Swing Angel, on 78 rpm, that old tune
reached out and touched my soul.
Two years later I was rocking
to Hound Dog by Elvis on the radio,
coloring rainbow colored pictures in crayon
thinking I was too young to be so old.
By ’65 the tunes had changed
to songs of desperation,
war and destruction everywhere,
living my life in a divided nation,
conflicted by the conflict
that defied all explanation.
Caught in a time-warp of generations
theirs, yours and mine
‘til the words came
in staggered, jagged line
emotions cut in paper
and syncopated rhyme.
Naiveté, a good dose of ignorance is bliss,
mixed with booze no doubt,
combined in youth
to bring the demons out,
daylight painted black,
no more bright colors, now.
Coming of age with tragedy
served up in black and white
on bus rides to graves;
the caissons rolling out of sight,
while children fought a war
they didn’t want to fight.
Still,
there were the words
scribbled in steno book,
on napkins, any paper scraps,
describing feelings or a look,
the ocean roaring,
a peaceful, babbling brook,
dreams of ever-after leading to
new heartaches up ahead,
realities stark truths,
true love now cold and dead.
More fodder for the paper,
it demanded to be fed.
Extended lessons in living,
advancing now with trepidation,
rhythm of the blues comes easier
with every hesitation,
with every memory lost
acceptance replaces expectation.
Still,
there are the words
that always seem to flow,
from what spring to what well,
I’ve yet to learn or know
but sometimes they are
as young as I am old.
Swing Angel, Swing!
Author notes
Prompt: What makes you a poet?
Name required Toomysterious MicheleWass
A contest entry
- Poets Pens by melodytcromer.
900 points, ended September 23, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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beautiful and so to the point
Although I'm a decade younger than you , I relate to this poem a lot. I was somewhat precocious for a twelve year old and so was very aware of that war and the long ignored injustices at home that were ripping us apart.
"rhythm of the blues comes easier
with every hesitation,
with every memory lost
acceptance replaces expectation."
These lines stood out to me the most.As I've grown older the rhythm of the blues has come easier and and I've had no choice but to let acceptance replace expectation. Since I still wear my hair long and say"man" a lot, I've had more than
one wit comment that,"Hey Hal, the ''60's aint never gonna roll around again." To which,since the last election ,I have been pleased to reply." Hey, we have an unpopular war 5000 miles away and a new young president who has inspired hope all around the world, Looks like the ,60's did roll around again. Let's try not to fuck it up again this time."
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Great
This is an excellent poem, we have so many different times to write about
and we seem to be doubling back on ourself with the war never ending maybe one day they will just stop.
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Excellent Poem
This was a winner and so deserved a shiney! Congrads on your win! Mel.
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Thanks for the Honorable Mention in your contest, it was much appreciated.
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Ah, very nicely written, I remember most of the times you speak of, I'm a tad younger so I'm excused.
I never did write poetry though, never read it either. It took love at a very late age to awaken my muse, and that same love to vanish into thin air at her bidding to keep me at it. God works in mysterious ways and now my love is of poetry and writing, a poor substitute but it suffices for me today. Tomorrow might be different we will just have to wait and see... Scott
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Dosent life go hand in hand with music...I cantimagine one without the other. Music to me is like a calender of life...where were you when??? etc etc...loved it..Dan
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WOW! I am to say the least in shock and awe at this point I could go on and on about this poem but I have to run just to let you know I have viewed it and now moved on! mel.
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I love the swing and play you penned.
of years you've touched and remembered
well done I so enjoyed this very much
with much love and blessings
Rend
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