Sunday, June 17, 2018

Jail House Music



I have a dark blue folder with tooth paste residue on it.  It is twelve or so years old now and has memories I’d just as soon forget.  But I cannot escape the past and am generally grateful the folder survived along with pages and pages of thoughts…while idly passing the time away.  That’s the beauty of the written word; it hasn’t been exposed to the digital scrutiny of yesterday’s news, today’s reality and tomorrow’s potential possibilities.

I cherish this dark blue folder with some long forgotten Law firm’s name and logo on it.  One of my cellmates must have been fortunate enough to have resources for such luxuries…an attorney that is.  My right to a speedy trial contains six months of wait, wonder, weep and worship.  If you want to fight for your freedom, there’s no cost related to time, it just ticks away…minutes at a time.  Kind of an oxymoron if you will…each minute you wait for your freedom, while at the same time losing that minute of freedom forever more…lost in the misery of the mundane made whole by the realization of despair.

But one cannot ponder the past for long, or their mind will clutter with misgivings; much better than to look to the future and count the minutes away on an invisible clock.  The toothpaste residue was a substitute for glue that once held a Medieval looking cross…hand drawn by a jailhouse artist.

Besides having a lawyer, one of the other rare luxuries is when a cheerful night guard plays some music on the PA system.  It’s hard to remember what the rhythm of life sounds like when surrounded by shouts, screams and strung together words of nonsense in a never ending quest to be heard.  It must have been one such night…a moment of outside music…and these were my thoughts…afterwards:

“Jail House Music”  August 2005
Music it is said can tame the savage beast
And everyone knows it is a must at any feast.
But what is little known is how music speaks
To our very core it strengthens us when we’re weak.
I have suffered thru many depressive moods
Only to have music to help me sooth.
Tonight in jail I heard “City Lights”
As I looked out my window at a twinkling sight.
Also played was “Just the Two of Us” and
“If I Saw You In Heaven” by Eric Clapton.
Eric wrote that song for his four year old son
Who fell to his death out a penthouse window.
Yes music has a way of speaking to us all
It has a wondrous… mystical call. 

(c) B.A.S.  
Psalms..."the Songs of Life"
            

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