Since I’ve no clout — no friends no lovers about — and life’s a random-rout–
These songs keep coming back for some kind of sung —
Cause I’m getting older–so choir-clung-full of memories,
Can still feel the rhyme of blue skies and the sun;
So wanting to keep the magic spun –smilin’&stayin’ alive.
But I can’t yet see myself as dead and gone– nor help it
That I’m a person of no consequence midst consequences;
Living full-aged&alone–expecting that end for which there’s no remedy.
Daily I read the obits, catch the news of massacres,
And deaths that shouldn’t have happened.
Each night I go to bed — find it hard to sleep,
Find it hard to live with — that I, too, could not awake naturally: or….
Wronged some sunny day at a wrong place at a wrong time.
Wow!! That is hard to take to be so taken;
Taken out howsowhenever and plate emptied unto “done.”
Still, I can’t see myself as dead and gone.
But neither did so many dead see it so,
But they are done&gone as if by a flick of the switch —
Lights out! Never to wake again– like those Massacred
12 beautiful people on Nov. 7 making the toll of
307 in 311 days of TrumpPredatorEra 2018. Error Era! Horror!!
Oh, MASS-MASS-MASS— of so many beautiful
Covenantal Communicants of Celebrant Comraderies of Hope —
Mass Graved and dropped from any Glory Hold of Grace,
Into loss of memory, blue skies black: being alive, done.
DamnIT! DamnIT! DamnIT! That’s hard to take
As I’m still here in my eighties — and “Stayin’ Alive! Stayin’ Alive.
Ah, Ha Ha Ha!!!” — Look! I can still “wait for the sunrise,”
Still think “a new day will begin” with “blue skies smilin’ at me.” Yeah!
But strained midst tests of memory’s keep, loneliness, and aging’s ills;
Yet still a person of no consequence (a PERONOCON),
While many of living’s promise perish: children run-over at bus stops.
Bodies Shot! Shot! Stop It!! How! Some think so-pray so-believe so
That the dead awake in another forever-home;
All with memories-blue skies & stayin’ alive. Should I dance that so-so-so?
Can’t! Just yesterday, 11/8/18, raging wild fires in California
Left the whole town of Paradise burned to the ground;
All homes of 27,000 people destroyed: some burned alive. Oh, learn from the burn!
Still, I can’t see myself as dead: but daily knowing it could any day be so……….
As I still wake to blue skies — singing a strange, new Blues song– TOBECON —
TO BE CONTINUED (in a numb Universe)…Ah, Ha Ha Ha….touch me …. Stayin’ alive!
[Thanks from — mdok — for songs from Webber, Berlin, and the Bee Gees.]
[Added musical note to SONGS OF MEMORY …. The three popular to be sung songs of this APOETESSAY, are balanced beautifully for me by these three instrumental pieces.by — Beethoven-Ackerman-Ravel:
MOONLIGHT SONATA………………………..MEMORY…..moonlight touch me melodies of memory
THE OPENING OF DOORS……………………BLUE SKIES….sparkles of sunlight opening to blue skies BOLERO………………………………………………STAYIN’ ALIVE……the rhythmic beat of life that won’t stop]
I sent the following email to a friend, who thought this APOETESSAY showed I was going deeper into the sadness of loss and these days of random terror.
My dear M of Beannacht!…Seems I did not convey the “blessings” of singing such songs as these three in an age of death traumas. Perhaps you don’t know these three songs. For me the singing is to be continued in transcendence of daily dosages of death and terror. There is unavoidable sadness in death’s reality. There is unavoidable singing in life’s continuance. — Most of my writings are about the ever-demanding dialogue/exegesis of LIFE IN DEATH&DEATH IN LIFE. This piece is ever-so-integral to that assignment. Therefore, I find this SONGS OF MEMORY….to be quite honest to my experience from this unavoidable perspective.— You see, I can & must stand on that precipice and sing my own time’s song&echo midst reverberations/collisions of that primal existence so-ever-active at play in the quotidian of our evolved tertium quid and the constant revelations from the quantum world. — Believe me, I have lived many times through death’s sadness — and still the singer of Memories-Blue Skies & Stay’in Alive. I’ll not change that. My life’s been much the WeR Warrior for Wisdom-Wonder-Works. . . in and from my own time. Seems that will continue so long as I’ve the life for it. Death takes us all. The more singers it takes — the less its victory over who we are and can become on this planet. — Granted,
I may always be a PERONOCON (person of no consequence) in the world of “knowns” other than my own small world. But in all contexts, I have (as does our species) the PERSISTORY (personal history) of being a TOBECON —- to be continued…………………………………………………..