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45 RPM

Wilfredo Derequito Avatar  Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled 45 RPM which was written by poet Wilfredo Derequito. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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45 RPM

45 rpm tossed aside
spinning again no more,
old, unwanted turntable
cruelly cast out of a door;

in the attic kept away
gathering dust silently,
not unlike a transient life
to the end pointing surely;

music fading, we following,
fleeting like a crazy dream,
meaningless and forgotten,
no better than a 45 rpm.

Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito

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  1. Date: 11/10/2008 7:53:00 AM
    Those 45's were better than the hip hop garbage we get to hear and listen to with a bottle of Pepto Bismal. I like 45's we should ave some for our turntables and two for our holsters. What a combination, street justice and good music. Have a great day, Fred. Vince

  1. Date: 11/8/2008 9:57:00 PM
    OH yes, the old 45's. This is a very sentimental write that brings the reader into a hidden treasure from the attic with beats of Chubby Checker, Dion, Fabian, The Crests, Songs that remain in our hearts forever, the era may have ended, but the melody lingers forever, this is a very sweet memory lane write... Bonnie collins

  1. Date: 11/8/2008 6:04:00 PM
    We still have a little suitcase holding those little 45's....don't know why we keep them 'cause we have nothing to play them on, but just haven't got the heart to let them go! I danced in Jr. High to those songs!! ~ Carrie

  1. Date: 11/8/2008 8:36:00 AM
    Fred , what are 45's ??? . My old machine only plays 78's and the starting-handle is wonkey . No wonder the beatles sound a bit scratchy !!!! .... And don't even mention Mad-Donna ......

  1. Date: 11/8/2008 6:28:00 AM
    I am an attic junkie! Would love to hear an old 45 again, and remember one persons junk is anothers treasure! lol love Kristin

  1. Date: 11/8/2008 6:24:00 AM
    So the world moves on, as it should. Everything has it's place in time. Never forgotten, never meaningless. There are many secret treasures in our attics. Love, Shar