And I live on a dark star
On the edge of a black hole
Which I will fall into any day
Now there is a singularity of night
An utter absence of light.
The colours leached away
When I wasn't looking
And now the music is silent too.
What should I do?
The speed of light
Is certainly
Insufficient to escape
From this orbit of gloom
This reconnoitring of grief
This rehearsal of death
This sense of nothing left.
John , a fine poetic expression of heartfelt depression.
But no not 'certainly'. Light is always the antidote to darkness.
Look for the dawn
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This is my favourite of all their tracks, John. It inspired me when I was first out there as a musician. It has a feel like a gypsy dance to me being resoundingly in the minor key! This is a poem which stretches the imagination and flirts with a sort of inevitable sense of fear, magnetically attractive. I like the fact you put this innocuous question in there; It gives it a childlike innocence.
I challenge anyone there not to be drawn by this. Am I a rare spirit being attracted to work of talent?
Ray
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John Marks
Mon 25th Nov 2019 22:11
You are a musician and music is the highest of the arts, because the most abstract. It is the musicality of poetry - its rhythm, metre, assonance, alliteration, rhyme, half-rhyme - which allows it its gravitas. Words put to measure. I admire your dogged optimism Fish. But I do not wish to share it. We certainly do NOT live in the best of all possible worlds. And, yes, Ray, it was brave of the Stones to use a minor key, but it works, gloriously. Incidentally, the title is taken from Plath's poem 'Tulips' about her experience in hospital after an unsuccessful suicide attempt:
My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water
Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.
They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep.
Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage——
My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox,
My husband and child smiling out of the family photo;
Their smiles catch onto my skin, little smiling hooks.
John