin boots

I remember your whole body

completely enveloped by the right half of mine

lying on your bed together

on a snowy afternoon in February

 

What was it about your hair

that it never needed a brush,

but only a few free fingers?

And what was it about your charm

that you didn't need to speak

so much as a single word to me?

 

I also remember that look in your eyes, so long ago

That said, desperately

"Don't do this, not now, don't leave me here"

And I wondered just then,

and so many times since

whether the right choice

could ever be attained

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

This is one of the few music poems I’ve ever written (one of two, I think, and I lost the other one, hahaha...but anyway, I do like this one). I wrote it about 25 years ago.

 

 

Jazz drummers are the most oblivious,

Just the coolest, on the whole planet

They never, EVER look you in the eyes

I swear, sounds this cool never came out of

three white kids in Guess Jeans and Hush Puppies before

 

You and I both know the tone on the sax

is nothing like Coltrane

But if I close my eyes,

it might as well be ‘Trane, Charles Mingus on the bass,

And Dannie Richmond on the skins- the Gretsch kit

reminds me of Charlie Watts,

and how he might like to be here right now,

gettin’ it on with everyone and everything in the room

 

I fear that my pen

isn’t even classy enough to write about this cool shit

 

The man behind the sax is callin’ out- to Jesus,

or to his mother,

or to the girl who just left him,

or maybe just to his instrument

in between toots on the alto reed

 

Earnest as a hymnal

As structured as ceremony

As heartfelt as Chicago blues on a Saturday morning

in the summer of 1958

Tight as Calvin Klein when I was seven,

Watching Brooke Shields on TV

and thinkin’ the same thing I’m thinkin’ right now-

Be still my heart, I am in love

with the way you make me feel

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

A Farewell To Things

 

There is laughter in the darkness if you listen close enough

There is still sunshine hidden behind the stock exchange

There is empathy kept secret in the poker face of power

There is wisdom in the mind of the least considered fool

 

Every day I wake to a sense of disproportion

Stuttering heart at the mountain’s base

The night brings either sleep or sound disillusion

Spinning coin falling slow enough to chase

You’ve got to let it land

 

It’s not the silver lining

Too thin to make out

It’s not the deepest instinct

Or what life's all about

When you get that feeling

Or just get overwhelmed

Step out of the picture

And laugh beside yourself

 

There is lightning only waiting in the purest, whitest cloud

There is fire hazard drawn into the plans of the devout

There is venom served with smiles at the table of plenty

There are woeful greeds and vanities fighting through the saintly

 

Every day I put up with my own humanity

Stuttering speech and falls from grace

Some days break my heart, or burn my sanity

Light and wind flowing never slow enough to chase

You’ve got to let it fly

 

It’s not the silver lining

Too thin to make out

It’s not the deepest instinct

Or what life’s all about

I still get that feeling

I still get overwhelmed

I’ll step out of the picture

And laugh beside myself

 

Some people choose to lash out

What’s the worst that it could do?

Others turn the whip inside

They scar what’s already bruised

I tell you it’s not fight or flight

They can’t make you give up

If you can turn the other cheek

Can you turn that hate to love?

 

It’s not the silver lining

Too thin to make out

It’s not the deepest instinct

Or what life’s all about

When you get that feeling

Or just get overwhelmed

Step out of the picture

And laugh beside yourself

 

I still get that feeling

I still get overwhelmed

Can I step out now?

Can I laugh at myself?

Can’t I laugh at myself?

Can’t we laugh?

 

 

 

me reading the poem:

Edited by Entre_Perpetuo
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Lopsided People

It’s no use hoping you’re symmetric

Place your hand over your face

And feel that every bone's in place

Laugh upon your grace

Too little, too late for perfection

Sharpen the point for each new line

Drag the lead so clean and fine

Weight builds and breaks

Lopsided people look in funhouse mirrors

See a little more there, a little less here

Parting every hair one by one

But how even the odds, they're perfectly odd

Lopsided people can’t play by ear

And if they can, they’re just what they hear

Much ado about judging, no verdict appears

And the jury is out, the fair is in town

Lopsided people

Thin skinned people

Colorful people

Colorblind people

It’s no fun praying you’re concentric

Your conscience is constipated

Gymnastics class was wasted

You’ve natural balance

Long diatribes you will find electric

Tight hook to thesis statement

Poetic paragraphs and pages

In summ, you're entranced

Lopsided people never take one step

At the gas pump they’re a nervous wreck

Paying extra cents for one hundred percent

Cuz it’s the number nine that ate seven

Lopsided people are just so obtuse

No faith in the Trinity for it’s too acute

Shall we send them to Rome with it’s triangle room

The old chapel of the Sapienza?

Lopsided people

Hard hatted people

Funhouse mirror people

Lowly meer people

I was walking to the beat of my favorite drummer

My left foot on one and beat two on the other

But much to my dismay I came to a puddle

I guess we’re all a bit odd, in a lopsided tunnel

Lopsided people

Political people

Lottery people

Maladjusted people

Lopsided people

Incredible people

Professional people

Spiritual people

Lopsided people

Disabled people

Athletic people

Malnourished people

Lopsided people

Doctors of people

Plasticky people

Small sticky people

….

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...