Short Turntable Poems

The turntable spins,
but the song has no sound heard
as the needle wears.....

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Vinyl records are still around. 
They carry some amazing sound. 
If you are able, 
get yourself a turntable. 
The music you hear will astound....

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Kittens spinning ‘round-and-‘round on a record player’s turn table;

Fuzzy balls of velvet hair, enjoying the ride.

Oh the elation of a, feline merry-go-round!
...

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bound and tethered
held strong with grievous filaments
i struggled not
feeling the futility
and the masterful illusion of my jaundiced mind
she holds me captive
on the turntable of despair...

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Smash 
                   turntable! 
               Petals of music 
  play this year’s Summer anthem!
                     Merge! 
   Blasting weak doors off the car
         pull from every sound;
              Blow our minds!
                      Bud....

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In my mind’s eye: 
I still hang up 
the rotary phone,
as I hear conversations
on the party line. 
My hands flip albums
on the turntable;
and adjust the TV
antennae. My hair
flies in the wind,
as I ride in the back
of a pick-up truck,
on an old island highway.

#HowYouCanTellMyAge...

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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....

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all the wheels
are still 
so no 
lights light 
my darkness

this must be
sleep for a
circus finds
me when i'm
awake so i must

make but 
with only a few 
to power a turntable
to start turning churning 
out Proud Mary but would

need thousands with
a thousand wheels
squeaking to try to
have at least just
one synapse 

spark...

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A bright night,
transparent eyelids,
prismatic brain
on a turntable.

The night was too dark,
it had to grow new eyes,
it had to show its face,
to be found by the stars.

The heaven within
shone out.

A faceless man,
flew through the dome
of his skull.

After morning coffee,
that same man
still had to hunt 
for misplaced glasses.

...

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Trying to get a tune 
out of broken records?
Sounds like insanity;
You cannot pioneer 
and deny what you see;

Trying to get a tune;
There is such a deep scratch,
the song can’t keep going;
Stuck forever in place 
a sleepy beat skipping;

Trying to get a tune 
so you press play again;
Rolling so beautiful;
That turntable light’s up,
hit with a new needle....

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Audio pop
Sniff the notes 
Smiley stereo the pop recordings 
Rhythm and blues 
Heart so jazzed up 
Country western cowboys snooze 
Passionate is the stereo recorder payola
Silent stenography 
Turntable record player 
A tap happy cassette
Transfers to 8-track tralalalala 
This and a concert music
And masked voices
 Symphony

12/28/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr...

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Listen to poem:

The Tie Dye Grave
David J  Walker

A gray ponytail from
A balding head 
Vintage love beads and 
A waterbed
A Garrard turntable and a 
Marantz Amp 
Pioneer speakers and a
Roach clip clamp
Some far-out sneakers
And a Lava lamp
Jimi Hendrix in a purple haze
Moody Blues from 
Future past days
McCartney & Lennon in the
Beatles craze
The old grey hippie will his
Souvenirs save and
Take the 60’s to a 
Tie dye grave...

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determinedly traveling around and around
traveling in a circular motion
doing the same thing daily
enjoying nothing

spinning her wheels
loudly so others can admire
no one does

Using so much energy
showing it proudly
accomplishing nothing new

stuck in a rut, that cycles like a turntable
no one suggests any more
she is determined

traveling no where
seeing the same results
never jumping off her unproductive cycle....

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Do you remember back in 1972
when “Climax” recorded the song “Precious and Few”?
Those lyrics describe exactly how I feel
during each moment with you that is real.
Since then, it has been a couple of generations.
However, the song still gives me sensations.
After all these years, I am still willing and able.
I will get out that vinyl record and put it on my turntable.
It puts me in a mood for romance.
Please join me in another slow dance.
...

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I haven’t played a record
In more years than I can say,
Yet still I mourn the record player
That we ditched today.

It sat there in the living room
Accumulating dust,
But since we’re spiffing up the place
I really must adjust.

I’ll box my records in a crate
And hide them out of sight.
I have no way to play them,
But to toss them’s just not right.

Though music’s always in my life,
I’ve said goodbye to vinyl
And now that my turntable’s gone,
That farewell feels more final....

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