Prompt for RWJ, Prompt 295

I imagine a poem being spoken sometimes. By anyone I fancy, like Bob Dylan for instance. Then it becomes like a song. It’s like the words going through someone’s vocals get communicated in a very personal way. Dylan had spoken in his Nobel speech about meaning. For Dylan a song doesn’t have to have a meaning, or he doesn’t need to know its meaning. How often have you read or listened to something, music especially, not knowing the meaning and yet it has such emotional power, fills you with some ineffable longing? I don’t think though if you’re a student of literature you can get away with not knowing the meaning of a work. You have to put your own meaning into it. You interpret it. That’s your work, as opposed to the work of the author. Sometimes I write a poem and I don’t even know its meaning. Yet I know it expresses something…ineffable. Think about writing in your poem.

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2 thoughts on “Prompt for RWJ, Prompt 295

  1. BOB DYLAN THOMAS

    Do not think twice because it’s alright,
    Sad eyed lady standing in the rain;
    Lay lady, lay in your blue gown at night.

    I’ve been gone far too long from your sight,
    Here with the Memphis blues again
    Do not think twice because it’s alright,

    I miss home, a hurricane still full of fight,
    Knock, knocking on heavens door, my friend,
    Lay lady, lay in your blue gown at night.

    Stuck inside of Mobile, far from sight,
    A hard rain’s gonna fall, Zimmerman!
    Do not think twice because it’s alright.

    Brave men, lovesick and blue, too uptight,
    find the right to love just like a woman,
    Lay lady, lay in your blue gown at night.

    Along the watchtower the question is right
    The answer is blowing in the wind
    Do not think twice because it’s alright,
    Lay lady, lay in your blue gown at night.

    © Walter J. Wojtanik

    Words of Bob Dylan written as Dylan Thomas’ “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”

  2. HOMESICK BLUES

    A hard rain’s gonna fall, and all I can think of
    is my sad eyed lady of the lowlands.
    A rainy day woman, she stands
    down in the flood watching
    the river flow. The current is strong
    and I’ve been gone far too long;
    bound with cold irons. I miss home.
    And if I gotta serve somebody, it may as well
    be her. I’d been stuck inside of Mobile
    with the Memphis blues again.
    I shall be released and I’ll be knocking
    on heaven’s door; her blue nightgown
    tangled at our feet. No longer love sick.
    Memories thick and windblown, she’s shown
    she can love just like a woman. Lay lady.
    Lay with the pent up passion of the
    hurricane within. Don’t have second thoughts.
    It’s alright. It’s a changing time and
    I have resurfaced; have a purpose.
    Your rolling stone has come home.

    (C) Walter J Wojtanik

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