Yellow Submarine

[deryk]

Yellow Submarine


Those clarion notes


washed over the bed sheets from the bath

as I softly stumbled out of them.


It was the watery cadence

of some intuitive tune


I couldn't quite wrap my tongue around.

Before me whistled a man with a magnificent mustache.


He flooded the bathroom walls with his lights,

erasing mildew with the spackle-sheen of his roller.


The whistling stopped, and he greeted me in broken English.

Something about a box.


I stared at the package on the counter, apprehended.

Had I offended him?


He took his leave of my lost translations

and went back to whistling Yellow Submarine.

[deryk]

Ever have the feeling that you have forgotten how to ride a bicycle?

[Delta40]

Deryk! so good to see you. I forget what it is like all the time. I'm at work but will review your poem later today. take care x

[cafolini]

I do live in my yellow submarine, but as I walk around I can make it turn blue. Forgetting how to ride a bicycle? Perhaps with dementia without script. Or lack of balance confused with forgetfulness.

[Haunted]

I enjoyed this, good stuff. And a good tune too.

[Delta40]

I'm a bit baffled about the box and its mysterious contents. Love the tune, the mustache - had me thinking about those fab four sixties illustrations.

[Hawkman]

Hi Deryk, Nice to see you around. I am a little confused by the first three lines as their cumulative effect is peculiar. Exactly what are you stumbling out of; the notes, the bath or the bedsheets? and exactly what had the counter done, or indeed the box, that either or both might be apprehended, in flagrante delicto ;)

Still, a rather smile inducing read this morning and the scene invoked is vivid.

Live and be well - H

[deryk]

I do live in my yellow submarine, but as I walk around I can make it turn blue. Forgetting how to ride a bicycle? Perhaps with dementia without script. Or lack of balance confused with forgetfulness.
You have a blue projector too, eh?


I enjoyed this, good stuff. And a good tune too.
Glad you enjoyed it, Haunted.


I'm a bit baffled about the box and its mysterious contents. Love the tune, the mustache - had me thinking about those fab four sixties illustrations.
Much obliged Delta! I think the box is just a distraction device. It could contain the briefcase from Pulp Fiction for all I care. :)


Hi Deryk, Nice to see you around. I am a little confused by the first three lines as their cumulative effect is peculiar. Exactly what are you stumbling out of; the notes, the bath or the bedsheets? and exactly what had the counter done, or indeed the box, that either or both might be apprehended, in flagrante delicto ;)

Still, a rather smile inducing read this morning and the scene invoked is vivid.

Live and be well - H

I realized the poem's narrative was a bit shaky before returning to it again. That's what I get for not revising before posting. The subject is being woken by a bathroom handy-man that happens to be whistling the tune. The subject doesn't recognize the tune until after the indecipherable encounter. It appears I miscalculated confusion for lucidity. Thanks for the input!