I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

27 November 2016

Crowded House Live on the Opera House Steps

In my living room
I who think I have no beat
tap my feet, my hands drum.
I who think I am tuneless hum along.

I who think I have no beat
sway in time, nod my head, see on TV
the live audience nodding in unison.

Tap my feet, my hands drum,
I'm right out of body-consciousness now,
I'm more in my body than I've ever been.

I who think I am tuneless hum along.
Lights throb, smoke billows, Nick dances.
On stage and off, the melodies rise and fall.


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