Kristofferson

a poem about love and music

 I used to read Sylvia Plath to you,

And Charles Bukowski, and Langston Hughes,

The greats loomed in our heads while we slept.

 

I used to hold your hand,

And it was always cold,

It gave me goose bumps.

 

I played you Kris Kristofferson,

And you just played me,

With the skill of someone who had done this,

So many times before.

 

I wanted to tell you all the things,

That Kris, and Sylvia said so effortlessly.

 

I wanted to stop the music,

Stop the poetry,

And scream at you to feel like that for me.

 

I never quite summoned up the courage.

 

I never managed to inspire,

That same poetry from you.

 

I still remember the day,

You gave me back my scratched up Kristofferson cd.

 

I’m glad you gave it back,

You never understood my taste in music anyway.

Reviews

[Pax Analog]

Very cool to see ol' Kris appreciated by another generation. Haven't listened to his stuff in years, tho' I recall his lyric touch. . .that business about a poet, prophet, picker, preacher being "a walking contradiction, partly truth, and partly fiction, takin' every wrong direction, on his lonely way back home."

What one tends to call Dylanesque, tho' all us songwriters, known, unknown, semi-known, with a certain poetic pulse in our veins, are prone to roll out such lines from time to time. Dig the Bukowski quote on your profile too. You seem to be addressing this to a poet of some sort who won't favor you with and inspired response. If so, what a frickin' fool! A woman's beauty of mind, face, body, soul is the greatest gift to the world. A guy who can't respond with his whole heart to that is as good as dead.

Well, you did say the dude's hand was always cold. Brrrr!

I guess Sylvia's spirit was around for the elegy.

I wish you much happiness in all your creative endeavors.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Hey a very well written piece, I will say that if someone doesn't understand you then they certainly can't love you so you are better off playing your music for someone else... I love the reference to returning the scratched CD, it's like saying returning my damaged heart.

[Adrian K. Smith]

I have to admit that I was caught unawares as you delivered the line about being just played. It is interesting to note that people say cold hands and a warm heart, but you contradict that powerfully as just some cliche as all that was was wanted was that warmth of the heart - that never came. The scratched CD added well to the idea of simply having been used. Yes, it is tough to find one that can understand our tastes in music - that language we speak.

[Rachel DeHart]

Wow.. This is so amazing..
I know the feelings here so well.. And you put them up beautifully!!!

Thanks so much for posting this.