Christmas Eve

"Christmas Eve"


In granite shades
Crystal revelations
Thread a needle
Through the eye

And the beast returns
To snowy plains
And crying crows
Around the chimney tops

Porridge with some tea and honey
Wishing he'd never existed
Pottering in the house
Praying the past will go away
A still and pregnant mood is

A table set for one
The bird has flown
A soft and slushy solitaire
Ambles in the dark
Four in the pm
Darkness heavy as a marsh

The night comes on
Cold and lonely
Telephone rings
No one’s there


2018 Charles Murray

Hi Charles 
Your poem about Christmas Eve gives a strange impression 
We could talk about it later.

MurielB a écrit:Hi Charles 
Your poem about Christmas Eve gives a strange impression 
We could talk about it later.

Thank you Muriel, for commenting on my piece.

It is a little bit strange, isn't it? It was written about two years ago describing a vision I had after talking to a friend who I felt was very alone. It reminds me of the line from the Beatles song (Eleanor Rigby), "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?"

For info:



Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there
What does he care?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved

All the lonely people
(Ah, look at all the lonely people)
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
(Ah, look at all the lonely people)
Where do they all belong?

On my album, The Eighth Muse, "Christmas Eve" is followed by this one, called "Hands Of Time".

How does it make you feel?




"Hands Of Time"


This grand father
This sombre case
This pondering chain
And pendulous objection
To my losing hours

I will talk to anyone
Even you, obsessed with minutiae
Precise, precise
You always count twice

Your bronze face
And steady hands

And chimings on the hour
Every hour


2018 Charles Murray

I feel I have 2 opposite feelings 
The clock helps me to meditate and at the time makes me obsessed with exactness. I can let go but also become very meticulous

MurielB a écrit:I feel I have 2 opposite feelings 
The clock helps me to meditate and at the time makes me obsessed with exactness. I can let go but also become very meticulous

Thanks Muriel, for taking the time to comment. This poem was born of witnessing the inexorable march of time as represented by an old grandfather clock I used to live with. It used to tick very loudly, especially, it seemed, in the still of the night.

Joyeuses fêtes !

Hello

As part of the 2024 re-publication of "The Eighth Muse", I have re-recorded the two songs in this post.

Here they are, with French translations :



"Christmas Eve"


In granite shades
Crystal revelations
Thread a needle through the eye

And the beast returns to snowy plains
And crying crows
Around the chimney tops

Porridge with some tea and honey
Wishing he'd never existed
Pottering in the house

Praying the past
Will go away
A still and pregnant mood is

A table set for one
The bird has flown
A soft and slushy solitaire

Ambles in the dark
Four in the pm
Darkness heavy as a marsh

The night comes on
Cold and lonely
No lamp is lit

Telephone rings
Who could it be?
No one’s there


Traduction française :


"Réveillon de Noël"


En nuances granitiques
Révélations de cristal
S'enfilent par le chas d'une aiguille

Et la bête regagne les plaines enneigées
Et les corbeaux pleureurs
Autour des cimes des cheminées

Du porridge avec du thé et du miel
En souhaitant qu'il n'ait jamais existé
Il mijote dans la maison

Priant pour que le passé
S'en aille
Une humeur inerte et pesante s'installe

Une table dressée pour une personne
L'oiseau s'est envolé
Un solitaire dans la neige fondue

Se promène à travers le noir
Quatre heures de l'après-midi
L'obscurité est lourde comme un marais

La nuit se prépare
Froide et déserte
Aucune lampe n'est allumée

Le téléphone sonne
Qui est-ce ?
Personne n'est là


2024 The Getèmocy



"Hands Of Time"


This grand father
This sombre case

This pondering chain
And pendulous objection to my losing hours

I will talk to anyone
Even you, obsessed with minutiae

Precise, precise
You always count twice

Your bronze face
And steady hands

And chimings on the hour
Every hour


Traduction française :


“Les Aiguilles Du Temps”


Ce grand père
Ce coffre noir

Ce balancier contemplatif
Cette objection pendante à mes heures perdues

Je parlerai à n’importe qui
Même toi, obsédé par la minutie

Méticuleux, méticuleux
Tu comptes toujours deux fois

Ton visage de bronze
Et tes mains fermes

Et tes carillons à l’heure
Toutes les heures


2024 The Getèmocy


What do you think?

"The Eighth Muse", the new studio album from The Getèmocy, is available here : https://www.youtube.com/@thegetemocy

I will gradually be recording other albums too, so check back often !

“Art is how we decorate space, music is how we decorate time.” – Jean-Michel Basquiat

Oh, what a lovely surprise to discover these poems! I appreciate the words which follow one another like a slow motion film revealing images of great beauty. Poetry is music of the soul and leads it along the paths of our buried memories.

MicD a écrit:Oh, what a lovely surprise to discover these poems!  I appreciate the words which follow one another like a slow motion film revealing images of great beauty.  Poetry is music of the soul and leads it along the paths of our buried memories.

Thank you ! That's very kind :-)

More here : https://www.youtube.com/@thegetemocy

Thank you Charles for enriching the forum with your poetry. It's very beautiful

MurielB a écrit:Thank you Charles for enriching the forum with your poetry. It's very beautiful

Thanks Muriel

It's nice to read that