Reprise

[David Bradsher]

September in '01--I ventured with
some friends to see the boys from Aerosmith.
Whitfield and Perry stroked low-slung guitars
as Tyler bayed beneath the pulsing stars,
and we surrendered thoughts of mundane duties
amid the Metal-heads and leather beauties.

Her name was Joyce, a friend of friends, and she,
that night, personified the fantasy
of denim-wearing vixen, shaped for sin
with all the trimmings and the curves that men
would call a perfect build. They'd rudely point
her out to pals, make catcalls, roll a joint,

and leer unmercifully through pungent smoke
that, like a ghost, accompanied each toke.
Joyce was oblivious to their attempts
at getting her to cast a sultry glimpse
their way; she was immersed within a tune
mourning a love that slipped away too soon.

In that soft moment, she exposed a side
of her I hadn't seen (and hadn't tried),
and something stirred in me like swirling dust
resuscitated by a timely gust
of Spring in rooms abandoned far too long,
now open to the clearing breeze of song.

I felt the past return with snatches of
the memories from seasons chasing love
in junior high with girls a lot like Joyce,
and me with the uncertain, cracking voice
of puberty’s approach. The music was
my spirit (with an amplifier’s buzz),

and what I’d lost for years was somehow found
in that unlikely place—the sloping ground
of an outdoor arena, tightly-packed
to see a classic band who’d still attract
a sold-out crowd that screamed the lyrics out.
I hear those words today, and think about

what could have been if I’d just made a move.
I guess I thought that Joyce might not approve
and, truth be known, my insecurities
are such that I get close and somehow freeze
before success or failure can prevail.
I take that back, though; I was doomed to fail

because inaction was my choice, and I
couldn’t succeed if I refused to try,
so I sat back and vainly sang along
to each remembered (and forgotten) song,
reminded of a youth that shoulders blame
for why my own sad song remains the same.

[LynnDakota]

Aerosmith!!! Oh now I am jealous!!! Loved the reminincing! I think we all go through the "woulda, shoulda, coulda's. This was an entertaining read, thanks for sharing it!! Much enjoyed! Lynn

[heinzs]

Excellent, David. Thank you for sharing it with us.

H.

[shawn2005]

outstanding write. this isn't something i can relate
to. i am the type of person, i would have told the girl
in the story i liked her (unless i knew it was unrealistic).
if you click with a person you have to tell them
but if you are just pysicaly attracted to them "
i think they are hot and want to just take them home"
you're wasting time harboring on that kind of missed oprotunity.
i am guilty of inaction in other
areas of life, and it is a wake up call to those in general.
nothing worse than looking back and seeing the things
you should have done. getting turned down, or failing at something
is far easier than never asking, or trying.

[Debbie]

beautiful reminincent poem...thank you for sharing..

[heinzs]

[David Bradsher]

Thanks, Heinz. You're taking me back with the couple of bumps you've given some of my work.

[bags123]

Masterful work my friend. I stand in awe of your poetic pontifications.

[David Bradsher]

And I of yours, bags. Thank you, my friend.

David

[heinzs]

[OriOnpheOnix]

it would seem these words are like thoughts in the form of weeping guitar solos, somehow. this being merely idea. and the piece is actually only, something like this. the heights of the instrument which innovates.

my eyes bleed leaving stains at some of the sights seen.