Elegy from a Cell Phone

from by Jordan O'Jordan

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lyrics

Now, it’s not gold explosions,
Nor leaves on the breeze,
Falling down from the tops
of old tawny oak trees,
That reveals how I feel
when you stare straight at me.
I’ve been told it’s these things,
but I must disagree.

And my blue eyes won’t change
at the sound of a bell,
Nor my skin color turn dear,
you know this right well,
There’s no sudden exposure
or shape-shifting spell,
That can alter my form,
as far as I can tell.

You call six times again,
from the phone of a friend,
You call three times across from my street,
But despite sonic blows, I remain in repose,
In these dreams, dear, it seems
I’m awake, though asleep.

And this present senescence
refreshes my thoughts,
And reminds me of finals,
and books that we bought,
For our classes, to classify
colds that we caught,
While we may not have passed,
well we gave a good shot.

And this blustery wind
can bend branches like strings,
And this staunch second hand
starts me timing small things,
Like the moments I spend
while my cell phone just rings,
There’s no answering for
what fortune fate thus brings.

But, you call six times again,
from the phone of a friend,
You call three times across from my street,
But despite sonic blows, I remain in repose,
In these dreams, dear, it seems
I’m awake, though asleep.

Now, It’s not obvious. It’s not nice.
It’s not missed calls or voicemails
that make this thing not-right,
It’s a color this morning I saw in the leaves,
Like an icicle forming on my true love’s eaves.

But, you call six times again,
from the phone of a friend,
You call three times across from my street,
But despite sonic blows, I remain in repose,
In these dreams, dear, it seems
I’m awake, though asleep.

credits

from Dream Radio: What Will Have Happened, released May 1, 2014

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Jordan O'Jordan Seattle, Washington

These are the sounds that we use to woo water. Issuing forth from some human or other (i.e. Hydrogen bonding; banjo- and heart-strings).

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