Listening to the Stones

Hearing things now

I jus’ ain’t  never heard before;

Hearing so clearly a groove from

A different engine room –

A little to the right of the melody, a

Moonshine young-hat guy with

A tote sack full o’

Sun-warm laburnum honey,

Midnight bone soup ‘n’

Lou’siana-swamp soul

Is blowin’ horn so cat -cool ‘n’

Chain maker heavy that it

Must be jerkin the fallen angel’s strings.

How did I never hear it before:

This rollin’ sugar-brown smoothness?

The tune that’s bringin’ it all

Back home to me now:

Across the missin’ years.

27/7/2013

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13 thoughts on “Listening to the Stones

  1. adatoc says:

    Love it!
    Thanks for sharing it.

  2. ok, i love this poem and the slang and this:

    Louisiana-swamp soul
    Is blowin’ horn so cat -cool ’n’
    Chain maker heavy that it
    Must be jerkin the fallen angel’s strings.

    as soon as this stanza rolled of my tongue as easily as it did, my lips formed a big ole’ grin. just delicious wordplay *still smiling*

    • beeseeker says:

      Thank you, this was me trying to catch a spirit, of the time (then and now), the characters and the pose through language.
      The spellchecker here was going berserk; sent me two resignation letters in the process!
      🙂

  3. Chatty Owl says:

    Made me smile 🙂

  4. PÖ3TIC says:

    Absolutely loved it! Excellent use of colloquial dialect btw!

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