Skip to main content

Poetry Sunday: Bohemian Urge

This Sunday's poem was written many years ago and inspired by the copious amounts of "French" music I was listening to in the early 2000's. Enjoy.

Bohemian Urge
by Scott Walldren

Oh to be a Bohemian and live the life of the street musician,
except for in the wintertime, of course, when my accordion would freeze
to the money-collecting monkey’s paw and he would have to be chopped free
from my shoulder by some kindly axe-wielding passerby.

And then of course, I’d have to buy a new accordion.
And a new monkey.
Hmm.

But how sweet it could be!
Sitting on a bench in the park or on the sill of a shop window,
playing outside with my heart’s joys and sorrows
for the occasional scrap of a dollar.

To above all be free from pretension and simply be,
to feel the note soar in my heart and fly out through my hands
as they squeeze the life out of the box.

And then there would be the policeman.
“Do you have a license to perform?” he would ask.
“Does one need a license to live and die?” I would reply.
“You know as well as I that street performers must obtain a license.”

But I’d have my accordion
and my monkey.

That’s all there really is to it, right?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Collecting Words with The Daily-ism: a Word-a-Day Microblog

Several months ago I began the practical application of my Master's degree in Liberal Studies through the creation of a Tumblr blog entitled, The Daily-ism . The blog seeks to provide an ism word a day with a definition gleaned from Google without commentary. To date, I have posted 86 entries and garnered 17 followers. What has been most interesting to me is seeing how people respond. The most popular posts so far have been: egalitarianism (20 notes) prescriptivism (7 notes) I've identified enough words for almost an entire year's worth of content if I post five times per week. One thing I like about the functionality of Tumblr is the ability to schedule posts out in advance. This means that I can essentially plan out a month's worth of content in an hour of spare time.  Not that I have a ton of spare time, but I've discovered that micro-blogging is much easier to accomplish while working full-time and being a father of three. A great resource for catal...

Yo ho, yo ho, a commuter's life for me

When I lived in the Chicago area, I would walk a mile to a train that would drop me 1 mile from my office. Such as it was, I was getting daily exercise and a mostly relaxing ride into work each day. Missing a train wasn't such a bad thing as the longest I'd ever have to wait for a train was 1 hour, and during peak times, about 20 minutes. I enjoyed unlimited commutes for about $120 per month. When I moved to Atlanta, I knew I would be driving. But I had no idea just how much. Out of strange curiosity in mid-January, I began keeping track of my mileage. My daily commute is about 36.9 miles each way. This translates into 90 minutes in the morning and about 75 minutes in the evening. Here's a table of my 2006 Hyundai Sonata's performance to date. For those keeping score, I am paying more to drive into work. Add in what I pay for parking, and it's close to double. There is a spectacular trade-off however. Back in Chicago, what I spend on my mortgage today got...

Poetry Sunday: Spring Blossom

Today's service at our church was about poetry. So, for the first time in many years I stood before a room full of people and nervously read the following poem that I wrote way back when. The things that can cause anxiety never really cease however our response to them can. That's what I think prompted me to write this. Spring Blossom by Scott Walldren After a while I will shed my skin and thank the powers for another time to be. Another time to live and grow, like a spring blossom. Brought into being by such a turbulent start, thunder, lightning, rain giving life. The great fear. Where does it all end and I begin? And then there becomes that particular quiet, the distant final rattle of thunder over the horizon and the haze begins to clear. I will now finally be able to meet the sun. Only then can I say that "I am" again. But sometimes old snakeskin dreams lay all around me and I choke on the dander of a different day. Great fear returns. My...