Ready, Steady, Revolution

Earth-orbits-the-sun

(source)

When the revolution comes

will you be ready

Hearts afire

flames upon your head

Spirit of your youth

still dwelling in there

Nothing gone or lost

till six feet dead

When the new year comes

will you be ready

Another day

as all new days once more

Earth around the sun

we’re still in orbit

Hanging in there

better than before

Stronger for the effort

and the trying

Smarter

for experience we’ve gained

More empathetic

by the hearts sore tested

Healers to each other

in our pain

When the day begins again

each new one

The revolution

one more spin around

Will you be ready

are you prepared, still willing

Bring it on

we’re still above the ground!

Written for today’s Senior Salon #4. Don’t know how I feel about qualifying for that! I suppose coming up on 55 counts. But still raring to go. Come the revolution – every one of them. 😉

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Second Revolution

Record Spinning on Turn Table

(Play It Again AM)

– the record is not broken –

– though rift in operation –

– jumps along –

– every groove –

– its own peculiar nuance –

– deny –

– to disbelievers –

– it was ever –

– just a piece of plastic –

– he sang my song –

– self-effacing –

– to newer models –

– deemed superior –

– to me ’twas special –

– he played my dreams –

– in words and rhythm –

– found my soulful heart –

– the record is not broken –

– though he’s quiet –

– residing on some shelf –

– time turns the tables –

– i play his tunes –

– sadly –

– nowadays –

– i play them for myself –

It appears I cannot resist the rhyme even after the free.

The Revolution

Record Spinning on Turn Table

Record Spinning On Turntable )

pincered digits

pivot arm

thread needle

gingerly, my

sleeveless apology

cringing

at crackles

careless handling

i was the revolution

i intone

among the glory notes

i was the revolution

now disdained

to silver’d discs

apoplectic pods

that overflow

overburdened

streaming

quantity

content you forget

you dust me down

appreciate the memories

and return me to my shelf

where we, the others,

whisper technology

and await

new revolution

it always comes around