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Revolver(s)
by Bruce W Niedt
He thought, he thought
to himself:
Im as welcome as the taxman.
Im only sleeping through
this love-life,
fantasy-dreaming.
Id love you to
tackle me, kiss me
here, there and everywhere.
But Im a coward with
submerged emotions
a yellow submarine.
I wish I was a doctor Robert Young
type, gray, authoritative
then youd notice me.
She said, she said
to herself:
Im lonely as Eleanor Rigby.
I want to tell you
Ive got to get you into my life.
I imagine us on a good day sunshine
streams through windows
theres a canary in your kitchen
and your bird can sing
for no one but me.
Will they keep revolving
around each other
like beetles to a bulb?
Or will they make contact?
Tomorrow never knows.
02/23/2003 Author's Note: I was inspired to re-post this after reading Chris Sorrenti's "Let It Be." This poem contains the title of each song from the classic Beatles' album Revolver - see how many you can find. I also invite you to read the other Beatles-themed poems in my "Music" folder - "Analog Days" and "Elegy for George".
Posted on 02/23/2003
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by JD Clay on 02/23/03 at 11:29 PM Strawberry fields forever, Pal. You not only captured the 11 song titles off the American version but the additional 3 from the UK version as well. Nice job.
Peace... |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/24/03 at 12:43 AM Excellent job Bruce. And when you think of how much of the fab four's lyrics and titles were merely poetry put to music, not so surprising you could assemble this jem. One of my favorite albums considering that it and Rubber Soul heralded the transition from boy/girl tunes to the legendary Seargent Pepper'd Lonely Heart's Club Band. |
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