Category: Uncategorized

Something For Gregg

I was somewhere deep in Kansas

on a Triumph 69’

When your song came on the jukebox

and hit me from behind

I was headed for a bad place

and cared for nothing much

When I heard the song ‘Melissa,’

my heart and soul were struck

Entranced, your lyrics captured me

like nothing had before

When you sang about ‘The Gypsy,’

I headed for the door

But something made me turn around

and grab another dime

Ten more times in that diner’s booth,

still lost within your rhyme

Now back inside the bus station

and sleeping on the bench

I scratch your words into the wood,

last dollar gone and spent

My bike outside against the wall,

the kickstand was long gone

And out of gas, my hopes were dashed…

that unrelenting song

Waking up at ten unsettled,

across the street I pushed

The sign said Triumph-BSA,

the owner Mister Cush

He asked, “What’s with your motor,”

I said “Nothing—out of gas

“But worse I’m out of money,

can I sell the bike for cash?

“Would you please just buy my Triumph,

I know it’s old and worn

“It got me here through seven states,

runs great both cold and warm”

“I’ll pay three hundred on the spot,

on that can we agree?”

We walked back up inside his shop,

three bills he handed me

I thought about a bus ride home,

my thumb looked more in line

Facing East on old route 50,

my heart in deep decline

The first big rig that came along

was bound for York Pa.

The driver said “If you like dogs,

I’ll take you on your way”

In York I caught a fast ride out,

two ‘dodgers’ going North

And got back home with hat in hand,

your song to guide me forth

Two years then passed, I met my wife,

four more and our first child

We named her ‘Sweet Melissa,’

her dad back from the wilds

Now forty years have come and gone,

my beard and hair both gray

I owe you Gregg, and always will,

your song, her name—that day

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

 

For Gregg Allman

I sent this to Gregg in May, 2017.  It’s on his website.

We spent two days together in Richmond Virginia in

a blizzard in 1982.

 

A Reluctant Wind

The bums and the heroes

of revolution

asleep

As drawn to the cosmos

a light

travels deep

He asked for no quarter

playing outside

the game

His legion in shadows

he’d never

explain

Each song once it’s sung

his interest

foregone

To blind repetition

he couldn’t

belong

The critics in reference

enshrining

his fame

As the midwestern

prairie wind

—calls out his name

 

(Ode To Bob Dylan: November, 2023)

Just One Look

She wasn’t a beauty

though pretty enough

Her gait charismatic

 with looks to rebuff

 

He wanted to stop her

he waited and watched

For light in the tunnel

one chance not to botch

 

At last she took notice

his heart beating fast

Their eyes locked together

a fleeting repast

 

Time was suspended

new love in the air

As she boarded her plane

—leaving only a stare

 

(The New Room: November, 2023)