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A Psychedelic Lyrical Cruise in Time

Musing on a Saturday…a Saturday morn

Caught out of time, Listening sublime

Words that caused my heart to be torn

Crushed by ‘Time in a Bottle’ so just ‘Carry on My Wayward Son’

Knowing in the end that we are but ‘Dust in the Wind’

Like a ‘Free Bird’ you know it’s absurd

That ‘Every Breath You Take’

Sweeps around a ‘Horse with no Name’, Standing in the ‘November Rain’

Leading me to the ‘Stairway to Heaven’, Our very own ‘Bridge over Troubled Water’

Asking me ‘Have you ever seen the Rain’?

So ‘Dream On’ until we see that ‘Morning has Broken’

I can only ‘Wish you were Here’, and hope we remain, to keep ‘Living on a Prayer’

Knowing that ‘Nothing Else Matters’

As the storm clouds gather and we take knowledge

That ‘Every Rose has its Thorn’

But in the end, we will be ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’

Like once upon a time when ‘Vincent’ sang about a “Starry, Starry Night”

As we ‘Dream On’ flying through

A Psychedelic Lyrical Cruise in Time

A time when nothing else much mattered

except our youth and the songs we sang

In our cars that carried our friends along

it seemed back then that we were strong

But as time moved on we soon realized

that memories are just memories and

Everything dissolves like dust in the wind

 

 

Cited works:

 ‘Time in a Bottle’ by Jim Croce

‘Carry on My Wayward Son’ by Kansas

‘Dust in the Wind’ by Kansas

‘Free Bird’ by Lynard Skynard

‘Every Breath You Take’ by The Police

‘Horse with no Name’ by America

‘November Rain’ by Guns and Roses

‘Stairway to Heaven’ by Led Zeppelin

‘Bridge over Troubled Water’ by Simon & Garfunkel

‘Have you ever seen the Rain’ by CCR

‘Morning has Broken’ by Cat Stevens

‘Wish you were Here’ by Pink Floyd

‘Living on a Prayer’ by Bon Jovi

‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica

‘Every Rose has its Thorn’ by Poison

‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ by Guns and Roses

‘Vincent’ by Don McLean

‘Dream On’ by Aerosmith

I’m Tired

A peaceful Boston HarborI’m tired

of hearing screams and cries

seeing people distraught

and running into fear

from fields of war like

Georgetown…New Town…

Kent State…Columbine…

Virginia Tech…and Boston

I’m tired

of seeing

teddy bears and bouquets

candlelight vigils

for those we’ve lost

tragedy striking

at such high cost

I’m tired

of seeing America

ripped into shreds

by people who dread

to keep the peace

our Second Amendment

rights being shot to hell

our minute-men

didn’t hesitate to

shoot to kill

the Revolutionary war

set us free

what indeed are we waiting for

I’m tired

Life Force

I touched it timidly

afraid almost

as if it would reach out

and consume my fingers.

A strange feeling emanated

from the mask it seemed.

A stark contrast to the mask

fashioned from death’s repose.

American dream…

Could indeed its life force

reach forward from the distant past?

The Mask of Life forged

from living flesh,

its spirit still felt fresh.

I touched the mask of death

and true enough its spirit

felt long gone

now just only cold brass.

So touching again his face from life

to feel once again

that vibrancy of force

left behind as though

unfinished work remained incomplete.

as if its owner’s feet

could still be heard

echoing on down

the halls of history.

**Poem created after visiting the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum in Springfield, Illinois in 2010, and touching the brass masks that had been taken, one from life and the other after his assassination.**