Tag: beatles

A Certain Melody

I remember a time

traveling the highway

short ride to my exit

just off the city ramp,


So many occasions I thought

only of you

soft chords of a melody

when I listen tonight still …


Maybe it is the Beatles,

back then the Fab Four –

‘Back in the USSR’ meant little

beyond a lovely rhyme scheme


Tonight it has its own silent mystique,

a memory like 8th street after sunset.

©️ Thom Amundsen 4/2021

– for Karla

Life As We Know It

Listen to a melody if you please

one familiar to the modern age

we all knew how to appreciate ease

there were ballads all will manage


Innovative to a measure of genius

will you ever understand their verve

ability to play the powerful albatross

without ever spilling suggesting nerve.


We would wonder next because merit

evolves in ability to continue to produce

and did they yes with efficient writ

passages, human condition thought loose


Yet now today, worship the innovative

beyond comprehension, fab four live.

Watching The Snowy Night Sky

I’ve been waiting all day for the snow,

now I glance my window,

it arrives with a light affection

reminds me of my childhood

perhaps a memory that haunts me more than love

the delight of family,

the anticipation of a gathering,

the death of a cousin,

where in my silent fog of misunderstanding,

I watched the burial of a loved one,

while treetops echoed the reminder of snowy limbs,

the sort of day we might play,

but instead we watched a passing of life,

confusion, anger, loss, and tears were rife

on this day I watched my cousin laid into the wintry earth.


So tonight, I watch the sky again,

a quiet reminder of how our lives

are sweet in their ties to memory,

of love, of pain, of the loss all so bittersweet.


The snows are beautiful though ever so brief

It Is A Beautiful Day


How so do the moods define our day,

we wake to a sunlit morning to defy the odds,

or perhaps we settle in selective pods

stepped away we did from society’s way.


A certain lovely attraction is contained in smile

circus acts and normalcy all find sweet balance,

life becomes less of form, tossed beyond chance

might we interact open heartedly in the while.


We speak of a world that exists based upon because

spirited within an altruistic desire toward freedom.

Yet somewhere along the way began a kingdom

begetting perhaps – there begs the question of laws.


Sans the trifle, sense the spirited nature of release

We shall find resolute Love internalized in peace.

These are the people I remember

I listen to a certain melody to bring me somewhere,

need to step out of where I am,

perhaps an escape,

one might call it a sojourn,

only works when I can find my right rhythm,

my beat, my way of departing from my real place,

into that world of imagination.

I use music to get me there,

but it can take a lot of hours,

just like the many days that have passed,

those that I recall when the words and tones of music

help me return to that place,

cold or bitter with the pain of my reality,

I can still find myself there.

I listen to music to bring me home again,

to that place we’re only supposed to go when we are ready to be there,

I suppose it is like a journey to another time,

that imagined pedestal too high to climb.

I have my music as a sort of blanket,

that one to suffice when emotions raw I can’t handle any outcomes

on my own.

I need your music to bring me there, again.



When I was four the world changed around me,

my family I was only just learning to love

devastated by the national news.

The musty den in our home is my memory,

laying on the stale carpet, didn’t need a chair,

I was the kid,

with my family all together in tears

watching Walter Cronkite deliver our reality

(months later we would do the same with the Beatles, no tears)

as the news spread across a failing nation

whose idealism had died

with a bullet to the head.

Stark reality for me was still a cartoon image,

fascinated by the replays of a dying man,

I laid down aroused by the truth of tragedy,

wondering why everyone else was crying

while wallowing in the imagery

of a human condition I wasn’t yet ready

to understand.


In 1964, we would discover a British sound, a saving grace

let us forget about pain for a short time,

introduced a certain mindset that let us drift,

make love, hold flowers to our eyes, and scream for justice,

while around us everyone continued to crumble;

the forgotten meadow of loss

that when the buds of autumn begin to dry,

we only pay attention to the remaining fragrance,

that once used to be,

then life drifts away only to be reborn again

later in the springs of reckoning

when last year’s pain suddenly becomes memory.

The world would carry on as the human condition demands

with peril,

victory in the minds of the protestors,

a sea of young men wandering the soil at home

without any strength,

sapped by the will of living

in a war zone, drugged and destroyed,

while later in their lives, the mind could only be reminded,

no longer able to produce.

We watched as one leader after another discovered lead

that stopped our rally calls with a deafening silence,

later erupting in the civil streets across the country,

every alley way becoming planning ground

for the evening assault on the commercial world

unable to connect with the personal.

Without his charisma,

Beyond his angst,

faraway from peaceful strolls,

well past new idealism,

the 60’s became a fog,

a slow burning abyss

of revolution and fear,

that decades later would become a foundational


The minds that cried the loudest would be those

that seek shelter while saying ‘yes’ to the man

they earlier in life simply didn’t want to understand.

