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Song for the old man.

Well, I'll eat at seven,
when I've had my fill
on slithers of lyrics,
wise song, smooth stilled

my nerves with rough wine
and heard all the songs,
the old PM, Leonard on a wire,
and the lyrics tight strung

It was you, the who,
where and why, I sang to

Always you,
I sang to

So I approach a half-century,
a respectable score,
if you like cricket,
or find it an intractable bore

It was you, the who,
where and why, I sang to

Always you,
I sang to

And the song is turned up,
Malcolm banging on,
I think I disrupt,
by a confluence of tasks,
try hard, too long

It was you, the who,
where and why, I sang to

Always you,
I sang to

I saw my old man
tow a beat-up car
on the hill, he ran,
they made it so far

I've been towing that hulk
for too long now,
maybe just let go of the sulk
and work out how

to let go of that junk,
dump the shit in the trunk,
the dreaming, scheming lows
acknowledge all bumps
are here to stay,
and let go

It was you, the who,
where and why, I sang to

Always you,
I sang to
Always you.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
A long time since I've been here. Illness, family, a pretty shitty year. You know the story. This is actually conceived as a song, hope you can see it in both ways. Obviously, a bit rusty, and needs work. But it works for me. Happy new year everyone :) Cheers, Chris
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Glad to see you haven't forgotten us. I think I get the gist of this one. I'm thinking that you are showing the troubles that you have been 'towing' around with you and have resolved to shed yourself of them and try to smooth things over and get a fresh start. Your reference to "dumping the shit in the trunk" is where a lot of us carry things that we haven't quite decided what to do with. Things that we think we may need to continue our journey in that old junk. You know, like that old patch kit for inner tubes, [while all our tire are now tubeless], that half a bottle of anti-freeze that has been leaking all over the place and those rusty jumper cables that are all twisted. Yes, every now and then we have to clean out our trunks and get rid of the junk car and get a new one, or at least a new second-hand one. I haven't any suggestions for sprucing this one up, but am interested to see what you do with it. ~ Geez.
.

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Happy new year Geezer :). The trunk was true, as in something that I observed, but wasn't in a position to intervene, but it is "confessional" poetry/song (I've been listening and reading Cohen, so I see less of a difference) but the conceit is to shed much, and keep some. Thanks for your interpretation, and when all the dust has settled from this crazy year past, things will be changing ;). Take care, I will be reading, and back soon for revisions. Cheers, Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

Agreed with Geezer, and also I love the narrative and the descriptions, and I feel like it's something that really hums with the warmth nostalgia and also the bitter reality of the present, but that may just be my random interpretation. ;)

..................................................
https://meanderingbackward.blogspot.com
"The true alchemists do not turn lead into gold; they turn the world into words." -William H. Gass

There is nostalgia there. I was pitching it as a song (and it may be). Nostalgia can be a tricky and treacherous path, and it is present here. I think I will make revisions.
Thanks for your response and insight, very useful, and I look forward to reading you.

Cheers,

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

Yes lugging the old baggage and dumping it somewhere unfortunately it never really leaves at least in the backs of our minds the trunk where we toss all the junk.
I found a rare feeling of beauty in this.
Thanks,
Mark

THE MARK
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