In some rare occasions, a song strikes my ear in an amazing way, and makes me listen to it’s every instrument, chord, and lyric with such rapture that my imagination explodes and creates an instant animated music video in my head. Recently, one of these visions even lent itself to become a poem.
In my scramble to write down the words that came to me, I opened a web page and started writing. I got it all typed down and I copied it to my clipboard but somehow between opening a new document to save it and closing the web page, I lost it. And to my dismay, there is no clipboard history (there really should be) so it was completely gone.
Now, thanks to modern technology I was able to buy the song from iTunes via my iPod Touch and listen to it on repeat while writing what I remembered of the poem on paper this time. I also ended up skipping my boring science class to do this. Well worth it I think. Later, I went back and did my usual editing process with about three different revisions which brought it to where it is now.
Click the link to listen to the song that inspired this all while you read the poem.
Welcome Home, Son by Radical Face
Lovers and a Pretty Song
When you hear a pretty song,
it’s like getting an unexpected hug from behind
by an unexpected lover.
You look up and smile at their face
and you see yourself, brighter than before.
They smile back and you feel warmer,
as you forget your fears from yesterday.
“Welcome home,” they whisper.
And there’s a new smile on your face
as you examine your radical feelings inside.
And the choir remains singing,
as the invisible lover leaves your back,
leaving you with their breath on your neck
and their imaginary scent,
drifting from memory.
When you hear that pretty song,
it’s like getting an unexpected hug from behind
by an invisible lover.
You look up and smile at the cloudy sky
and see your day, brighter than before.
The sun smiles back and you feel warm
as you forget the fears from yesterday.
“Welcome home,” the wind seems to whisper.
And there’s a smile on your face
as you look at the radical new colors in your world.
And the choir remains to sing
as the invisible lover leaves your back,
leaving you with the breeze on your neck
and the effervescent scent of summer,
drifting away.