Blues, Deep And Bad Poem by STANLEY PACION

BLUES,
Deep and Bad


I got the blues, tonight, honey.
I got the blues, deep and bad.
You're not here and soon I leave,
I go abroad for a long, long stay.
I doubt we see each other ever again.

I sit at the end of the bed.
The bedroom couch is gone,
Much of the art is removed and sold.
The furniture arrangement, I must report,
No longer resembles anything you once knew.
The whole apartment looks different,
Not at all the same, nothing is the same,
Since you dwelled and laughed with me here.

Vivid recollections, your loveliness,
I need not close my eyes,
I picture you as you stand in your white hotel slippers,
And wash grapes under the faucet in the kitchen sink.

And my loving you, it frequently comes to mind.
That we had fallen and broken apart,
No words reach the depth of my regret.

Listen to the music coming over the TV.
Oh, sweet momma, daddy,
He has caught a wicked case of the blues.

Horns worry a lower pitch, run semitone in a six note scale.
The drum loops hit my entire bodily frame,
And when I fall, drop within myself, my soul clamors,
"A middle note is missing".
My heart's down, the shuffle strokes are down,
The rhythm accompanies the lyrics, all of it is down.
How did it all go wrong?

How did it all go wrong?

I doubt we see each other ever again.
I go abroad for a long, long stay.

I got the blues, tonight, honey.
I got the blues deep and bad.