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Thirty​-​Nine Significant Songs :: An Antidote To Despair

by Christopher Sanderson

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1.
Flames of letters burning She picks remnants, from the ashes Stylus, on the record-player slowly turning His hands held out As an invitation to dance Piano lid, suggestively opened Might I play you something he once said As he stared out, way beyond the distance We never talk of love in this house We never ever talk of love I only met my husband twice Before we were married Now I read, that he was unfaithful He fathered a child, by another woman Told to me, within these barren letters From those who I have come to loathe
2.
Flower Duet 00:56
All of those years At the opera In the music collection Even selected for the funeral service Played In every room in this house Yet, only yesterday Translated into English Such that you could be by the river bank Such that you could be holding hands Such that you too Could be there together Going on forever Going on, and on, forever Hitting the high notes graciously Not dwelling too long on the low notes
3.
Skimming pebbles on the ocean Sipping cocktails on the boardwalk Twisting worry beads through the fingers Keeping death another world away Reading papers in the sunlight Buying the NME for the music charts Who is that soulful singer Whose words sweetly, succinctly, let us sway That Saturday afternoon In the closing down sale electric shop Light Blue Stax and Red Atlantic records Forty-fives for the less than twenty-fives I bought them and I played them I kept them for more than many a day Light Blue Stax and Red Atlantic records They set me up, as the man who went astray
4.
Yes, yes, you were somewhat special Yes you did predict it would be number one Before anyone else took any notice No need to understand the lyrics, or their meaning For you it is emotion, and grace which come first And that song, yes that song It hit you right there in your solar-plexus With its layers of grace, grace and emotion Since then you have looked into the light Still without worry of the meaning You are here and you are with us No longer the whiter shade of pale No longer the doubter of doubts You are here and you are with us No longer the spiller of tears Yes, yes, you are somewhat special
5.
I love you I love you I love you I love you I don’t want to say too much more No... No... No, I don’t want to say too much more And if you don’t come home I will try to comprehend And if you do come home I will try to make amends I loved you I loved you I loved you I love you
6.
Less of a story More your interior exposure Yet still about the closure Of a life taken too soon, a life taken too soon Not yet in heaven Or in the overcast grey skies Not counting to seven Nor riding on the fairground rides Play it again Sam Think once more of Cypress Avenue Those notes of sweet perfumes Tunes that drift on by On those days of happenstance Where fate alone could take its chance Of those days on which to say goodbye Wondering why you had to die
7.
I forget Did you forget too I forget the film With a cover version of his song And don’t they say That to cover is to compliment And to make it the films leading song Boy o boy that’s quite some praise Which is why I placed the Rothko On the fifth wall Which is why I placed the Rothko On the bedroom wall Which is why I now place the Rothko On the lounge wall Where finally, the light Is exactly what I am looking for
8.
Your introduction to the blues Your first foray Into the addictions of gin Your first steps From the bus stop Back into the house-party Disentangled By her looseness Turning You the one of so few words You the one Of so so little grace You the one Almost entirely without compassion You the one For fight read flight
9.
Another Christmas Eve Saturday night break-up Another time with nowhere to go Or rather No one now to go out with No swirling starlights No girls eyeing up the boys No boys Becoming excited between the thighs Sat alone in the darkness The indefatigable darkness Lined as with lining paper All around the lost soul No moons, no crescents No presents of rich perfume No missions, no roasting chestnuts All a sense, of deserting the lover’s last role
10.
Albatross 01:06
The young, innocent, sixteen year old Stood in awe, in front of A full size replica, of a 1930’s American automobile Hung, as it was, from the students union ceiling The main decoration For the Molls & Gangsters Christmas ball With live music Courtesy of Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac Those steps to the balcony Are now steps in the multi-storey car park Which go down to the ring road Across which was the Technical College Where the young sixteen year old Studied Electrical Engineering Yet desperately wanted to be in Art College Making sculptures out of papier-mâché
11.
Two churches With a two-sided seat A bicycle ride in April To remember the features All that birdsong All that mown grass Time for shear contemplation Thoughts way out over the reaches Young girls, and young boys On their own, here in the country No fears of the city Just you and me, beside the beeches Yet you in spirit only No need here for recriminations Not for we For we are plain speaking creatures
