Sitting here without a clue
my mind is on the blink
And I'm not quite sure of what to do
my thoughts refuse to think
But give me several lifetimes
and a quart of Johnny Black
And I might compose a line or two
to let you know I'm back
Or maybe I should hang it up
and play guitar instead
I'm pretty good at strumming
when I've had my Johnny Red
At least old Johnny says I am
and I won't disagree
Old Johnny and his brother
have been pretty good to me
So I reach for my old Fender
and I plug it in the amp
Then bring those six strings
into tune and flip off all the lamps
And sitting in the darkness
I recall my favorite tune
A little song I've always loved
from 'Dark Side of the Moon'
And 'Hotel California'
is a special tune for me
Even though the Eagles
went and ripped off Jethro T
I pluck that B flat minor
thinking how it all began
When I'm through I think of you
and start to play again
But the guitar starts to crackle
and the strings begin to rust
Like everything I ever knew
it crumbles into dust
I look outside my window
and I see you in the rain
A trick of nasty weather
manufactured by the pain
But the rain's begun to vanish
and I see you pretty clear
I get up from the sofa
and I wipe away a tear
And all at once you're standing there
beside me in the room
And I see my lifeless body
lying naked in the gloom
You take my hand within your own
and sadness disappears
Without a word I realize
there's nothing left to fear
And in the east a glimmering
declares the rising sun
The nightmare's finally over
and the dream has just begun.
-
Author:
Coyote (
Offline) - Published: August 12th, 2021 12:58
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: HannahElisabeth, Lorna, L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments6
very impressed Coyote;
A well constructed story throughout. One night of heartache.
The first two stanzas made me think of my favorite cover of Between the Bars by Elliot Smith, covered by the Civil Wars...
I'm glad to see the ending conveys new beginnings. This was bitter sweet and lovely, yet again. My favorite kind of poetry.
The sad tale gripped me tight from the first line my friend. A brilliant ending too.
Wow - there must be music that goes with this.........
'But the guitar starts to crackle
and the strings begin to rust
Like everything I ever knew
it crumbles into dust
I look outside my window
and I see you in the rain
A trick of nasty weather
manufactured by the pain'..
an artisan, simplifies everything
showcasing prowess
with that ease of veracity, inking..
(so happy for you dear poet
what a gem, you've penned
thank you for sharing)
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