I get by with a little help from my friends.
I've done it before and I'll do it again. Yes, that's right, I will use the art of others to inspire my own. Creativity begets creativity. Once again Mark Hall, music producer extraordinaire from across the pond, gave me a little writing boost with his track "And the Angels Fell". (You can listen to it here.) So, like the famous song says, "I get by with a little help from my friends". (For what it's worth, I like the Beatles version, but I LOVE the Joe Cocker version.)
Something about this particular track of his tugged at me. I was entranced right from the beginning, and then I could feel that slight knife-edge that slides right in. Beautiful disaster. You know the kind that hurts but you can't stop pushing it forward? Something about this track told me the story of a friendship that got twisted along the way. I can't tell if things worked out in the end, but I remain hopeful.
Okay, okay, okay. Enough rambling from me. Here's the poem:
Remorse Code
Look at you. smiling that smile. The slick one you have reserved for impressing people.
The one with no teeth and too much eye squint.
But with a turn of your head and change in mood, I see that damned dimple.
As if it were some secret code between us. (dimple, dimple, wink, nudge)
An unspoken apology for dismissing our friendship. It's going to take more than a dimple this time.
Something about this particular track of his tugged at me. I was entranced right from the beginning, and then I could feel that slight knife-edge that slides right in. Beautiful disaster. You know the kind that hurts but you can't stop pushing it forward? Something about this track told me the story of a friendship that got twisted along the way. I can't tell if things worked out in the end, but I remain hopeful.
Okay, okay, okay. Enough rambling from me. Here's the poem:
Remorse Code
Look at you. smiling that smile. The slick one you have reserved for impressing people.
The one with no teeth and too much eye squint.
But with a turn of your head and change in mood, I see that damned dimple.
As if it were some secret code between us. (dimple, dimple, wink, nudge)
An unspoken apology for dismissing our friendship. It's going to take more than a dimple this time.
Yeah. You fucked it up that bad.
You and me -- we have always fit like puzzle pieces.
You and them -- fit more like orange slices.
Some fits are better in action -- others are better in theory.
By now you should know that when I laugh, it’s not always because it was a good joke.
That “I’m sorry” does not always equal a good apology.
That “it’s okay” almost always means it isn't.
Friendships are hard. Doubly hard when you are hardly speaking.
Barely whispering. In fact, all I hear is radio silence.
(tap, tap, tap - - is this thing on?)
Things are different now that we've grown up.
The responsibilities, the other relationships, the distance, and the godforsaken busy.
We are different but more.
The same but less.
I am still a simple woman.
Simply complicated;
but lucky for you I am easily appeased.
You of all people should know how to do that.
The question is will you…
...and will I let you.
You and me -- we have always fit like puzzle pieces.
You and them -- fit more like orange slices.
Some fits are better in action -- others are better in theory.
By now you should know that when I laugh, it’s not always because it was a good joke.
That “I’m sorry” does not always equal a good apology.
That “it’s okay” almost always means it isn't.
Friendships are hard. Doubly hard when you are hardly speaking.
Barely whispering. In fact, all I hear is radio silence.
(tap, tap, tap - - is this thing on?)
Things are different now that we've grown up.
The responsibilities, the other relationships, the distance, and the godforsaken busy.
We are different but more.
The same but less.
I am still a simple woman.
Simply complicated;
but lucky for you I am easily appeased.
You of all people should know how to do that.
The question is will you…
...and will I let you.
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