My fingers tear across the hard brass strings.
They ache to find the right note
the right chord
to trigger my memory.
I found you once in a diminished B 7
but you vanished and moved on
and I’ve been playing ever since.
And what if you’re a melody,
Lost in a pattern in these goddamned frets.
Then I’ll learn to write songs
like I learned to play guitar.
I’ll find you, I swear,
and I’ll play you until I fall asleep.
I’ll play you until I bleed.
I’ll play you until I remember
or hallucinate the feeling
of your beautiful, calloused fingers on my face.
*Edited. Someone suggested an edit of this poem a few months back, but I couldn’t see it until now. I think this is…better.
I thought I recognized this. I like the edit. It has a nice flow. And a more urgent feel.Very nice. I always liked this poem.
Thanks, Eric. It’s sort of lame that after, what, three months all I’ve added is an edit. But I’m sooooo close to being done with my Masters. I can’t wait to write something new. Something that doesn’t have the word hegemony in it.
I recognized it too. It’s a great piece of work. It’s not lame to see you after 3 months with this. It is just good to se you back.
Shehanne, thank you. I really can’t wait to have a bit more time. I’ve missed writing. I’ve also missed playing guitar… I will write more soon.
never saw the original, but I loved the new presentation, it was easy to feel the details and images as they told the emotional story. Very well done.
Thanks very much.
studied
the ‘diminished B7’ reminded me of a piece I wrote in search of a whole city, excuse me: http://mlewisredford.wordpress.com/2011/09/30/city-twilight/
Indeed! Thank you for sharing.
This is beautiful. I love the thought of love-making and music-making woven together, playing each other, whether a lover, or parent, or child, or friend.
Thank you Deborah. Music and love are forever inseparable for me. I’m so glad you liked it.