01-21-2016, 11:05 PM
'Helter Skelter' (revision 1.00 Tom)
(for Billy)
Her eyes sparkled with a glisten, but I would not be deceived.
“If you’ll not help out,” I said to her, “then please just ‘Let it be’.”
I knew I’d heard that tune before, when I lived out on the coast,
played by 'The Band', the singer was I think the Holy Ghost.
Left the God and Jesus group so he could strut his stuff
he had this one big top ten hit then things got pretty rough.
He sang, “The music died when someone stole a piece of pie”,
I don’t remember much of it, as usual I was high.
Or was it in the park, a cake left out in the rain;
it’s hard to keep this history straight inside my pickled brain.
Lucy, it's said, it hurt the most, she saw Holly kiss the sky,
she turned to dope, she couldn’t cope, on the day John died.
His death made her depressed she said, "There’s no 'joy to the world"
and it always comes in threes you know, like Jimi, Jim and Pearl;
along with the preacher and two brothers: Martin, Bob and Jack.
We knew that summer was the end love wasn’t coming back.
It broke my faith, I did forsake, but still I will not lie.
It was The Fall, I lost the trust for the spirit in the sky.
Then 'Levon' printed toy balloons saying God was just a lie,
and there’s no hope for reunion unless the others also die.
I do concede the spook was right the music was truly gone,
only the echoes of what once had been now still lingers on.
Left are false memories of something we thought was great,
blinded by our ignorance and now it is too late.
To this day we reminisce, reminisce and cry,
never able to forget we lost our piece of pie.
Except for those who kept the faith, and then they paid the price,
we’d not the leisure to sit and stew, but for their sacrifice.
Tin soldiers then we were it's true tin soldiers still today,
we never had integrity we’d likely run away.
It mattered not what cause it was; equality—civil rights,
we cared not for the principle we were fighting just to fight.
It was the time of our rebellion, individuation close at hand,
we played it all by ear those years ago we never had a plan.
We did it all quite willingly for that bitch we put to torch,
better to ride through the desert astride a British man called horse.
So now the Miller’s tale is told, the Lady’s in her bath,
tiny dancers aren’t your answer when she begins to laugh.
'When you get to the bottom of the top' to begin anew this tale,
there's something coarse for you to pass, of course it’s pass or fail.
So find a 'mellow yellow' fellow, that can shake it well,
have him 'skip the light fandango' to a "Whiter Shade of Pale".
erthona
©2009 rev 2016
original
(for Billy)
Her eyes sparkled with a glisten, but I would not be deceived.
“If you’ll not help out,” I said to her, “then please just ‘Let it be’.”
I knew I’d heard that tune before, when I lived out on the coast,
played by 'The Band', the singer was I think the Holy Ghost.
Left the God and Jesus group so he could strut his stuff
he had this one big top ten hit then things got pretty rough.
He sang, “The music died when someone stole a piece of pie”,
I don’t remember much of it, as usual I was high.
Or was it in the park, a cake left out in the rain;
it’s hard to keep this history straight inside my pickled brain.
Lucy, it's said, it hurt the most, she saw Holly kiss the sky,
she turned to dope, she couldn’t cope, on the day John died.
His death made her depressed she said, "There’s no 'joy to the world"
and it always comes in threes you know, like Jimi, Jim and Pearl;
along with the preacher and two brothers: Martin, Bob and Jack.
We knew that summer was the end love wasn’t coming back.
It broke my faith, I did forsake, but still I will not lie.
It was The Fall, I lost the trust for the spirit in the sky.
Then 'Levon' printed toy balloons saying God was just a lie,
and there’s no hope for reunion unless the others also die.
I do concede the spook was right the music was truly gone,
only the echoes of what once had been now still lingers on.
Left are false memories of something we thought was great,
blinded by our ignorance and now it is too late.
To this day we reminisce, reminisce and cry,
never able to forget we lost our piece of pie.
Except for those who kept the faith, and then they paid the price,
we’d not the leisure to sit and stew, but for their sacrifice.
Tin soldiers then we were it's true tin soldiers still today,
we never had integrity we’d likely run away.
It mattered not what cause it was; equality—civil rights,
we cared not for the principle we were fighting just to fight.
It was the time of our rebellion, individuation close at hand,
we played it all by ear those years ago we never had a plan.
We did it all quite willingly for that bitch we put to torch,
better to ride through the desert astride a British man called horse.
So now the Miller’s tale is told, the Lady’s in her bath,
tiny dancers aren’t your answer when she begins to laugh.
'When you get to the bottom of the top' to begin anew this tale,
there's something coarse for you to pass, of course it’s pass or fail.
So find a 'mellow yellow' fellow, that can shake it well,
have him 'skip the light fandango' to a "Whiter Shade of Pale".
erthona
©2009 rev 2016
original
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
Thanks for giving it a read. I thought no one was ever going to comment. Poor poem, all left out in the cold.