Those Were the Days – POEM

analog vinyl record
Jazz; mesmerising, as I watch,

the vinyl spin, grooves filled in by,

cigarettes smoked a century ago,

the ash,

A revolving reminder,

that we all must, eventually go,

But some, those precious souls,

are immortal: inspiring,

And I see listen or read; the show so beguiling, as if, their deaths could never be so.

.
The song ended, I won’t tell you which,

and there’s a sadness, in the rich needle analogue,

cigarette burns and old type of yesteryears,

entire back catalogue.

Sporadically, I get lost, ice in my glass molten,

and a fog,

Lifts,

Knowing that in some way the great artists exist,

Preserved a little more with every embrace of nostalgia,

and each reminisce.

.

33 Comments

  1. I must have read your poem at least 3 times. Each time lifting up another layer and making me sink deeper into the past. I felt like I was on the set of The Great Gatsby. “Can’t repeat the past?…Why of course you can!” You did it with this piece πŸ™‚

      1. Yes, I felt like I did not wrap my mind around the depth of it at first read, so I did it again and again πŸ™‚ I sometimes do that when I read good poetry. It keeps the world the piece depicts alive longer in my mind.

  2. Very rich and steeped. You were truly inspired.

    I loved this,

    ‘and there’s a sadness, in the rich needle analogue,

    cigarette burns and old type of yesteryears..

    Very cool.

      1. Poetry is something I have to really be feeling to write but I enjoy it fully when I do pen a poem.
        My brain is usually geared toward story mode with full stops and such, but occasionally likes to get lyrical ☺ I appre iate the sentiment.

  3. Nice. Got kinda stuck at “the ash, A revolving reminder, that we all must, eventually go, But some, those precious souls, are immortal”

    For some reason I thought of the precious souls to be authors and that I might also one day live forever πŸ™‚

    Good work.

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