song lyrics

ETERNAL CIRCLE

(scroll down for a YouTube video)

I play the songs of
Too many dead people
Keeping them alive
As their guitars and faces
Fill my eyes
Words and music
Soothing my soul
Thanks, all, for the
Gift that gives eternally
This month’s practice is Let It Be*
Over and over
Doesn’t sound like
The naked version 2003
Paul redid by stripping the
Background strings, drums, keys and voices
My version is ugly-nude
As ugly as this ol’ lady
Stripped to her black underwear
Strumming the chords
Singing the words
But there is beauty in ugliness
Timeless music
Echoing along the continuum
Surely it reaches back into 1970
And soon-to-be-dead John
And unknowingly-blessed-with-a-long-life Paul
Hear a tune
On their linear line
And pick up guitars
Sit at pianos
Singing so fine
A new song
Somehow, they think,
Popped into their already-crowded heads
But time is truly a circle
And they hear a reverberation
Of some crazy ol’ lady
Playing in 2018
Their song
Because life goes on
A circle of time
Of legacy
Of the future
Telling the past what to create
Even though it was composed in
A linear past
That really never existed
Except in our sorry minds
That cannot grasp
Cannot unclasp
The idea of time not being part of
A straight line…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Ibanez Acoustic Tenor Guitar echoing down the decades

*Written by Paul McCartney, attributed to Lennon-McCartney Partnership

YouTube Video, 1970 original Let It Be https://youtu.be/2xDzVZcqtYI

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IT IS SO

broken_heart_by_crushtycrab

Hiking around eternity’s habitat

And doing other stuff like that

Met a man I really liked

Every morning I felt psyched

He says, “I’ll be on the bayou with you, bebe”

I shrug and say, “Yeah, maybe”

Hands me an iridescent white glass flower

Trumpet shape blasting out musical power

“This is my promise, I’ll return for you”

I shrug and say, “Hope you do”

He made Odysseus look good

The Greek returned like he said he would

But bayou man seemed to forget

And I just choked down my regret

Blew on the tiny flower each day

But no real music did it play

Lipstick ring left an ugly imprint

Like a bloody gash from its daily tint

Just a symbol of another broken promise

So hard to find anyone who’s honest

Seven years crunching around on mirror shards

Dreading the threatening wind in this house of cards

Weaving and ripping out the stitches

Like Penelope yet without the riches

No suitors, no promises, broken or kept

Trying hard just to accept

Linda Ronstadt singing that song

I answer her saying, “Never” and I’m not wrong

Stomping around swampy grass

I bury the trumpet made of white glass

Over my left shoulder I spit three times

Then chant a few of my Romani rhymes

Never again will I fall in love

Nodding when I see a sign: one lone dove

Never again

Amen…amen…

© 2015 ViataMaja, Poezija

(Image: Broken Heart by crustycrab)