Poems for (from?) Pierre

I took my notebook to the concert and ended up scribbling these down during the show.

———–

Confined to six strings
An aged man
Finds joy in a long encounter
with occasional glances to a woman outside

———–

The magic of a live performance:
If it sounded exactly as in the studio,
then what a failure!

———–

The image of youth
Still present in the veins
and stretch of the neck.
Like a child stretching forth
to bite a juicy apple from a branch
he may not reach.
Reaching forward to sing forth Romance,
Like it might walk through the door if you said the right words.

———–

There’s nothing new under the sun.
So mine the old, where the diamonds have been growing
for more generations than could come
from a thousand summer wedding nights.

———–

Who is the innovator? The one who does it first. What is it? Not some undreamed novelty, but what nearly everyone was thinking all along but could never get past their lips or out to their fingertips.

———–

Love songs give lip service to love. Scholars give lip service to love songs but would understand more if they would open their mouths, close their eyes, and repeat after me:

Oh ma mignonne y venez vous ?