Posted by: shorelineclusterpoets/NE Fowl | March 11, 2010

Suggested Theme Thursday: Ch-ch-ch-changes

Credit goes to a great David Bowie song for that post title.

While reading an article yesterday on new school standards for the teaching of math and English (see here), I got to thinking about a few things, especially how things change. Today’s suggested theme is one that we can all relate to in a different way (which, after all, is the point).

We can all think of some things that have changed since we were kids. Even some of the youngsters in the group can think about all the changes. Computers were just starting to be common in classrooms as I left school. Perhaps standards have changed. One group member has said often that when she becomes a teacher, she’ll make students write term papers so they aren’t afraid of them.

This doesn’t have to be about school, just changes in the way life moves now for kids versus how it moved when you were a young laddie or lassie. (and while I don’t want this to be about the destruction/evolution of the English language, as writers I think we can all sit back and ponder that too).

So, a couple themes tonight. Changes (or you can write about your favorite David Bowie tune…)

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Responses

  1. Well, my favorite Bowie song is definitely “Life On Mars” because it pretty much describes my teenage years, except for the minor detail that I didn’t grow up in England, though at the time I wished I did.

    But – Ok, I seem to be in a time squeeze this week, but here’s a poem I did awhile ago about how wonderful it was to open a new music album when albums were vinyl and the whole aesthetic of having the album slide out of it’s cardboard sleeve, etc, and also having the wonderful experience of handling the thing carefully as befitted its contents – and – I didnt even touch on this – the heady feeling of turning it over on the turntable with that quasi-religious pause of savoring the first half before going onto the second half of what were often carefully conceived progressions of songs. So here’s a window into that experience:

    (I know you have seen this one before – Rudy and Judy)

    Rubber Soul

    An ache in my side
    from running home uphill
    The torn paper bag
    parts like reliquary curtains

    The cover
    not yet worried threadbare
    with devotional obsession

    The photograph
    distorted and lush
    browns and greens
    the icons in suede
    the one’s face
    challenging the camera

    The cellophane
    the edge of my thumbnail
    slitting an opening
    to peel it away
    teasing the inner sleeve forward
    a slight resistance
    perfection.

    Reaching
    fingertip tongs
    to the smooth edge
    coaxing the disc free

    Ecstatically electrified
    slivers of dye-cut paper
    skittering across the surface,
    blowing away.

    pristine vinyl
    offered up
    like a black host
    to the turntable,
    the diamond kissing
    the surface

    sussurus sussurus

    “I get high
    when I see you go by,
    my oh my.” Gemma Mathewson 3 – 7- 07


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