12.
High summer, in the middle of springtime Warmth, light, daytimes for leisure Steam trains, caravans Ice cream parlours and window shopping Yes there is a racecourse And a dozen or more fishing lakes But it is expensive parking To look down from the top of Sutton Bank To see a faraway panoramic horizon To see a sky turn into more than white Here and now then, to set the controls For the heart of the sun To venture where no one has before To venture where no one can again To turn on the turntables of immensity Towards the heart of the son
13.
This time I will almost make it This time I will feel for sure All alone now, no more to fake it For you loneliness is my cure This time I will delve deeper This time I will engage the pure All alone now, no more the keeper For you emptiness I will endure And why wouldn’t one repeat it Again, and again, and again Why wouldn’t one seek to keep it The stain, the stain, the stain Yes, why, yes, why not why To carry your rose beside you Yes, why not cry, and cry, and cry For the English Rose which you coloured blue
14.
We posted our letters We made our feelings known We cursed and cursed our betters For the winds of change had blown We made our notes in the margins Explaining why what was shown was shown We explored the slopes of those margins To see why what had grown had grown I read again the letters This time to search between the lines I cursed again our bastard betters And asked politely if I could pay the fines We spooked ourselves more or less forever With the essence of the myth We saw the light, but we were way less clever On the B roads to herewith
15.
Way before Wichita Lineman We thought the juke-box was ours Way before Desert Island Disks We thought the juke-box was ours Swaying on the soddened sticky carpets Strumming away, on our favourite air guitars Playing fast, to impress the young girls Straying past, for all and sundry to see He moved on, she moved on They moved on, we moved on Two nights running we saw them Two nights Sleeping on the air vents Outside the two cities railway stations Two nights Screaming out; it’s a Whole Lotta Love
16.
Oliver Reed, being mischievous On the aeroplane back from the court Mona Lisa, smiling On the way to the jurisdiction Drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes In the Place de la République Sat in the sun, on the steps Of the Musée du Louvre Later, you, with your esteemed translator Stood in front of the judge, who said ‘We don’t allow you to walk away We don’t want you to walk away’ Yet your smile soon disarmed him Your infectious enthusiasm Won them all over That was, until the day, when you walked away
17.
Youth clubs And teenage disappointments Playing at being the DJ Wearing tight, sky-blue jeans You thought she smiled at you You thought she said hello Her friend said my friend wants to go out with you What might you now need to know Conversation was not a problem Until the two of you were left alone Dancing in a group came easy Her style being to quite command the zone But then came the night of the all-nighter Together in joined up sleeping bags The fondling, and the pretend sleeping Before your hopes began to flag
18.
High waist Lime-green satin trousers Skin tight to the thighs Intense bell bottoms To cover the Cuban heels A dyed red safari jacket With sleeve ends Of deepest-purple calf leather West-Coast American bands Grateful Dead and the like Not ideally suited To the English downpours Not ideally suited To the English tastes in music Rather we preferred The Who And José Feliciano
19.
I have been there Didn’t I just go on and on About Monet’s painting In the Museum Of Modern Art The hairs on my neck bristling From quite a distance away Before hiding my head in the footwell As we drove through the Bronx Also The abject change of lifestyle Across the traffic lights Of Fifth Avenue O and don’t let me forget That bookshop in Santa Monica Where I bought Calvino’s Invisible Cities Along with postcards to write and post
20.
With each turn I turn away With each turn away I return ever stronger What I learn I choose to say I learn to choose to say Stay a few moments longer With each loss I lose a little more I lose loss that little more Each day to become stronger What I gloss over Is the determination to move on I gloss that move on over That way I am alive a little longer
21.
Tonight it is standing room only Leaning on each other Leaning into each other Leaning and singing to each other Joining in with the young people Joining in with the band Everyone tonight is happy Happy, or else be damned The doors open Crowds tumble out Into the night air Onto the night-time streets Past the down and outs Bedding down beside the canal Past the drunks, and the druggies On the way to they know not where
22.
