A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the year following, from August 2024 to August 2025.(provided I live that long, of course).
Thank you, Allan Charles~HappyBirthdayWdC. I've contested the Charlie Chaplin thing a couple of times, won once, if I remember correctly. But it's the kind of thing I try when bored and have nothing better to do - just doesn't seem to have happened lately.
Random blasts of the synapses
not physical like Cocker’s
but the brain firing the body
with jerky impulse reaction
the music alive in transmission
one with the meaningless word
and David Byrne reinventing
dance as immersion in sound.
Talking Heads robotic
obfuscation as art form
they plough their ragged field
and Byrne their scarecrow
striding the otherworld
in song and dance somehow divine.
Line count: 14
Free verse
For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 50
Prompt: Dance.
Note: Yes, this was written as a response to Ned’s poem on Joe Cocker. When nothing has occurred to me for a week, an immediate thought on hearing her idea was a straw to be grasped. David Byrne is surely Joe Cocker after intellectual processing.
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