Music isn't the same anymore.
The purity and grit are gone.
It's mechanical and cold.
I remember the days of
records and record players.
The crack and pop, the
sizzling booming bass that
rumbled in my soul.
I think of a song, let's say
something by Zeppelin.
I close my eyes and smell
the weed, see the
blacklight poster on
the brick basement walls.
I lift up the needle and
ramble on.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 3rd, 2025 18:00
- Comment from author about the poem: My books are, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse, and Sleep Always Calls. They are available on Amazon. www.thomaswcase.com is my website.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 38
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Damaso
Offline)
Comments6
Well said Thomas a fun fead
Thank you.
Most welcome Thomas
The days when music sounded authentic and real, and you can't go wrong with Zeppelin, enjoyed the read
Thank you.
You are very welcome
I could not agree more, I grew up in the backstreets of London in the 70/80/90's when music was really made. 🌹
Exactly. Thank you, sweet Teddy.
Well done brought me back to the sanctuary of my room when I was a kid.
Thank you, my friend.
Amen. Music has so often empowered me, revived me. Too much of what passes for music now embarrasses me. "Oldies" are ignored or dismissed, we all lose. Nice work.
Thank you, Dan.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.