One man concert
He weaves a desperate tale
Of sunsets
Kisses at twilight
And missing the starting gun of life
As he's lost
Stuck on love
And other fairytales
Always better in a song
With hopes for a little change
To join his jingle
Every time his right foot stomps.
One man concert
There is something better about his sound
Subtle
Like his rags
The sway of his hair
As he looks down
Searching
For the heart of his song
Because that is what captures
Me
Them
Us
And thus we are bound to contribute
As we stare off
Into sunsets long gone
Reminiscing of twilight kisses
And missing the starting gun
Because at that time
What could've been more important
Than that first love?
©2011clarencecbess
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Ms. Jenkin's Blues
Got it deep in her
That 'bama sway
Which only southern girls could learn
As they strolled dusty roads
On their way
Past history's fields
Hiking their skirts
Because ashy feets was one thing
Acceptable
But a dingy hem was not.
Got it deep in her
The way she told a story
Drunk on laughter
Seasoned in way
Like mama's meals
More from experience
Than anything she could've read;
Made you want to come back for more
Stand around the kitchen doorway
A disciple
Waiting for Sunday dinner.
Had it deep in her
The fire and brimstone way of life
To hell with the time
Sermons of her existence
Were forever just getting started.
Got it deep in me
Upon remembering those eyes;
Looked like they'd seen
Just maybe
A little too much
Those crops of faith
Punctuating woods of reality
Where abundantly grew
Lessons
Only time could provide.
Got it deep in me
As it was in her
To take those seeds
Plant them
Nature them
Watch them grow
Hoping winds
Would carry them to places
Just this side of a dream
Where all things possible
Made light of the dark
Beneath their eyes
Beneath those blue songs
Blue times
That become
Of those with no hope of escape.
Hope it deep within them
Who'll go on
Because that is life
Because that was Ms. J.
And what better praise
Than to take a moment
laugh with memories
Tear with melodies
No longer sung
But hanging on the breeze
On the calm which comes
Each time one thinks her name...
©2011clarencecbess
That 'bama sway
Which only southern girls could learn
As they strolled dusty roads
On their way
Past history's fields
Hiking their skirts
Because ashy feets was one thing
Acceptable
But a dingy hem was not.
Got it deep in her
The way she told a story
Drunk on laughter
Seasoned in way
Like mama's meals
More from experience
Than anything she could've read;
Made you want to come back for more
Stand around the kitchen doorway
A disciple
Waiting for Sunday dinner.
Had it deep in her
The fire and brimstone way of life
To hell with the time
Sermons of her existence
Were forever just getting started.
Got it deep in me
Upon remembering those eyes;
Looked like they'd seen
Just maybe
A little too much
Those crops of faith
Punctuating woods of reality
Where abundantly grew
Lessons
Only time could provide.
Got it deep in me
As it was in her
To take those seeds
Plant them
Nature them
Watch them grow
Hoping winds
Would carry them to places
Just this side of a dream
Where all things possible
Made light of the dark
Beneath their eyes
Beneath those blue songs
Blue times
That become
Of those with no hope of escape.
Hope it deep within them
Who'll go on
Because that is life
Because that was Ms. J.
And what better praise
Than to take a moment
laugh with memories
Tear with melodies
No longer sung
But hanging on the breeze
On the calm which comes
Each time one thinks her name...
©2011clarencecbess
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
