picking up
the scattered pieces;
drowning my down - ness
with sounds
of loudness;
for me
it is the
life giving
beat - full, beautiful
sounds of the
Beat-full Beatles.
the voices varied
singing words sensitive
making sounds percussive
persuasive
lifting me high,
just what
this woman needs
this evening.
what the doctor ordered
didn't hit the spot
nor multifarious zones
of mis-pleasure
So I beckoned the Beatles
and CD player at the ready,
ready steady sing
I am picking up.
the scattered pieces
drowning my down-ness
with the sounds of loud-ness
wiping away the tears
of sadness and frustration
Another chapter
in withdrawl
another crawl
till I can stand
upright again.
play it again,
Fab Four.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem