Father loved you as baby Jesus
as sounds of mercies evaporated
from the retro vinyls on the oak
where songs were strong melodies
straws of eyed prolific memories
fine layers of emotional resonance
At the beat of careless whispers
I danced with many a strangers
inside the dreamt cold daydreams
as I lay on my buried teenage bed
the harmonies full of comfort
and sounds that taught me love
As Jesus to a child, I was blinded
fainted at the entrance of a future
satin silk covers and clouded hues
as sadness made love to my corpse
How is it I haven't really changed?
As the misery of the music haunts
At the different corner I shed tears
as poetry became my only shield
under the table the torrents vented
at the knock of the awesome magic
where love was felt and promised
and then shed to eventful shades
Take me back to all these years
Bring me again to the beginning
at the table where we greeted
Every note, pitch and words
remains a vagary of the present
tunes with a stain of now and then
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Father loved you as baby Jesus
as sounds of mercies evaporated
from the retro vinyls on the oak
where songs were strong melodies
straws of eyed prolific memories
fine layers of emotional resonance
At the beat of careless whispers
I danced with many a strangers
inside the dreamt cold daydreams
as I lay on my buried teenage bed
the harmonies full of comfort
and sounds that taught me love
As Jesus to a child, I was blinded
fainted at the entrance of a future
satin silk covers and clouded hues
as sadness made love to my corpse
How is it I haven't really changed?
As the misery of the music haunts
At the different corner I shed tears
as poetry became my only shield
under the table the torrents vented
at the knock of the awesome magic
where love was felt and promised
and then shed to eventful shades
Take me back to all these years
Bring me again to the beginning
at the table where we greeted
Every note, pitch and words
remains a vagary of the present
tunes with a stain of now and then
RIP George Micheal. Papa was a big fan and me too...... Great part of my teenage years. My kind of music. Writing the piece brought great memories too. I would listen to the emotions in Georges music as a young one and then write a journal and stories based on it..... lol. Old days and their oddity.
Different corner and Careless whispers
Jesus to a child: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNBj4EV_hAo
