Fragments of yesterday lie
Scattered in the afternoon heat,
Old rockers gazing wistfully at
Careless girls in ripped shorts -
Tattooed, stardust pixies who
Were barely a glint in the eye
On a summer's night when
This circus last rolled into town.
We have a new temple this time,
Its altar boys wary of bombs
In this raucous celebration
Of innocent rage,
And, in these vape-draped days,
Long gone the easy slope
Of grizzled stoners,
Holding court like prophets,
Recounting the legendary gigs
Of the golden years,
Those ancient times when
Our idols drank and fucked and
Shot themselves to shit and
Still played like Gods under
Star-soaked skies.
Too easy to get misty-eyed,
We laugh, thinking on things
that could have been
That never were,
Childhood memories,
When the lights we waved
Burned and hurt and stank,
Not blazing with sterile beauty,
And I wonder for a moment
If I might still hold you
And pray for the thunder and
The rain to quietly pass us by.
But then it comes,
The past to the present,
A glorious fuck-riot of
Forever young and dreaming,
A couldn't-give-a-shit twist
Of youthful slender limbs and
Greying, beer-spilling nostalgics,
And then suddenly, brilliantly,
For just a perfect while,
Everything is possible.
17th June 2017
Written on seeing Guns N' Roses, 26 years after the last time.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments And Reflections
PoetryPoems looking at everything and anything not in my other collections. Here you'll find life and time, wild oceans and lonely coast paths, busy streets and empty hotel rooms, wild concerts and late night writing. All just fragments and reflections, l...