The players are due out soon Crowds of fans wait in anticipation Hairs rising on the backs of their necks Smiles foraging about in the sunlight Another Sheffield Wednesday Saturday Another day among friends on the Kop And aren’t we classy, to play Nessum Dorma Before we sing along to Hi-Ho Silver Lining Six plays of the new downloaded playlist later Jeff Beck’s music is lucidly infused within me I was close to tears, watching and hearing Rod Stewart, Eric Clapton, and Jan Hammer Talk so lovingly, even, yes, adoringly about him This was the peer to peer adulation we all crave You will have been there, maybe with Elvis Costello Or The Artic Monkeys, but you will have been there
23.
On the unadopted road With four pairs Of 1930’s semi-detached houses With open fields To the front, and to the sides Where, on the night of the party Friends congregated, including Teenagers seeking to lose their virginity The policeman asked: Is that King Crimson I can hear The prog-rockers, in their glitter said yes The folkies, with their acoustic guitars, said yes The soul dudes, in their mohair suits said yes The hippy hippy shake shakers loosely said yes The LSD boys said yes, or at least imagined they did And I said: yes, yes it is officer; do you like it?
24.
Without your identity where are you Without your intention where are you Without your light where am I Where then might our catchment content be Born into the valley Given to the clay, given to the water Thus to call out, over the oceans Thus to climb, to the top of the hills Without sight how might I see you near me Without sound how might I round you up Without scent how might your aroma fill me Where then might our essence ever dwell Scattered to the four winds Gifted to the previous attachments Is it ever to parade itself majestically Thus to bounce lightly, on and into the night
25.
I spoke of the truth Yet so so few did receive me I crossed out the lies Which tried so so hard to deceive me I sang the song that I saw And o, o how time raced along I was you see as before And o, o how the passions raged among Yet guilt was always close on by As those cold; no, no words surfaced I never was so, so unwise With absolutely no, no certainty of purpose Today it is the Cherry Blossom Blowing low, low in the breeze The equanimity of you, you my possum Whose low, low esteem I had to leave
26.
I scathe at the indifference Beside myself with rage I crawl with stiff resistance To forge words onto the page The lathe of love once turned I remember, to this very day Those hot-ache cokes that burned To fire the kilns of clay Hide away then the inference There’s more which I wish to claim In this league of subsistence The desire is mine to aim So my dear, once more to flower Before the time to go on stage I write for the coliseum’s power Of that pastoral, present age
27.
Hide away your Lazarus Your hopes of slight refrain Cover up your own ambition With thoughts of nought, nought to gain Obscure them with the obscurity That certainty of knowing how to stain Become purer, purer with such a surety From the flowing, the flowing of the grain Don’t you go steal the highlights On the darkness of the turn Rather, be hidden by the street fights The starkness through which we learn Move onwards, endways to your ending Satisfied, with your rustle in the bushes Rather than it be the opening night After the final cutting of the rushes
28.
No one is here now No one at all to disarm The seas they are clear now And soon, soon there will be calm But first a raucous adventure Some way beyond the gales A theatre for rolling and rocking And for ably going off the rails No one was there though No one to hold, nor to charm The tide turned ever so slow As lips without the curing balm But yes, there was a naughtiness In so deep; it was a new way to fail The novelty of such intense haughtiness For a time it matured, but then too went stale
29.
And so then now why wouldn’t you Make your own cover version Nothing of you; hidden, nor given away By you singing someone else’s song Not by the words that is But boy o boy What heart-wrenching longing What tearful, soul-suspended despair For you, your minor key was anything but Heavy with the blanket of a lover’s ache Heavier with the futility of a lover’s loss Yes, you took yourself to anywhere but Into those rooms where fools and devils roam Into those spaces for the almost silent Except, yes except you heard your own cry A cry which carried itself into the vast deafness
30.
Seriously pink sand Are we going anywhere Let me take you by the hand Let me meet you there Single golden band Are we tied to anything Some words are rather grand They say so so many things Roll back As waves, as surfs surf Add to the stack With love not mirth Turn over As once, so once more In the clover Has kept, always, in the store
31.
500 Miles 01:03
You slide about On packed white snow I walk into town In search of toothpaste, and slippers You post a streaming video So that your friends and folks might know I on the other hand Remain mute about listening to The Hunter Once more, as before You bag another Scottish Munro Whilst for our tea, on Thursdays We have milk-boiled kippers You sang, in abundant joy At the Portuguese karaoke show Albeit against a disapproving face As black as abject thunder
32.
