Poetry by Pip Wilson

Page 8

All poems Copyright © 2001-now, Pip Wilson, Wilson’s Almanac

 

 

 

Plagiarism is the sincerest form of theft

(Tune: Visions of Johanna by Bob Dylan)

 

Nursie's trying to be in Saturday while the dentist he's slipping with his mouth tool
I watch the ventilator and declare I'll never go back to my old school.
But I sit here seeming all the while dissolving old and inventing new rules.
Out the window the storm can be seen
on the treetops amber movies are screened
the black of the clouds favours green
if it hails we will hear children scream

or maybe write a song about this time
and a thought that has vanished
from a disappeared mind.

 

If I can dare to strip you down of a little concrete that doesn't make you feel well
you can dare to see me daring to be bare in front of everybody's detail
and I don't have to be ashamed to strip myself into Bobby's mind or to strip his mind into myself.
Because even when the dentist whines a lament
and the storm's at the monastery's gate
he still whispers songs like a dove to a saint
even though neither of us I'm sure knows what to repent

but that could be the reason, that we're both torn from past days
and a thought that has vanished
takes a lot to repay.

                       

You can try to build on nothing to catch up with the kings of the movies,
they have tried, they have succeeded, they have left us drowning in their beauty.
But I swear on their anthologies they had a lot of breakfast duties in between their cuties.
If you wonder why I steal from his verse
it's not stealing, it's a kind of a curse
if I'm just a borrowed tonsil to a nurse
surely to be a borrowed teacher is no worse.

I guess I've been taking lessons since we met
and 'cause thoughts often vanish
he will be around a while yet.

 

 

 

 

 

Dylan globe courtesy of the very talented and friendly
Mary at http://www.eyecandee.com

 

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