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Friday, May 6, 2016

Boldly Going Nowhere

Thursday, December 7, 2006

Being the Walrus

Poetry is ingenious, preposterous, whimsical and profound. It doesn't even have to make sense to be good because somewhere, someone will comprehend it.

Clearly, songwriters are the poets of our time.

* * *

A Whiter Shade of Pale by Willie Nelson

We skipped the light fandango

and turned cartwheels across the floor.

I was feeling kind of seasick, the crowd called out for more.

The room was humming harder and the ceiling flew away.

When we called out for another drink, the waiter brought a tray.

And so it was that later, as the miller told his tale,

That her face, at first so ghostly, turned a whiter shade of pale.

* * *

If I Were a Carpenter by Tim Hardin

If I were a carpenter and you were a lady,

Would you marry me anyway, would you have my baby.

If a tinker were my trade, would you still find me;

Carrying the pots I'd made, following behind me.

Save my love through loneliness, save my love for sorrow.

I've given you my onliness, come give me your tomorrow.

* * *

Everybody Knows by Leonard Cohen

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded;

everybody rolls with their fingers crossed.

Everybody knows that the war is over;

everybody knows the good guys lost.

Everybody knows the fight was fixed,

the poor stay poor, the rich get rich.

That's how it goes, everybody knows.

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking;

everybody knows that the captain lied.

Everybody's got this broken feeling,

like their father or their dog just died.

* * *

Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash

When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son,

Always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns."

But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry.

* * *

I am a Rock by Paul Simon

I have my books and my poetry to protect me;

I am shielded in my armor, hiding in my room,

safe within my womb.

I touch no one and no one touches me.

I am a rock; I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain; and an island never cries.

* * *

I am the Walrus by John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come;

Corporation tee-shirts, stupid bloody Tuesday,

Man, you've been a naughty boy; you let your face grow long.

I am the egg man. They are the egg men.

I am the walrus. Koo koo Kachoo.

* * *

Everyone is a poet; they just don't know it. One man's senseless gibberish is another man's poetic genius.

As a carnal being, I am a container of protoplasm.

As a person of interest, I am beyond recognition.

As one among many, I am a means to an end.

As an immortal soul, I am one with the infinite.

I am a figment of imagination in a sea of circumstance.

I am a great mystery within a greater mystery.

I am eternity.

I am the walrus.

Koo koo kachoo.

Now, that's poetry.

* * *

Bret Burquest is an award-winning columnist and author of four novels, which are available at Amazon.com. He can be contacted at bret@centurytel.net.