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old song
on Saturday morning when I open my eyes
for a second I'm looking into deep blue skies
first the feeling's in my heart then the feeling dies
so before we raise the curtains and open the day
I want to lie warm and still and whole
let it gladden my heart let it fill my soul
let us examine this text written long ago
by a nineteen-year-old girl in Los Angeles
note the appearance of both heart and soul
the sloppy scansion the irregular rhyme
as though no one ever wrote a love song before
what is this feeling she expresses
something stirs in old us, some vague nostalgia
does she really write about love, or, examining
further: she abacons. sun dresses against the wonderow
she is fineteen, sighing beside a peeping rover
alive. how can anyone be so slappy just being ajive
when she is unbubblishable?
she flits up and he tries to fold her back.
floranges on the table smiling. heart in her jest
soul in her droll though her song be dreck.
'
'
'
Last edited by pjouissance, Jul/25/2010, 2:06 am
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Jul/24/2010, 2:56 pm
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Re: old song
Auto, I've read the poem a half dozen times now. Walked away from it, read it again a couple more times, and it still seems forced. Problems begin w/S5,L2 where suddenly the poem's running rhythm gets eschewed. Then what does it mean to abacond, what is a wonderow, and why is the "she' fifteen when a few stanzas before she was nineteen? What is a peeping rover? What does it mean to be unbubblishable? What is a back's floranges? Last couplet makes sense. Speaker wishes she was that nineteen year old again.
quote: pjouissance wrote:
on Saturday morning when I open my eyes
for a second I'm looking into deep blue skies
first the feeling's in my heart then the feeling dies
so before we raise the curtains and open the day
I want to lie warm and still and whole
let it gladden my heart let it fill my soul
let us examine this text written long ago
by a nineteen-year-old girl in Los Angeles
note the appearance of both heart and soul
the sloppy scansion the irregular rhyme
as though no one ever wrote a love song before
what is this feeling she expresses
something stirs in old us, some vague nostalgia
does she really write about love, or, examining
further: she abacons. sun dresses against the wonderow
she is fineteen, sighing beside a peeping rover
alive. how can anyone be so slappy just being ajive
when she is unbubblishable?
she flits up and he tries to fold her back
floranges on the table smiling. heart in her jest
soul in her droll though her song be dreck.
'
'
'
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Jul/24/2010, 9:35 pm
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Re: old song
redolent of Lennon's Write* -- that's "fineteen," Tere, not "fifteen".
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_His_Own_Write
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Jul/24/2010, 10:36 pm
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Re: old song
Hi, Tere,
Not to worry, it's just a little personal poem for fun. The contrast between the past and present -- thought it might be fun to try to represent the girl's joie de vivre, so different from the older narrator's, with a more carefree language, that's all...I'll put a period before "florange" so it's clear it's a new line, thanks for that.
Take care,
Auto
Hi, Christine,
I used to have that book! I did love his puns and plays...
Thanks for stopping in,
Auto
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Jul/25/2010, 2:05 am
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Re: old song
Hi Auto,
I think Libra gets credit for the book association.
As for me, I kept thinking of Joni Mitchell:
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning
and the first thing that I heard...
I guess we were all a little sappy/slappy back then.
I love wondorow and unbubblishable. Wish I'd saved something I wrote back then, but I was dramatic and tore things up.
Chris
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Jul/25/2010, 9:19 am
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Re: old song
Quite so, thanks, Libra!
Heehee, I wish I had torn mine up sometimes! You guys are sharp. I originally wrote "OJ" on the table at the end but decided on oranges even though I knew damn well that on Joni's table in Chelsea "there was milk and toast and honey, a bowl of oranges too." I always thought that was a cool breakfast thereafter. Yikes, and Christine, you caught that slant ref! Yeeks!
Auto
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Jul/25/2010, 2:27 pm
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Re: old song
pjouoissance,
You are attracted, or contain, a lightness that bubbles up aside from whatever serious side you must also have. It forces me to look at this side of life. This seems, thought it might not actually be, like early experimentation with language that you have since taken much farther down the road. It almost seems like early experimentation, though I realize it actually may have been written "after" a lot of your experimentation. It drew me back to that age. Zak
quote: pjouissance wrote:
on Saturday morning when I open my eyes
for a second I'm looking into deep blue skies
first the feeling's in my heart then the feeling dies
so before we raise the curtains and open the day
I want to lie warm and still and whole
let it gladden my heart let it fill my soul
let us examine this text written long ago
by a nineteen-year-old girl in Los Angeles
note the appearance of both heart and soul
the sloppy scansion the irregular rhyme
as though no one ever wrote a love song before
what is this feeling she expresses
something stirs in old us, some vague nostalgia
does she really write about love, or, examining
further: she abacons. sun dresses against the wonderow
she is fineteen, sighing beside a peeping rover
alive. how can anyone be so slappy just being ajive
when she is unbubblishable?
she flits up and he tries to fold her back.
floranges on the table smiling. heart in her jest
soul in her droll though her song be dreck.
'
'
'
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Jul/28/2010, 5:35 am
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Re: old song
Thanks, Zak, your comments hit the spot and are much appreciated. I've been much too serious lately.
Auto
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Jul/28/2010, 11:00 am
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