Bounce Your Soul

A free-verse, stream-of-conscious style poem dealing with the intricacies of my favorite punk band, the Bouncing Souls. My words could never fully describe how incredible they truly are in person.

Bounce Your Soul

 

There’s scratches in the gold surface of the Marshall amplifier,

etched into the metal by countless fingernail grazings, hip bumpings, knob dialings.

At venues across the world, a guitarist from New Jersey has

Adjusted the dials carefully, his ear close to the device, trying to crack the safe

to a vault labeled "Music and Emotion."

 

In this expansive, twisting bunker of genres and survival, it’s easy to lose your integrity.

It’s easy to lose your way and end up exactly where you never wanted to be.

IF you make it through in one piece, you’ll reach a white castle on the other side,

an impenetrable fortress defended by a loyal and powerful brotherhood.

Deep within the heart of the palace,

In a faded brown Doc Martin shoe box,

there lies the secrets of the trade,

the formulas for optimism and contentment,

and the recipes for comprehension and acceptance.

 

If you can read the hieroglyphics of his subconscious that are 

ground into the Marshall amplifier, 

you’ll see the stories of the sacrifices, 

you’ll see the girl that got away, 

and the one that didn’t.

You’ll know the worries that spread through his mind

as he put the ring on the finger of his strongest obsession:

 

that guitar became his wife, those chords grew into a life,

and he built a home one bar room, one mile at a time.  

 

The three other men he plays with seem as battle hardened as he is,

equally consumed by the beauty of sweat, rock and roll, and indefinite youth.

They’re all in love with Sheena, a punk rocker.

Fact is, many fall in love with her,

but few attract her favor.

The only other boys she loved so much were another East coast crew,

A posse of boys with the last name of....damn, I can't recall...perhaps "Simone?"

 

Their instruments are humble.

Nothing shines ostentatiously,

Each guitar has a blemish,

yet their smiles shine with brilliance,

as they strum, shout, and pound their way

from their hearts to our soles,

Burrowing like parasites into our feet,

teaching the audience that

life isn’t about the sour, it’s about the sweet,

that dancing isn’t rude,

and that the humor doesn’t have to be tongue in cheek.

Fun can be as natural as breathing.

It can illuminate a path,  dismantle your doubts,

& communicate without a single spoken word.

 

They know how to bounce a person’s soul.

 

Reviews

[Richielee]

Very interesting read

[alerodri]

to me his poem is real grunck with i love, it almost seams as u play an instrument and captur ethe feelings of musitians and how rock and roll moves the young

[JimmyFlux]

Solid poem, pal. Props for sharing punk rock soul with the reader. You capture its spirit well.

[.......]

This is wonderful I really like the emotions and depth in this.