So styled, self-styled, but never a rapper really. A misnomer. He would mostly sing along to a guitar. A smidge of Will.I.Am, a bit of Blues and something of Bill Haley now and then. That night, the night in question, night of nights, night never to be forgotten, the night of his favourite gig - the function room of The Whistling Pig, with every one of his small cult following singing along to their favourite song of love, it hit him like a blinding light, smack between the eyeballs - afterwards I had to wonder: was it he said eye or was it I? (Oh my, what memory does to us poor geniusses!) So there he was, singing to the faithful how love had hit him right between the eyeballs. Maybe it was only stage lights... but whatever in the world it was, it struck and stuck: If energy and matter are two sides of the same coin - are one ghost wearing either of two coats, are interchangeable - as Einstein said - and if the force of gravity, multiplied a million times in a black hole can stop time dead in its accustomed tracks, then maybe that's because what we call gravity is but the negative of what we know as time... And being hit resoundingly like this, he had no choice: he had to sing it to the world, and sing it as it came. He ploughed straight on without a break: Oh love was sweet and love was kind, but love grew cold and cruel as hell, some unknown force had cancelled all that had been warm and beautiful and time itself was petrified and all we loved was crucified and crushed by wanton gravity. He had no math. None of what you might call, education. No way of proving what he knew, what he'd been given. Would song, his song, would art convince a sceptic world? The music had no formulae, the lyrics had no numbers, his passion had no love, his love no passion any more. Just a man with a song that no one understood. A lost love, a lost voice crying in the wilderness a lost insight. The world had lost what should have been the next big thing.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...
Saturday, 29 September 2012
Zapper the Rapper
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Genius! Love it!
Are we all smacked between the eyeballs at times, see the hidden, the (until then) unobserved, the unfathomable with such relavation, such clarity, that for that brief moment we understand all?
I sometimes have eureka moments...then my great thoughts are consigned to the 'forgotton' drawer in my memory banks...perhaps we should all rap?
Hi Mr Dave,lovely poetry like it.
A Rapper of a Zapper! He did Bill Haley too? There must have been a lot of rocking! There was a lot going for him. The ending seems to be on a sad note,Dave! A pity!
oh man...i wonder how many next big things we have lost because they did not get the break or because they just did not think they had it in them to pull off? interesting man...and real...
Well, now that gives food for thought - time and gravity locked in battle?
happy birthday to you
happy birthday to you
happy birthday dave!!!!!
happy birthday to youuuuuuuu
see even my typing singing is not that great....ha.....hope you have an awesome day man....
One wonders sometime how often important ideas come to simple ordinary people who have no real way of getting them known. One wonders how many next big things are lost.
P.S. Happy birthday to you!!!
Zapper the rapper. LOL Love the name
Sad though, that he had such knowledge of things and yet, wasn't educated enough to be aware that he was so wise.
This is deep and yet appears superficial on the first read.
Great writing and, a belated (hope it was) very Happy Birthday Dave!
Happy birthday, Dave!(I know it thanks to others' comments)
I cannot exactly figure out "smack between eyeballs)...
He lost love and it's metaphor about it? The empty voice is poignant...
Dave, that is one powerful poem. Beautifully lyrical and deep. Loved it :-)
transcendent moment that lives in your imagination. . . .
Aloha from Honolulu,
> < } } ( ° >
Another winner with the stage set so well. I can almost hear the floorboards creak in the function room.
Wouldn't that be great: a whole new world of rappers! I think I'd go for that. Thanks for.
Thanks very much.
Sad, but of the way of the world, I think. Rock on!
Yes, that was meant to be the true point. It's something that has always haunted my thoughts. Thanks for picking it up - and thanks for the song. Hope your lad had a great day. I did.
Or peacefully co-existing - as long as you're not in a black hole!
Yes, that's it, isn't it? How few have made it and how many haven't.
Thank you for this - and an especial thanks for your good wishes. Yes, it was a V. good day!
"smack between the eyeballs" is a phrase - an astounding revelation that upsets your equilibrium.
Thanks v much for the good wishes.
Hi. Welcome to the blog. Really good to have your comments. Thank you for them. Glad you liked the poem.
Ah yes, but these days only until the next transcendent moment!!!!
I keep meaning to get them floorboards looked at! Thanks.
Felt like I was in wonderland. And Alice is much brighter than I.
I loved the child's game as a metaphor for this -- very fun & puzzling.
BTW: "home to denizens" --> Isn't that a truism? What lives in a home, is 'denizens'.
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