I sat and listened to music as the day bled away
a can of beer at my side
and closing my eyes
it was no surprise
I felt joy with those songs as I cried
For my music will do that and make no mistake
it’s something that I often do
Drift away for a while
with contentment and smile
a pastime I’ll often pursue
The surf beat the shingle
loud as a drum
with rising crescendo
for rhythm and thrum
and the wind and the sea
gave their voice to the choir
for a symphony there
to absorb and admire
A pile of poems, a scattering of short stories, a minor mess of manuscripts, all in a state of perpetual preparation. I wait to see what will happen today.
These things, bits of a lonely soul, Hopeful of attention float into Jackson Square, New Orleans, on a random Saturday morning. Jock and Michelle play a mix of the classics in the next patch of shade.
Lovely, dark Michelle on the violin, Jock, recently of Columbus, sits in on the keyboard. Buffalo, the veteran, hair strapped by a black cloth band, plucks a soulful strain from Mozart on a battered guitar. Its case is open on the dirty concrete, a few coins and bills coaxed from a family from Iowa, will buy one or two meals, a share of a dump on Decatur Street, when he’s not enjoying the wonders between a girlfriend’s thighs in a ratty old apartment in the Tremé.
Some days are for music
just sitting inside
and listening well for a while
as with much affection
here in my collection
I’ve plenty to bring me a smile
Hi All, it has been a really long time since I posted poems here. Recently I have been working on making music videos with Covid as the theme blended with my guitar compositions (to whatever extent I know to play). I am posting them in my wordpress page – https://quatrainpoems.wordpress.com/
It is not poetry in written form but then is there any thing that does not have poetry underneath? These music videos are a series as part of 30 days challenge I took on myself.
I have a small corner
with a chair and a cushion
Comfortable, it is a place to hide
albeit in plain sight
It is here that I escape into music
to while away hours lost to rhythm
safe in the knowledge
that this is my place
My sacrosanct
My place to hide
And dream
And breathe
I’ve spent the whole day in the garden
but I’ve not moved very far
as lockdown means the space I’ve got
is not spectacular
I can walk from the front room
to the garden out the back
thirty metres give or take
so not much of a track
The stairs afford an up and down
but some care there must be had
as they’re quite narrow so a trip
down them would be quite bad
I’m thinking of a song I heard
one that brought a grin
for that is what I need right now
with the state I’m in
I’m trying hard, don’t get me wrong
and I know I’m not alone
as there are many others out there
who like me must stay at home
But it’s hard remaining positive
so I need a helping hand
provided by a favourite song
sung by a favourite band
Kallax from Ikea
gave my music a new home
quite the best arrangement
for my records I have known
as now around eye level
I can see their spines anew
and find what I am looking for
now they’re on full view
Excitement builds, anticipation
for this spectacle I’ll see
with Mr Gwilliam, my friend
who will be there with me
We’ve waited now for ages
but the time is here at last
as off to Wembley we both go
for jollies and a blast
Underworld (‘Born Slippy’)
‘Tiny Holes’ and drumming loud
along with several thousand others
we will be there in the crowd
There’s a place in my house where I sit
and, if I chose to lose myself I can
Be it with reading or writing
or music or game
Sometimes Obi joins me
as it is for him safe haven
when there is something loud downstairs
My little brown comfort blanket
snuggled up and sleeping
in my chair beside me
I went all the way to Liverpool
and sat in Derby Square
Victoria looked down on me
as I was sitting there
On my iPod rather fittingly
the Beatles played a song
about a girl called Eleanor
to which I hummed along
Appropriate to hear that
near to where the song was penned
fifty something years ago
familiar like a friend
Prevailing sou’ westerly blows
across this grey-green sea
but the sunshine warm, encourages
so I’m content to be
Staying here throughout the day
to watch the sea out there
as white-capped waves comes into shore
with constant rhythm shared
Each month with new music
I’ll chop and I’ll change
and the playlists I use
I will oft re-arrange
So I’m grateful for i-pods
with music in mind
as with buds in my ears
I can always unwind
On days when it’s raining
my music will play
From the time I awaken
’til the end of the day
It’s an escape I enjoy
and will often return
topping up with the downloads
and the CDs I burn
It’s a remedy to cure
‘most any malaise
So sometimes all of us
need our music days
Sunday in the garden
with jazz and sun and beer
And family, conversation
pavlova and good cheer
Laughter on the Springtime air
from here this afternoon
We’ve been out since breakfast
and evening’s coming soon
But Chris Barber and his clarinet
still has a voice to hear
so we’ll all stay a little while
and have another beer
As Otis and Steve Cropper
wrote so eloquently they
Of sea when they were sitting
on the dock of that fine bay
So whimsically I
here in Sussex by the sea
Hum that tune quite often
when I’m sitting peacefully