Don’t we all need some ruby slippers?
Three clicks and you’re home
For me home was on a shady street on the Upper West Side
with sunlight slipping through the trees
on my way back from school after a day of Fitzgerald
Lost and seduced by Daisy and Jay, longing to join the glittering soirée
at the mansion in West Egg
as the evening reflections like diamonds on the water danced
as the characters inside pretended to live the American Dream
behind illusions of wealth and class
as the champagne glasses clinked and the silk dresses swirled
the men in black tie deluded, as though chained
to the tragedy that the ideal of true love can never be attained
And that society is fractured and unbalanced
Charmed and brokenhearted by Holden Caulfield
His rakish ways
His dream for the golden days of youth to never end
And the shattering clarity that innocence will halt
And his heart will never mend
And always always the secret and sad and shocking Diary of Anne Frank
Her heroic but silent monologues in the attic
and the vision to this day of Anne and Peter sitting quietly,
looking out a dirty window onto a
a smashed and splintered and evil world
just a little girl and a boy
but still finding joy in the face of doom, fatally unsure…
I was a minor, and pure
Intoxicated by prose
Life seemed so long back then,
And now it’s
who knows…?
My canary yellow walkman transported me on
the streets of New York
like a film of my life
and fed me like an addict into my veins
the lyrics and music that shaped my hungry soul and my blossoming mind
I could wander for hours and lose all track of time
“Suite Judy Blue Eyes”
by Crosby Stills and Nash
Miles Davis “Kind of Blue “
as the ash
of your forbidden cigarette curlicues like a snake in the air
you look out the window and now
Joni Mitchell consumes you
but still you are alone,
staring at your makeup
scrunched up in a peach velvet flea market chair
Third coat of mascara, pulling out tendrils of hair
the seduction of Stevie Wonder
excruciating, and gorgeous, is each word for you?
Golden lady
Golden lady
I’d like to go there
I am the golden lady
Amazing how narcissism defined us in our adolescent glory
listen again,
Have you read Tuesdays with Morrie?
the Soundtracks of those years…
Butch Cassidy and Shaft and Chinatown and The Sting
Any music lovers out there,
remember the deep longing it all brings…?
Donna Summer or Debussy
anything
that made me move
and groove
to lose myself, to find myself
all those precious cassettes left on a random filthy storage shelf…
If Beethoven had not gone deaf, would society find
that the prodigy’s days of triumph were unmerited?
And finally the divine Barbara Streisand,
here’s where I inherited
the best of my theme songs
that made my teenage spirit pulse
with melancholy and desire
and curiosity about my future
In those winters,
we all wore cheap vintage fur
and the strings soar now
Sail on silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine…
Cue the music
Life is a minefield
of melodies
“Wild Horses”
by the Rolling Stones
It’s a slow sexy beat
that’s best served in the heat
Of a lazy afternoon
A rolling stone gathers no moss…
Isn’t it hard at a certain age not to focus on loss
Hold on tight to your friends
Don’t worry about the end
As a Beatle said long ago “All you Need is Love “
Slip into hope like a cream suede glove
And step onto the red carpet of your life and dazzle’em
Three clicks Dorothy
Listen closely
There it is…
The Wizard is applauding
I enjoyed that. Thank you!
Very lyrical and evocative.
Thanks for sharing such creative images.
One nit.
It’s BarBRA Streisand, not Barbara.
I share so many of these memories! It’s almost as though we shared the same walkman and walked those streets together. Thanks for helping me relive a lovely moment in time with your poetry.
Me too.
Lovely, those sensuous drifting memories