A Symphony of Hearsay

“This might be the death of me.”

The blaring music dropped dead in my ears

Once I blinked at the flashing blue lights

In my rear view


I flashed back my rank and ID

Met with raised eye she already noted

The numberplate with a big green G

We stared at one another


In that instant when roadkill knows its fate

Somehow her temper swerved

Instead, what hit me then?

The full force of grace


Like the woman at the well

I longed to cry of my escape

One judgement abated

Not one came out to hear ye


Not only this, they turned against

As if a pack of lies

As if such a grief relieved

I did not deserve…

You would think someone had died.


Instead they sorely wished that I’d collided

With the oncoming headlight

And faced the hurt

The natural consequence…

As is fair and just and right


Like my obsession with the lotus pod

It eludes me yet possesses me

I long to stare at it and pick it

To its core, just a little more…


Staring at this fine watercolour

Of yachts moored in the sandy bay

The site of a murder suspect

The site of ideation


Fascinating to stare at the red bellied yacht

Moored in the washed out sea

Set against the blue smudged sky

Just one solitary yacht painted like blood


Standing at the same scene in ink

Between the sand in my toes

And the stars in the heavens

Lay a vast chasm I longed to cross…

To sink myself into the ink


The deep cold river beckoned me

To come forward to submit to it

I could not submit to the sea

Nor to what was behind me


Instead I turned aside and bellowed

At those heavens, the words that I dread

Why should I be forced to speak out?

To end the music in my head


Why not my dreams realised?

For the sake of prudence?

Propriety.. Sobriety?

“It was not meant to be”


The stars fell down to earth

The further I walked away from shore

They swung instead into the trees

As I reached my caller and dared…


To call it to an end, to let us off the hook

A great sense of satisfaction and elation

Crept upon me after having spoke

The words buried within my chest


So heavy like a riptide

Gutting out a blackhole

The feelings I would always feel for him



But for the deepest motherly care

As yet unseen in a mother of mere infants

A fierce protective bear could easily suffer

Exclusion, ridicule and isolation


I do not wish to bear witness

To the downfall of my heir

To our kingdom of a kind

As if it was mine to give?


It was surely not his to take away

I chose and would choose again

Love, life and pain

For the sake of a good name


I lived to hear again and again

the tunes that pick me to my core

Even if the sound excluded me

Ridiculed and eluded me, I swelled with



Like seeing the smallest freckled face boy

Play the most awkward part one could play

I would sit front and centre at attention

With the camera on record at his mere mention


The small town boy’s biggest home-town fan

The reviews weren’t all that – but jaded

Some confusion in the local rag

Such speculation as I’d never had


If father bear passed away

Would we be an item in another way?

Also something more about

Jumping on bones?


Evidently popularity has its pitfalls

Jack and Meg felt it too

But as sure as great self-satisfaction

Pushes us on like addicts searching

For the next dingy venue to dose up


This music emanating from the rabbit hole

Where I fell into surreality

Entranced by the sheer possibilities

The people united like brothers in arms


Dazed by the fuzzy logic that a glass

Of spirits give the chief cheerleader

Maternal overseer, I hung like a dull accessory

From the notes and words that emanated from him


From mere flesh, wood and steel

While I clumsily stroked my instrument

Nestled between my childbearing legs

Strangely pulling along dusty horse hair



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