Last night we attended a John Prine tribute concert…and I must confess
in the 72 years I’ve been alive…something must be wrong…
because although I was familiar with his name…
I was not familiar with his songs.
But I am now!
As I sat and listened to his music I was enchanted…hypnotized.
How wonderful that at my age I can still experience something new…
that I am still young enough to be surprised.
It was easy to understand…as they played his songs
and I listened to his lyrics and each accompanying melody…
How a simple song can make you laugh…
or cry…
or fall in love
as it creates a memory.
And it made me stop and wonder…What have I been doing all these years!
That, until last night, not one John Prine song
had found it’s way into my ears.
My words cannot express the magic of his music…
and you know what…I don’t care…
I just know life is a little sweeter…with John’s music in the air.
He was a prolific songwriter…
writing over 160 songs in his lifetime…
last night we only heard a few…
Which means it’s time for me to end this poem
because
I have a lot of catching up to do.
Hanging with the clothes, hanging on the line,
sunk down in a hammock listening to Prine.
I'm hiding from the mower under this tree,
with a cooler full of beer, as cold as can be.
There's a stack of bills on the kitchen table,
to pay them all, don't think I'll be able.
I ain't gonna starve and ain't gonna beg,
if the garden comes up and the chickens lay eggs.
The wife handed me a list and I hate to be rude,
but I got a deaf ear and a laid back mood.
It looks like this place is falling apart
and I'm too crazy to care and too lazy to start.
3/12/21
The Scales of Justice didn't tip my way,
I figure from the dues I've had to pay.
While thumbing down to Shaky Town
I thought I turn my luck around,
At a drugstore in Salinas on a cold September day.
The Wheel of Fortune, rolled out the door
With the owner tied and ordered to the floor.
As from the till the larger bills
I grabbed until my pockets filled,
A gunshot woke the morning on that cold September day.
My Guardian Angel flew out of town
As my body wretch’d and tumbled to the ground.
There close to death I came to rest,
A sheriff's bullet in my chest.
My ticket back to prison on that cold September Day.
Never caught a glimpse of Lady Luck.
But that ain't going to make me pass the buck.
After 3 to 10 in Folsom pen
And wondering where my life has been,
I walked out in the sunlight on a cold September day.
The Horn of Plenty wouldn’t blow my song,
But somehow through these years I’ve got along.
While never holding nothing more than
Inside straights and hotel doors,
I'll sit out while you dance with life this cold September day.
Dedicated to Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt and John Prine.
You know he’s still with you when the radio
plays one of his unforgotten songs
and next thing you know
you find yourself
singing along.
Rest in peace John, we know you were in heaven before you died.
If you ask me why I rhyme
It’s inspired by John Prine
Heard that first album in seventy-one
only six and saw them having fun
Laughing, crying and singing along
knew the words to all his songs
Didn’t know all the meanings
but I joined in with the singing
Grownups thought it was cute
and knew I couldn’t compute
Devastated to learn Sam Stone’s monkey didn’t exist
when I turned in my Christmas list!
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