It's just about eighteen minutes
From home to work
Time for about three songs
And a sugarless iced latte
Occasionally, I'll hear Morrison
And his intriguing monotone
Or Maynard with his wicked whispers
Their cadence in the morning darkness
It's always been an escape for me
An alternative destination
Someplace contrary to where I'm headed
And the burdens beyond the doors
I guess that's what it's all about, though
The unrealistic and the real
The fantasy and the monotonous
Sting's synchronicities said it all
There was a time in a distant chaos
A very real chaos, I have to say
That Shostakovich led the way
I could feel his angst and anger
He created fifteen epic journeys
About survival and resistance
Vaste notes of madness and sorrow
That could only be appreciated alone
It's the same old tune though, isn't it
I can hear Mozart's Requiem
Beethoven's Ninth
Bruckner
Somehow, the sounds are more real
As I think about it all
Getting lost in their thoughtfulness
Makes the trip to work ... possible
- Author: Eugene S. (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: August 1st, 2021 09:33
- Comment from author about the poem: Today, there is something melancholy in the air ...
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 55
- Users favorite of this poem: aDarkerMind, L. B. Mek
Comments2
top marks for this one Eugene S...
very impressed.
Thank you for reading.
'Their cadence in the morning darkness
It's always been an escape for me
An alternative destination
Someplace contrary to where I'm headed'..
exemptional pacing, adding a real depth of poignancy
and relatability of melodic melancholy
although, without it being too sombre;
a measured write of nuanced brevity,
your lines take us on a musical whirlwind journey
of yearned-for: remembrance
to a time, we wouldn't necessarily want to revisit
under normal circumstances.
Brilliantly executed, a great write! dear poet
Wow. I'm honored to have such a review. Grateful for your time and scrutiny.
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