Tag Archive: Rock


talkin’ bobby dylan blues … … …

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'illusory art' by Maya

howling moons, broken teaspoons, cajole me back, to the track, the path i tread, sans fear sans dread, this death row shell, a barren cell, twisting and torn, of all humanity shorn, a living being, passing through this world unseeing, left in rags to rot at the curb of the road, where golden chariots roam and rode, gleaming heels, covet deal-wheedlin’ real deals, tossin’ a few spares in the outstretched cup, off on silken robes to fly, far from the dregs, the chattel, the me’s and you’s & i, high on up into the golden sky, paradise waits, stalks, preys, on this highway of hurt, and on many doleful by-ways … and still, yet, through it all, im stuck in his shell, this cell, and though this is written in joburg city, where i do dwell, if woody’d be here, he’d damn us all to fascist hell … … …

Song for Springsteen …

For Bruce …

it was a rain-swept monsoon day

way back then, so many moons away

when i felt the music strumming in my veins

setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins

you sang of simple truths,

your verse spoke to people just like me

in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night

as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone’s plight

‘bobby jean’ spoke to me

of that girl down the street

glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet

and ‘the river’ that flowed through my ever-barren heart

led me down further roads of thunder

when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on

and never to surrender

to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run

while i danced in the dark

with memories vivid and stark

even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark

and then a ‘human touch’ came along

and ‘better days’ seemed real, not just words in a song

and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes

as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies

in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned

as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned

and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up

working on a highway of scattered ideals

and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup

well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road

with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad

but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night

just like the ghost of that old tom joad…

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