listen to the beautiful dead sing.

listen to the beautiful dead sing.

 

that jukebox is an aftermath psalmist

with more stories to tell

than a thousand history books.

 

each voice cries out for connection,

each instrument yelps and thumps

visceral familiarity: a purely human howl.

 

they were all fallible beasts with bad habits

and kinks and crooked teeth and scars

on skin and deep-rooted mental pain

like us.

 

they sinned like we sin; broke as we will break.

but, the brilliant moments still shine

like starlight and still shock like scar-fright.

 

the feeling still rides from the soles

to the scalp like electrical spirits,

causing the living to move; to be free.

 

and, when she wears that Calypso red dress,

and dances to the voices of ages

with rubber joints and an alligator smile,

 

I say a little prayer. thank God for rock & roll.

because those beautiful dead keep us fed and upright

when gospel seems to lie, and philosophy can’t

look us directly in the eyes, and politics lurch to strike

us down.

 

this is how Heaven and Hell resound.

 

this is our church.

these are our hymns.

she is my salvation tonight.

 

tomorrow the living may make more sense.

until then, we’ll dance with the past,

and make love like antique teenagers.

 

selah!

boo-bop-shu-wadda-bing!

hey-ho! let’s go!

oi! oi! oi!

amen!

Reviews

[freelancejouster]

as always, or as i'm used to, your words are wonderful and strong and sprinkled with a little bit of what's either pixie dust or dandruff. i especially like the phrase "rubber joints and an alligator smile." i don't know if the heaven and hell bit is as fluid as it could be, like it seems to not quite have the feel that the rest does. the ending is wonderful, just a little bit on nonsense scat to pull it all together.

on another note. aye. you. pull through :)

This is one of those poems that gets up and dances when you read it.

[Victoria PoetryBunny]

I love how you wrote this, so strong and so thought thinking. Love the way you wrote things like a sort of comparison, like the jukebox in stanza 1 with history books, and antique teenagers... really really nice.

[Ruth]

You know hon...every piece I read from you spins me! Blooming brilliant lol
This is so cool...reliving the past through your metaphors is like trickling honey sores! And I mean that in a glorious way!
Sublime wording again...a fav :)
xx

[Tkess]

I've spent most of my adult life praying to the god of rock and roll. Those songs are my psalms. The bar my alter. Wonderful write, my good man.

[KAREN]

Wonderful writing!
tomorrow the living may make more sense.
until then, we'll dance with the past,
and make love like antique teenagers.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A full and powerful message of intergration to al things that effect even the smallest of thought, well done, great read.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Just beautiful, one of your best. I want to be at this form of church.

[Pretty Faces Split Open]

This is amazing! I love
"this is our church.
these are our hymns.
she is my salvation tonight."
Well done sir!

[K.C. Zbryk]

Astounding how this poem strikes deep into the heart of the reader, dragging out emotions and feelings. Somehow this reminds me of a dark version of a 50's diner. Powerful and vividly written, you pulled me right into the piece.