Edith Piaf is used to mirror this poem of mine calling for an artists rite to break from the norm, to think outside the box, to destroy and then build again...ed :)
Like ‘Little Sparrow’
Please, please, don’t rehabilitate me,
and try to bind this raven’s calls
to forms and schemes so like
the diagramed sentences exacted on me
by the petulant, penguins of St. Bernard’s...
padam…padam…padam.
I can not conform. I was born to non-conformity.
Let me be free to singsong happily
rather than to wheeze breathless,
dressed frustrated;
straight-jacketed in iron, reinforced,
and worn, corset-covers...
padam…padam…padam.
Like ‘Little Sparrow’, I lost a love long ago
in one more tempest of life. Disagree if you will
but give me my last Olympia,
one more song to sing for you
before a last shot
high into the good night...
padam…padam…padam.
Spread my broken bits on the Palace Green
before I grow Whoof-minded.
Let the children run atop me playfully
to the sounds of the fifes and drums marching...
padam…padam…padam.
It is in the poem I can sing to you
sweetly or harshly as my intemperate mood swings
back and forth to the meanderings
of few joys and many sufferings...
padam...padam...padam.
"...to singsong happily rather than to wheeze breathless" ...yes, indeed, that's the essence of this poem for me; there's power and depth in your words, Ed, and Piaf is up there among my all-time favourites..that fire of longing and sheer experience in the voice, a soul singing.
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