Joan Baez, pif (poet in fact)

Joan Baez, pif (poet in fact)

(c)2012 Bob Atkinson

gallant words upon the sheet

much emotion to reach way deep

into the heart, into the soul

not settled yet, no overdose

she plays my heart as if a fiddle

changing keys down in the middle

bring up those times of old

with bodies mingled, futures on hold

have sweet words of poets who

set upon language, but merely doodle

without effect, no teared wet eyes

no sympathy for their plight

call themselves poets

call their tripe poetry

call song lyrics

something mean

give only blank stares to emotion

no attention to good language spoken

set themselves as if on throne

defecate on what isn't their own

say song lyrics don't belong

because they're not poems but song

give awards to garbage pails

and move me not with their tales

hold themselves so high and mighty

empty shelves their only deity

pockets full of dusty sand

while song commands the audience to stand

Diamonds And Rust

written by Joan Baez

Well I'll be damned
Here comes your ghost again
But that's not unusual
It's just that the moon is full
And you happened to call

And here I sit
Hand on the telephone
Hearing a voice I'd known
A couple of light years ago
Heading straight for a fall

As I remember your eyes
Were bluer than robin's eggs
My poetry was lousy you said
Where are you calling from?
A booth in the midwest

Ten years ago
I bought you some cufflinks
You brought me something
We both know what memories can bring
They bring diamonds and rust

Well you burst on the scene
Already a legend
The unwashed phenomenon
The original vagabond
You strayed into my arms

And there you stayed
Temporarily lost at sea
The Madonna was yours for free
Yes the girl on the half-shell
Would keep you unharmed

Now I see you standing
With brown leaves falling around
And snow in your hair
Now you're smiling out the window
Of that crummy hotel
Over Washington Square

Our breath comes out white clouds
Mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
We both could have died then and there

Now you're telling me
You're not nostalgic
Then give me another word for it
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague

Because I need some of that vagueness now
It's all come back too clearly
Yes I loved you dearly
And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid