and we'll be Nobel Laureates

[Michael (MV)]

 
I hear John Keats --
my brother's voice
free from the urn.

I hear Glenn Fry
through the waves - he's not a dead
eagle.

And Jackson hasn't been prodigal
consciousness in the shape of the heart
never pretending he'll certainly continue
to be playing -
what's a rock 'n roll heaven for.

Singing straight from the heart
sisters of the moon fulfilling
messianic lives laced in lyrics
inspired by the Son
each gifted with a voice her own.

In our youth at the US Festival sharing the headline
a Memorial Weekend, Spring of '83 -
the Emily Brontë of rock's hi-romantasy
introducing another living legend - the surreal Mr. Bowie -

and I hear a king David:
"Heroes" we'll be just us
for more than one day.


Not one of us created for flatlines
even if never a Nobel
belladonnas & nobles
just the same
rocks that roll but do not stone

upon the crag
the heights beyond
the wuthering more more more
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 

[Bernie01]

M---


full of artful turns of phrase and nimble thinking. refreshing. to be sure.

and whimsical, wistful. very inventive poem that i could only embrace and glad hand.


bernie

[Michael (MV)]

at my age & weight - to be "wistful" and still be "whimsical" - and "nimble" too

Thanks, bernie, for your observation - that phrasing might very-well characterize my existence, too - making the poem true to voice

true to voice is not always true to form, perhaps

was Hamlet who was too much wist not enough whim, until Act V scene ii - poetic faith - faith in the poetic -

and whimsical, is that the Spirit moving me, moving us


"glad hand" - since you are a poet and not a politician, I'll just read that as cordial, brother bernie

one lighter -
little flames flick--
and the open air theater lights up


Thanks, bernie, for the visit and for sharing your experience with the poem.


Wonderful to see your presence back home on the Block.

The monthly IBPC is here, perhaps you'll share your insight & enthusiasm in recommending -
perhaps you'll even be representing the Block this upcoming November IBPC 2016.




Michael (MV) a reader-writer embracing the response of another reader-writer to his poem in response to a singer-songwriter, Mr. Bob Dylan, being named a Nobel Laureate

[FranktheFrank]

It is whimsical but maybe I am out of step here
maybe a goose step but I find it
rather too whimsical.

I hear John Keats --
my brother's voice
free from the urn.

[this poetic device to suggest a urn of ashes is speaking , I find it too much
I mean do we do this these days and is it edifying, I can't see it. On another
board I might get pilloried for saying this.

I hear Glenn Fry
through the waves - he's not a dead
eagle.

[Glen Fry I know little about other than he was a performing artist, so will say nothing.]

And Jackson hasn't been prodigal
consciousness in the shape of the heart
never pretending he'll certainly continue
to be playing -
what's a rock 'n roll heaven for.

[Jackson, the singer who majored in drugs and death video's, videos that are
glorifying dead bodies I can't really say how distasteful he was to me
and to me he represented everything that is wrong in this modern age
a mega star followed by possibly a billion people yet snuffed out his
own life by abuse, self abuse, glorifying self indulgence. The only good
thing I can say is he was good at what he did.]

Singing straight from the heart
sisters of the moon fulfilling
messianic lives laced in lyrics
inspired by the Son
each gifted with a voice her own.

In our youth at the US Festival sharing the headline
a Memorial Weekend, Spring of '83 -
the Emily Brontë of rock's hi-romantasy
introducing another living legend - the surreal Mr. Bowie -

[I worked as a youth worker in the 70's and saw a poster of Bowie
in which he was represented as having the body of a dog in the lower
half and human in the top part of his body. I really thought he was nuts
and I wondered what message he was sending to the youth, be nuts it
seemed to say.]

and I hear a king David:
"Heroes" we'll be just us
for more than one day.

King David, the Lord's anointed - a hero to be sure. Full of the spirit yet
an oriental tyrant that killed his enemies, every one captured lined up and
every third man had the head removed from the body. But we cannot deny
he was loved by God, wrote the psalms, very spiritual, did what none of us
could ever do and yet had a man killed, murdered, and took that man's wife,
Bathsheba the mother of King Solomon the writer of the Song of Songs
possibly the greatest love song evr written by man. David paid a price for
his sin with Bathsheba and Absalom, his son from another wife, was killed by
General Joab and his young son died a punishment from God.

So if I get it right these performing artists are a shadow of David who played
the harp, wrote songs, and the psalms that are sung even today yet had
their faults. We overlook them in the hero David because he was loved of God
and somehow we should find good in these imperfect men who are performers
and overlook their weaknesses.

[Michael (MV)]

 
Hi Frank,

Thanks for reading & commenting.


I'm not literally suggesting an urn of ashes is speaking.

I'm acknowledging brother-poet John Keats (btw, born October 31, 1795) as a precursor
for the kinship of other poets & lyricists - fellow laureates to follow

The temporal will pass - the ashes - but the voice & spirit continue free & eternally

There is of course a personalized allusion to Keats' Grecian urn poem - which speaks of life being real & moving forward

What's real doesn't die - genuine creativity - inspired doesn't expire -

I am with you always


and that segues to the next stanza in the 20th & 21st centuries - Glenn Fry - he's not dead(he's not lost), either.

His voice like the soaring eagle continues - paraphasing Isaiah with wings like eagle - we run and not grow weary


That 3rd stanza refers to Jackson Browne (and specifically his album The Pretender), not Michael Jackson.
Maybe instead of the informal familiar, I should mention the surname, too; but the stanza itself should single him.
That's in keeping w/ a theme of the poem - genuine art - true, individual voices & visions.



fast-forwarding to the last stanza - we are all an inspired creation of the Creator - Our Father

created to create and never to expire



in the spirit of workshop & clarification



Michael (MV) 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 

[Michael (MV)]

 
and so we make our choices
but there is no choice
we listen to their voices
ignoring our own voice           -- S. Nicks lyric from Fleetwood Mac's "Sister of the Moon"



I hear John Keats --
my brother's voice
free from the urn.

I hear Glenn Fry
moving through the waves
his breath is not dead air

with wings like eagle we run & play
play & run and not go weary.

And Jackson hasn't been prodigal
consciousness in the shape of the heart
going gold is a purple heart
never pretending Victory

He art
we'll certainly continue
to be playing -
that's what a rock 'n roll heaven's for.
Go ask Hamlet @ Act V scene ii
I believe he'll know.

Singing straight from the heart
sisters of the moon fulfilling
messianic lives laced in lyrics
inspired by the Son
each gifted with a voice her own.

In our youth at the US Festival sharing the headline
a Memorial Weekend, Spring of '83 - a Woodstock affair looking forward
the Emily Brontë of rock's hi-romantasy as leading lady
introduces yet another living legend - the surreal Mr. Bowie -

and I hear a king David:
"Heroes" we'll be just us
for more than one day.


Not one of us created for flatlines
even if never a Nobel prize
belladonnas & nobles
priceless just the same
rocks rolling home do not stone

upon the crag out of sight
but never out of Vision
life reaching larger & even
stronger out of this world

And I hear Our Father's Voice

I am
with you
always

from the heights off the charts & beyond
the wuthering more more more
that's what a Heaven's opera's for
 
 

 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 

[FranktheFrank]

This is a much better version imo Michael and I like it.