got a rolls royce

August 5, 2008 at 6:31 pm | Posted in music, prosepoemthingy, writing | 11 Comments
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‘cos its good for my voice,
anyone can write maudlin introspection
looking into a goddamn mirror, sir ian, he said
clattering up from his chair and tossing
kings and pawns and chequered boards across the room,
play that Amsterdam Song again
the one in which squalls approached and not a man objected,
slamming his drink down on the piano in F.
and leaning in smelling of salt fish, absynthe
and the last trace of some Egyptian cigarette,
so close his whiskers brushed my cheek and whispering,
have you seen the piano player, my dear,
his gift was only in his hands,
as he closed the diamond clasp around my throat
leaned back and smiled
or has he disappeared,

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11 Comments »

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  1. So real! As if visiting my next door neighbour…The simplicity of the words chosen by a complex mind such as yours is so charming!
    Hayat, hello. You have been gone so long and it is a joy to see you back again. And thankyou for your gorgeous comment. After you read this one I broke it up with linebreaks to make it more song like, I hope, maybe. Hello, I missed your wonderful music,

  2. Hmmm, a new perspective – but you see, he will pique her interest for the piano player’s hands maybe, perhaps, or not. I love the da-di-da of ‘Egyptian Cigarette’ oh and much more besides, of course.

    And casting an eye over your new look page – I’m commenting but not particularly looking for attention – very shy I am, haha.
    Oh no. You have embarrased me with your too quick mind again, Mary. I will change it. Whoops, thankyou,

  3. Ah…lovely…:)
    Thankyou, my queen,

  4. ‘Tis indeed true that anyone can write an introspection, and a maudlin one at that. But who has eyes that can truely turn about in the head and look inward? HMMMM?
    Hell, you know me, I try all the time and all I get is drunken endeavor (but then again, what endeavor is worthy unless drunken)
    This though is the Pual of familiar comfort, the shrapnal storyline of inuendo and alagory. I was worried when I read about the river, possessed by singular vision.
    I was worried perhaps the end was nigh…
    Haha, the end is nigh, Ozy, eventually,

  5. bluesy or maybe it’s because I’m simultaneously listening to the vpod’s “I put a spell on you.” Reminds me of Nina Simone. bluesy title and first line too.
    Cocoyea, your band rocks! Did you see yourself in the Vodpod? I am going to buy the album too. You are a fantastic drummer,

  6. pure magic
    Thankyou, Tipota.

  7. “anyone can write maudlin introspection
    looking into a goddamn mirror, sir ian, he said”

    hahahaha another WINK that encourages me to LIGHTEN UP 😉

    Thanks. The name change is intriqueing! lol
    Grace, thankyou. Have fun, my entire blogging philosophy. I changed the name back again. But the changes will keep coming. I am in a transformative mood, woohoo,

  8. HI Paul, for some reason i wasn’t allowed to comment on your river poem, that was odd (the not being able to comment, not the poem, which i really enjoyed, specially the crabs).

    Anyway i’ve given you a blog award, I know you might not be into that kind of thing, but come over to my blog anyway to find out more…
    Wow, thankyou, Juliet. That is a beautiful award. I’m honoured and flattered. Thankyou,

  9. Janis Joplin and Casablanca, somehow. Very surreal, the way you make images and associations charge headlong into my brain, not to mention my fingers drumming on the table..
    Cool, Janis and Casablanca, that’s a flattery, thankyou,

  10. I read it today third time lucky, I finally got it 😦 … Gorgeous, my favorite “his gift was only in his hands” 🙂

  11. The above is me, caught between dimensions 😦
    Whoops, you have oscillated through the Takeshi-Kitano Nexus and emerged as Mental Mist again, yayaya,


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