MUSIC
it was music that filtered
ever so softly into my brain
and rain gently swept the lingering tears
and fears from my eyes
and I was alone in the vortex
without the forces of nature to help me
but there was a rusting relic
not beautiful in the traditional sense
sitting by my fence
and it's life and tragedy shone through
despite its rough appearance
and adherence to black magic, it wasn't tragic
but where are all the rusting relics of my life?
wrapped around my finger
in a band of gold that told no-one of the longing
for another lover and a piece of bread
that was bred in those old wheat-fields back home
and when those ears of wheat get rotten
you don't pick any winners from the form guide
but drift inexorably into a coma
or the comma that followed nothing
or something intangible
I know I'm rambling
and ranting
but I'm also panting with lust
for the red faced girl
who never wears knickers
but as the light flickers who notices anyway?
there was music that drew me across the room
to a stereo
that played only the jazz greats of the '50's
and how nifty is that, that a chance meeting
with a vestal non-virgin could
be urging me to strip naked
in front of a roomful of suited executives
whose defective eyesight never lighted upon me
foresight, hindsight or game-play
were words that appeared in the sky
writ large against the evidence of one loony
whose mathematical genius won friends
but failed to influence the foreplay
or was that five-play which is better than sex
but its effects are felt across that world
just a ramble!