Remember?
We used to go poetry readings in the Cross, late 80's
Listen to Steve read his lucid stories in his accent
Frank would ramble, highly intelligent obviously, but still a rambler
We were captivated by the passion, the character, the honesty
We were enthralled by the words
The words selected
For their mystique and power
The words connected
Hubbed together like a daisy chain, droplets in a shower
The words intersected
Colliding with force
Voices rode hoarse
Arms swirling
Verbal symphonies
A concert of concepts spinning and twirling
Peter was one like that
He'd go into a trance it seemed
Some would be read, the rest ad-libbed
It was poetry his stuff, real poetry
Melodic and moving
Hypnotic and grooving
Joe was funny ha ha hilarious
A barrister, retired early
He'd write outrageous letters to council
Pompous tones
Read them out with the responses
Those suits got owned!
Others were good, too
Renee, the tree Davids, Captain Angus
Rob, of course, sharp as a whip
And Marla who danced with no undies at a party
In Bondi, in front of the full length mirror
Sometimes the surprise newbie
Talent like lightening
Out of nowhere, sharp and bright
Lots of red wine, from the cask
Two bucks in a plastic cup
Ciggie breaks, mostly rollies
Sprinkling of drug use
As habit or just to enhance, to amuse
Remember you'd get nervous
Before you went up those few stairs to the stage
Mouth dry, hands clammy
But once you made it to the mike
And got started
It was like an old bike, riding downhill
Wind in your hair
Giggling on the inside
Suddenly unselfconscious, but intimately self aware
The Aquatic Club, on the hill there, mostly
Upstairs at a restaurant in Darlo
Sometimes at a pub or in a basement
Didn't matter
We were loose comrades, bygone bohemians
United by aspirations, dreams, love
Of ideas and spirit expressed in word
Tuneless song
It was a much simpler time,
No mobiles, no net, and yet
We communicated so much more
And with beauty and grace
Exposed, fearless and raw
Liberated and protected by prose
Uplifted by staccato rants
Seduced by mellifluous chants
We made it up, line at a time
We shared of each other
Gave what we had in syntax and rhyme
Those were some good nights, eh?
Just big kids at play - the outsiders, the rebels, the fray
My word
And yours
Something to listen to
Something to say
Things are different these days
Yeah, everything is different these days
We used to go poetry readings in the Cross, late 80's
Listen to Steve read his lucid stories in his accent
Frank would ramble, highly intelligent obviously, but still a rambler
We were captivated by the passion, the character, the honesty
We were enthralled by the words
The words selected
For their mystique and power
The words connected
Hubbed together like a daisy chain, droplets in a shower
The words intersected
Colliding with force
Voices rode hoarse
Arms swirling
Verbal symphonies
A concert of concepts spinning and twirling
Peter was one like that
He'd go into a trance it seemed
Some would be read, the rest ad-libbed
It was poetry his stuff, real poetry
Melodic and moving
Hypnotic and grooving
Joe was funny ha ha hilarious
A barrister, retired early
He'd write outrageous letters to council
Pompous tones
Read them out with the responses
Those suits got owned!
Others were good, too
Renee, the tree Davids, Captain Angus
Rob, of course, sharp as a whip
And Marla who danced with no undies at a party
In Bondi, in front of the full length mirror
Sometimes the surprise newbie
Talent like lightening
Out of nowhere, sharp and bright
Lots of red wine, from the cask
Two bucks in a plastic cup
Ciggie breaks, mostly rollies
Sprinkling of drug use
As habit or just to enhance, to amuse
Remember you'd get nervous
Before you went up those few stairs to the stage
Mouth dry, hands clammy
But once you made it to the mike
And got started
It was like an old bike, riding downhill
Wind in your hair
Giggling on the inside
Suddenly unselfconscious, but intimately self aware
The Aquatic Club, on the hill there, mostly
Upstairs at a restaurant in Darlo
Sometimes at a pub or in a basement
Didn't matter
We were loose comrades, bygone bohemians
United by aspirations, dreams, love
Of ideas and spirit expressed in word
Tuneless song
It was a much simpler time,
No mobiles, no net, and yet
We communicated so much more
And with beauty and grace
Exposed, fearless and raw
Liberated and protected by prose
Uplifted by staccato rants
Seduced by mellifluous chants
We made it up, line at a time
We shared of each other
Gave what we had in syntax and rhyme
Those were some good nights, eh?
Just big kids at play - the outsiders, the rebels, the fray
My word
And yours
Something to listen to
Something to say
Things are different these days
Yeah, everything is different these days
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