A spinning top
A toy piano
A ticking clock
The clock is on a mantelpiece
The top lies by his side,
The piano beneath his tiny hands.
It is a long way till four
He thinks buried by the sands of time,
The next one was important, then.
The loud voices were painful
He already knew everything.
Another note on the piano.
The smell of second floor
And tenement.
He didn’t like it anyway.
Another note on the piano
The clock. The clock. The clock.
Riding the bus, the old grey bus,
And it was hot.
And then
Another man to stay away from,
Way far deep in the corner of his room,
Though the piano was gone,
There were songs
That he could hum as he didn’t know the words,
Just yet.
Author notes
Written August 21st, 2003
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I have this bookmarked. Its sad. It feels like a child's fear - inside a child's head when things are unsettled. And yet the songs at the end - the music somehow seems a saving grace.
I'm going through bookmarks.
Lisa -
Recollecting makes us who we are. Be it happy sad or indifferent, it all has its place. I like the time passage, the rhythmic nature, the childish symbols of the top and the piano lesson..but I must admit I am most interested in the reference to "another man to stay away from"
what is behind this memory...and the whys of it...
makes the mind shudder a bit with speculation
Sarah aka rhiannon -
SHADOWS OF SUN'S SONG
why would we hide
within the open
if not to be loved
by sweet secrets?
I will follow the chiming crumbs
left for me by Time
within a cul-de-sac of music
within sorrow's song
do not search for me
I am just a voiceless bird of Eden
lost within hurt's lonely africa
but not for long
our duet awaits me
a shadow of Sun's psalms
strung to the hidden violin
within your palms
myra
24.08.2003
Edited on Aug 24, 7:54 because ''. -
Funny the things...usually the smallest details...that stick with us. The way something smells, sounds, a look or simply our perception of any of those things. They can transport one instantly to another time and place. They can fill us with terror or delight, and it is almost as powerful as living it again. I love the surreal way this feels. Looking back is always a bit distorted, but not in an unclear way. Amazing write, this.
TM -
I am so inchanted by this I really don't know what to say but this is the work of a wonderful imagination. Abstract, colorful and so very different. I loved it.
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I had a clock...it hung on the wall, a noisy spiteful off pitch clang.
I had a brother, my own that sat beside me.
I had an upright piano, that we took lessons on...
My remembrance: we were supposed to be playing a duet... I didn't like the feel of his little pinky touching mine...I squirmed, I complained..someone hit me in the face...I don't recall who...my nose bled all over the keys...and the clock clanged...
we still have that fucking clock too. -
I hope the top is making some little one giggle in delight.... Val
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Hmmm quite a melancholic piece.. wistful in thought and memory.. I liked it
:)
Well penned Lute..
~GILL~xx -
good
whoa. cool
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