I (over)wrote this gloomy little piece when I was 18 years old and just out of high school. It got published in Speakeasy magazine. Most of it makes me cringe now, but I have always really loved the ending. Here it is, and please be merciful.
__________
The empty concert hall--
The podium conducting, the stage performs
A piece of Beethoven's shattered plaster head
In forgotten time.
Ladies and gentlemen--
If it please thee, I sit hangdog on the world's steps.
In the window sobbing three floors above,
Love stands head in hand as
Scores blow crazed past my rubble feet.
And I lay myself open to you, then.
My madness mirror, tender across time and
Believing caressive until it lay sprawled
Hit-and-run
Six o'clock and real, but so am I...
Though I kneel broken,
The bitter victim of iambic pentameter--
My feeling eyes still journey
My seeing heart still voyages
Until, stumbling on a piece of Beethoven's shattered plaster head,
The air hammer song and banking cosmic goes flying
My God, now they'll never know
the moving
measured
female beauty
Of a street sign in the rain.
______________
Me, I absolutely love the first verse...
ReplyDeleteMercy? As if anyone could find fault with anything you write. You are brilliant. You know that, don't you?
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ReplyDelete~giggles at the use of the word thee... ok, ok, you said be kind.
ReplyDeleteI can still recognise the distinctive shay voice, and yes the ending. Sometimes it's good to go back to early poems, and see where you've come from...
thanks for posting... and showing us more of you x
I love the sense of innocence it portrays. There is something quite becoming about "Love stands head in hand". It inspires me to a story...
ReplyDeleteHappy, beautiful Sunday!
Roll over Beethoven. Now that's a little Pouty humor for you this morning.
ReplyDeleteI love the lines:
"My feeling eyes still journey
My seeing heart still voyages
Until, stumbling on a piece of Beethoven's shattered plaster head,
The air hammer song and banking cosmic goes flying."
I like the beginning, end, and everything in between. Kissy-kissy.
You really are my twin! I used to write depressing poetry in high school...but it wasn't nearly as good as yours :)
ReplyDeletewhat on earth are you apologising for???? this is brilliant!
ReplyDeleteI don't think you can ever write a bad poem!
ReplyDeleteNothing to be embarrassed about .. pure written beauty ...
ReplyDeleteaw, don't cringe, stand tall, like Beethoven would! it's beautiful and i can feel your young heart exploding. i love it.
ReplyDeletePretty damn good if you ask me. A bit more adjectival than your current work, but still full of your trademark imagery and a lot of substance. Plenty of 'mature' stuff isn't this caliber, especially the end, which is potent.
ReplyDeleteWho doesn't, as a young poetry, snarl unabashedly at all the world which is not poetry? It's coming up with inventive enough tropes without having read enough of the source material. It's great to see when the gift is strong and pure and feral from the beginning. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteOh yes, the final image is a definite keeper. I enjoyed the piece very much indeed.
ReplyDeleteo.k. now stop with the i'm not any good routine. you are tres tres fabulous-- celebrate it. who was the photo of, the nymph in the rain w/ the umbrella some days back? xxxj
ReplyDeleteOkay, I knew it would be wicked good. It is impossible for you to write anything that isnt fantastic. I most especially love "the moving measured female beauty of a street sign in the rain". Wowzers! I rest my case:)
ReplyDeletenot GOT A CLUE why you cringed...this was excellent...and another gem unearthed...really enjoyed this celebration and reading some wonderful work that deserves its chance to be revisited...great poem..cheers pete
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