Day 4 of NaPoWriMo!

“A couple of days ago, I suggested you write a poem based on a particular song. Today’s prompt is another musical one, loosely adapted from the suggestions here, which revolve around writing a poem based on a musical form. (Hat tip to P. Agarwal!) Now, the forms they suggest are rather complicated classical forms, but I suggest you write a blues.”

This is right up my alley in terms of lyricism; however, I’ve led a pretty fortunate life and ‘the blues’ don’t really fit into my worldview.  I mean, I can understand the art-form, but my comedies definitely outweigh my tragedies.  Nevertheless, I’ll leave the sentiment to Dante Spinetta & Emmanuel Horvilleur, true Prince-worshippers.

This is my homage to Kuryaki

After everything that has happened to us,
I thought I saw you sitting chatting with a Christ.
Don’t front and say it ain’t love, I ain’t have any fucking clue,
yet your eyes project a yearning and hateful halo.

This is my Texas Rural Electric Woman
Dame tu alma, te doy la tierra
Tu próxima estación será mi lengua

In the night, I will display for you, a droplet
from the last fairy. I promise I will say no more.
In return, I only wish for you to return to my loins.
At one time our souls had been true, but now
you must climb the mountain of nothing,
As you listen to the tears of deplorable children,
Perhaps tomorrow will tell you of the moon’s
breaking on my chest and the echoes of Armageddon
passed on to me by candles as leaves surround my body.

-G. Barbieri

I’m a little late on this one, because, well, I’m in grad school! I’ll let my blues explain my tardiness themselves.

Grad School Blues

Behind the bar in Houston,
I would pull six bills a week.
Oh, behind the bar in Houston,
I would pull six bills a week.
Now I’m teachin Freshman English,
And I can’t afford to eat.

I just read a thousand pages;
But a thousand more are due.
I just read a thousand pages;
But a thousand more are due.
This ole grad school got me readin,
My green eyes are turnin blue.

I had never read Lord Byron,
But I planned to find the time;
I had never read Lord Byron,
But I planned to find the time;
And now I’ve skimmed Lord Byron
So damn quick it is a crime.

I applied to seven conferences,
And I got turned down for six;
I applied to seven conferences,
And I got turned down for six.
Oh my C.V. is more flimsy
Than a house made out of sticks.

When I finally get my Doctorate,
Won’t be women, cars or fame.
When I finally get my Doctorate,
Won’t be women, cars, or fame.
Yes this ole grad school worth so little
That I don’t know why I came.

Well I got to write a thesis,
No idea what it’s about;
Well, I got to write a thesis,
No idea what it’s about.
Guess I’ll start with ole Coetzee
And just hope that it turns out.

If i had it all to do again,
What I chose I might not choose;
Oh baby, baby,let me tell ya
I got them low down
Dirty po, Thousand page a week,
Grad school
Bad schooooooool blues.

-Jody D

By galacticrenaissance

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