I was in the One Tun Public House in Goodge Street London when the Beatle Song "Norwegian Wood" was written; well the words at least. At the time I thought it was a piece of fun. Now I wonder what it was really about.I am still not sure that I will ever know.
*
Norwegian Wood?
Memories burn bitter.
Black ash scuffed in the bedside grate.
Sheets grabbed and thrown.
The chair smashed.
"You Even Took The Radio You Bastard!"
Silence is icy on Sundays.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
14th. September 2012.
Friday, 14 September 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Flicking through pages on my mobile phone I study photos of the summer just gone - Birthday flowers placed in a vase by the ...
-
Silver white and black images on the screen. We translate them back into the reality that memory proposes Transforming the silver into sever...
-
Buying incense by moonlight - The swiftly jostling crowds are all strangers. I walk slowly through the mob Eyes tracking my footsteps becaus...
No comments:
Post a Comment