Eyeronic's poem.

[eyeronic]

Divided Thoughts

I am listening to Miles Davis
smoothly creating the soundtrack to
"Ascensuer pour L'Eschafaud."
The album has all the takes,
even the ones that weren’t in the film.
His ruthless switch
from an apparently lighthearted series of notes
to a perfect
suffocating
wheeze
is so asphyxiating.

Hearing my grandparents reminisce
is like
looking at someone else's
vacation photos.
I nearly believe the reality of it,
but even with evidence,
I'll always have a buried suspicion
that their perception of the truth
is somehow as surreal as

afternoondreams.


I am listening to Miles Davis smoothly creating,
but hearing my grandparents reminisce.

The soundtrack to "Elevator to the Gallows"
is like looking at someone else's vacation photos.
I kind of believe the album has all the takes,
the reality of it,
even the ones that weren’t on the film,

but even with the evidence,
I'll always have a buried
suspicion

that his ruthless switch

from my perception of the truth,
an apparently lighthearted series of notes,
to a perfect suffocating wheeze
is somehow
as unreal as afternoon
dreams,
but still, so asphyxiating.

[Angel]

Wow!
Asphyxiating in your own right.
Pleasing work here.

[QuasiMojo]

Hey!
This is good stuff...I remember bcoming psychically attatched to
Miles' "Kind of Blue" one pre-dawn when the approaching day
was only a concept.

[little limey]

This is great. I like that you used poetry in this way. It is almost very direct and blunt, but then you relate listening to the music to your grandparents stories (unless I have read it wrong). Even though you say that they are divided thoughts, they have to be connected in some way and that makes this poem interesting.