Crows scream and pitch in the woods
like the ruckus of old women fighting
for the shreds of their lives.
from “Mid February” by Ann Campanella
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And that old time feelin’ goes sneakin’ down the hall,
Like an old gray cat in winter, keepin’ close to the wall.
And that old time feelin’ comes stumblin’ up the street,
Like an old salesman kickin’ the papers from his feet.
And that old time feelin’ draws circles around the blok,
Like old women with no children, holdin’ hands with the clock.
And that old time feelin’ fall on it’s face in the park,
Like and old wino prayin’ he can make it ’till it’s dark.
And that old time feelin’ comes and goes in the rain,
Like an old man with his checkers, dyin’ to find a game.
And that old time feelin’ plays for beer in bars,
Like and old blues-time picker who don’t recall who you are.
And that old time feelin’ limps through the night on a crutch,
Like an old soldier wonderin’ if he’s paid too much.
And that old time feelin’ rocks and spits and cries,
Like and old lover rememberin’ the girl with the clear blue eyes.
Artist: Clark Guy
Song: That Old Time Feeling
<the curmudgeon writes>
I have always liked this song in spite of the fact that I feel it musically needs a bridge in a desperate way. That is to say, the curmudgeon gets a little more desperate for a bridge with each verse. Most of all, I like the simile in the first line, of the first verse. It is a song of completely made up of similes which follow anthropomorphism.
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From the song “Short Skirt/Long Jacket” by Cake
With fingernails that shine like justice/And a voice that is dark like tinted glass.
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From “On Catalpa Street” “by Jo McDougall from Towns Facing Railroads
At dusk, when kitchen-window light
settles on the grass like a picnic cloth …
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From “A Piece of News” Short Story by Eudora Welty
It was dark and vague outside. The storm had rolled away to faintness like a wagon crossing a bridge.
It’s a bit lengthy in comparison to your current entries; yet contextually it’s a go. “Almost Gothic,” written by someone we both seem to like.
I’m working on gospel time these days
(The summer – this could be the cool part of the summer)
The sloe-eyed creature in the reckless room she’s so severe
A wise child walks right out of here
I’m so excited I can barely cope
I’m sizzling like an isotope
I’m on fire so cut me some slack
First she’s way gone then she comes back
She’s all business then she’s ready to play
She’s almost gothic in a natural way
This house of desire is built foursquare
(The city – the cleanest kitten in the city)
When she speaks it’s like the slickest song I ever heard
I’m hanging on her every word
As if I’m not already blazed enough
She hits me with the cryptic stuff
That’s her style – to jerk me around
First she’s all feel then she cools down
She’s pure science with a splash of black cat
She’s almost gothic and I like it like that
This dark place so thrilling and new
It’s kind of like the opposite of an aerial view
Unless I’m totally wrong
I hear her rap and brother it’s strong
I’m pretty sure that what she’s telling me is mostly lies
But I just stand there hypnotized
I’ll just have to make it work somehow
I’m in the amen corner now
It’s called love – I spell L -U- V
First she’s all buzz then she’s noise-free
She’s bubbling over then there’s nothing to say
She’s almost gothic in a natural way
She’s old school then she’s like young
Little Eva meets the Bleecker Street brat
She’s almost gothic but it’s better than that
- Donald Fagan