They got it, but didn’t like it,

well at least until they had their moments

victory with the status quo

a yuppified society that became the norm,

while underneath the pavement,

the homeless vets continued to struggle,

joined again by addicts,

followers of visualized hedonism

not quite understood.

The reality spoke,

we’d lost the beauty of JFK’s idealism,

only to later watch the Beatles create beauty in rhythms

that perhaps even Malcolm X might appreciate,

if we’d let him live beyond his progressive change.

Then Martin Luther King, Jr, was cut down by a savage

that created a rolling haze of violence and destruction

well deserved for the ignorance that helped aim the rifle.

I remember in 1968 I was growing conscious,

a man looked powerful with a similar charisma,

and just when he began to help me understand,

the State of California became a tragic focus.


Today, we do celebrate his idealism, the beauty of correctly stated words.

Imagine how poignant Lennon’s words would have remained, if only then,

at that time, the human condition couldn’t again rear its ugly naivete.

Haven’t Cried Since Lennon Died


**Robin Williams  1951 – 2014**

I really don’t recall being that effected

by the loss of someone i didn’t know at all.

I knew I wanted to meet him,

someday have an opportunity

to shake his hand

feel his remarkable presence

as he stood before

one human being 

and one amazing rock star. 

When that time was taken away

I didn’t want to live another day.

About three days after listening 

every Beatles song ever written,

‘Happy Christmas’ stopped my car

at the local Shopko and I cried right there.


Last night when the news came in

I watched in disbelief as all of your accolades

were displayed on every network,

every laugh they could find in a few short hours

to celebrate the life of a man that made everyone


I realized a few minutes ago, when I’d read

one more testimony on what a great guy you are,

I realized as the tears came into my eyes,

I hadn’t cried since Lennon died 

over someone with your stature,

untouchable but beautiful.

“Oh Captain, My Captain”

What have you done!

Music, Please! (Random Notes)


I remember

There were days like these

Soft mornings, just waking

Eyes adjusting

The steady fog of reality

Waiting in the silence

Laying in bed only to begin wondering again

What shall I do

Who might I become

How could I even begin

The eyes have certainly stepped in


…and then the music began

crooning my mood well into the pierce of radiance

… sunrise …

she was now standing before me

with her seductive veils

and graceful dreams

reminding me that not so long ago

her spirit was in my heart locked in forever

while the cliffs and regions of fear nearby

seemed only after-thoughts

knowing our lives were caught up

the elegance of living out our own fantasies

the dawn of deliverance


‘Oh baby, do you remember

Laying in that green grass’

Grateful to VanMorrison for bringing me back

To the only one I love

She drives my soul to wake in the still air

Allow a tune to assist her return

Special moments drifting our energy together

Wherever you might be can you listen a moment

We’ll be together forever then

Dancing well into the autumn nights

Slipping through the silent fog of our reality

Loving you, loving me


‘Baby, you’re the only one who could ever help me’

As McCartney might always state it so clearly

With a rift of desire splendid in such telling degree

To answer all the confusion that first waking brings

After a night of checking out to rest our souls

We listen to music to air our desires

Set a tone

Bring a melody home

And bathe our stains with a cleansing freedom

That allows our heart to regain spiritual reckoning

I used to let the record player

Repeat itself for hours

Was not as much the lyrics

As the cadence of driving notes

Allowed me to sigh with clever poise

Something that gives the coldest heart a feverish

Release of emotional fury.


Imagine all the people …

Listening Songs


Have you ever wondered about the power of song?

I listen to feel alive

Certain voices, certain lives

I know sometimes they help me feel I belong


Words emanate through a spiritual gift of melody

Breathe a wonderful sound

So our hearts become wound

Soothing our lives in solace – love in quiet tragedy


The broken spell of love that rocked your world today

Every fiber of your body open

All notion of struggle forgotten

Years later the beauty of time’s reminder on a given day


Baez, Collins, Dylan, Lennon and a little VanMorrison

Pink Floyd, ELO, we do like to rock

Moody Blues, Chopin & Bach

Willie Nelson croons and Windy rhymes the Association


You can decide upon your own what spell is broken

When a favorite moment plays

Dream a little Billy Holiday

Carry the moment and allow time to be unforgotten


Spend hours hoping hymns of Simon & Garfunkel’s chance,

“Time it was, and what a time it was, a time of innocence”

That Silent Moment

When we begin to smile
We see a light in the horizon
Imagining a world so far away
Remembering a moment so near
That’s when the stars really do align
Telling our hearts that she got away
Wishing upon another lifetime
To ask our regrets to remain away
And allow our lives to live as one

When all the realities that exist around us
Suddenly begin to speak of our desire again