Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.



You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Thank you!

The Blues

by
 What did I think, a storm clutching a clarinet
and boarding a downtown bus, headed for lessons?
I had pieces to learn by heart, but at twelve

you think the heart and memory are different.
"'It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,' the Queen remarked.
" Alice in Wonderland.
Although I knew the way music can fill a room, even with loneliness, which is of course a kind of company.
I could swelter through an August afternoon -- torpor rising from the river -- and listen to Stan Getz and J.
J.
Johnson braid variations on "My Funny Valentine" and feel there in the room with me the force and weight of what I couldn't say.
What's an emotion anyhow? Lassitude and sweat lay all about me like a stubble field, it was so hot and listless, but I was quick and furtive as a fox who has his thirty-miles-a-day metabolism to burn off as ordinary business.
I had about me, after all, the bare eloquence of the becalmed, the plain speech of the leafless tree.
I had the cunning of my body and a few bars -- they were enough -- of music.
Looking back, it almost seems as though I could remember -- but this can't be; how could I bear it? -- the future toward which I'd clatter with that boy tied like a bell around my throat, a brave man and a coward both, to break and break my metronomic heart and just enough to learn to love the blues.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - The BluesEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...


Top William Matthews Poems

Analysis and Comments on The Blues

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem The Blues here.