Something about Steve's passing has triggered something in me that likes to write poetry. I can't quite explain that, but I feel as though some emotional constipation has been released somehow....but I don't publish poetry on Facebook and Satya asked me to post this one here for people to read. 



let us murder our memories together
assassinate the histories behind us
raze the ground on which the present stands
and make mock of future's aspirations

we're not here at passions beck and call
no longer wending our weary ways
from one affair to another always certain
the next one was the last one it never is

cut the ties that bind
burn the cover of darkness
proclaim that we are not
what we never were

the sands are running out
the final quaffs are always the dregs
the wind no longer fills our sails
the compass we trusted is busted

but be of good cheer old friend
we are still together here
unbidden relics of ancient hierarchs
still whispering secrets to each other

and i'll still sing my old sweet songs
out of tune, off beat, but still sweet
when hearts listen to what hearts sing
the purest melodies echo within us

Views: 82

Comment by Foolish Monkey on July 14, 2017 at 12:54pm

I feel some poetry coming on myself but I can't.  I'm painting. and that's enough crazy for one human being.

I love the last line - I'll still sing my old sweet songs out of tune...

that about sums it up.  we keep on keeping on. 

Comment by Alan Milner on July 14, 2017 at 1:22pm

Thank you, old friend. Have you noticed how Steve's passing has brought people out of the woodwork, myself included?

Comment by Sandra Stephens on July 14, 2017 at 2:38pm

'when hearts listen to what hearts sing'

lovely

..I think he'd like it, this inspiration to write welling up with the sadness...

Comment by Foolish Monkey on July 14, 2017 at 5:02pm

Its good to see you again merlin.  Jeeze I think he wouldve loved all the fuss! Its kind of bittersweet, all this love. But its real. 

Comment by Phyllis on July 15, 2017 at 4:35am

It's good to see you here posting. Putting your poems here makes them easier to find, too. Facebook's drain sucks stuff away.

Comment by Alan Milner on July 15, 2017 at 6:26am

I have a lot to say about Facebook, little of it good. I have been working on a book about what I call the information conundrum that we are all stuck in now.  For some reason, people have not been able to focus on the fascistic effects of corporatized mass communications from which the filters of editorial judgment have been removed.  

Comment by JMac1949 Today on July 15, 2017 at 6:26am

Of all the songs about the fragile passing of humankind, I find this the best:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMTKb-pgxGI

It was the last song that Zevon recorded as he was dying.

Comment by koshersalaami on July 15, 2017 at 6:36am

Getting people out of the woodwork was mainly due to the simple act of informing them. All these inactive people still have accounts, and when they get PM's those PM's still show up in their emails. When Tr ig died, I PM'd most of my contacts, many of whom knew Trig. I assume I wasn't alone. 

Comment by Alan Milner on July 15, 2017 at 6:46am

Does anyone else recognize the strong Dylan influence in both the lyrics and the delivery? The question is who influenced whom.  Certainly, Dylan's style changed dramatically when he started hanging out with Zevon. 

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