Soft submissive sands There to place hands Softly upon your navel Warm instilling thoughts That we ought, didn’t we We ought to go a little further Further into the deep of night Further to the hopes of our saviour Tender is the skin The skin which so so calmly says Pray, won’t you please come on in Enter; enter slowly, and fondle Feel the storms begin to rise With those wanton wish-fulfilling sighs Yes, yes we should, yes we should be sated Be together, sated together, as now, as later
33.
Let It Be 01:26
Sedum Palustre, Sedum Rotundifolium Serums of ecstasies Serums of saints and sinners Sedums of successful procreation Latin first, and Latin last Latin for lover’s communication Lothario with his poems of pasts Latin to the point of fornication Let it be, let it be The chosen words where it was ok Let me see, let me see The chosen words were encouraging Yet not to be said again No, no more those words to be spoken Neither on the pillows, nor the bed Words of sex so even-handedly unopened
34.
Would you like to come into my bed Isn’t that what you always wanted Please, pick yourself from my floor For that, you see, is what I always wanted From first sight, to longer view I said to myself; yes, why o yes From breaking light to morning dew I thought to myself; why, o how blessed To slip together so easily To lay there free and swell Abroad on your breasts so eagerly Such had the fires of fate to sell In and out, and to and fro Our words no more than gasps Up and down, and back and forth O how those lips of lust we clasped
35.
We spoke of Raglan Road, and Grafton Street Indeed a few years ago you and I walked From the former, to the latter, on our way To the Gresham Hotel down O’Connell Street Where the men of the cloth wined and dined Of course we looked into the cloisters Of Trinity College, where many years before I had begun to lose and to find myself Found by talking with Professor PJ O’Reilly Who asked if he may join me for dinner Found by buying, and then reading Jonathan Livingston Seagull In the airport departure lounge Where also I spotted the brothers and the sisters of the faith Priests resplendent in velvet robes, and crocodile skin shoes With nuns carrying their personalised Versace leather handbags
36.
Where did I find you, how did I find you What did you mean to me, such that Such that I should happily include you Include you in my permanent collection And now that you are, so to speak, resident I can tell my close friends all about you About your background, your provenance Your origins, and your exceptional raison d'être Giving up on beautiful, and giving up on pain Where did I find you, how did I find you What on earth did you mean to me What on earth did you see in me Sunshine and rain, plain your wish to be with me To rearrange, to realign the previous proposal stain Beside the Machair, on those wind blown beaches To redistribute, to reaffirm our closest, furthest reaches
37.
A train, to an aeroplane, to another train A taxi, to a door, to another door A lift, to an upper floor To a waiting room Where relatives sat in silence Where relatives sat in tears You entered yet another room Only for you, only for you now Bright blue Atlantic surf Signature light of St Ives No time for clothes to be discarded Time having hardly been on your side A step, a stride, a leap or dive Swimming, smiling, laughing The letters would say thank you The actions would say love
38.
Imagine 01:12
In the blink of an eye In the closure of a door In that last moment of why In that step out onto the dance floor In that walking together Of an April afternoon In that sunlit fair-weather To spill a cup and a spoon The blossom is full As you prepare to say au revoir The crystals colour the skull As my words say mon amour ce soir Afterwards, I try, piece by piece To build the memory of this day To listen, to learn, and to seize On the all of the how, of how and why I played
39.
This could be the last time Maybe I don’t know This short path to the last line Perhaps Fast-fast-fast; slow-slow-slow Mick Jagger’s swagger and Keith Richard’s licks Exciting the young girls, and the young boys On their holy-communion day tricks This could be the last time Maybe I don’t know Perhaps Today, today, today; tomorrow Alex’s poise, the Arctic Monkeys latest kicks This sure could turn out to be the last line

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Not a covers album but a series of poems, reflecting the poet's experiences which these significant songs led him towards; love, lust, joy and angst all find their measure.

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released June 17, 2018

Titles are all Song Titles credited to the original writers. Poems are all by Christopher Sanderson.

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Christopher Sanderson England, UK

Christopher is a poet, a writer, a meditation teacher and a creative writing workshop facilitator; a catalogue of most of his work can be found at poetryshop.co.uk, a short summary of the past few years of his life can be found at coastmoor.co.uk

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