Beatles Saudade

A feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia.

The thought came to me as I listened to Abbey Road apathetically,
Glancing up at a mirrored ceiling—
En vogue in the late ‘70s, tacky by the early ’80s—
The more I stared into my eyes,
Pupils eclipsing their Milky-Way-brown irises,
The farther I felt from myself.

My past floated lazily like a striped, annular flotation device
On a pool of what I held in my mind up to that point:
Deep enough to drown in, but shallow enough to see the sun
Gleam past molten glass vitrines insulating the wet from the dry,
Dancing flames on the arabesque-tiled sphere.

I could see individual drops of water as clearly as pearl grains:
Each a moment in time—
Of pain, joy, sorrow, fear,
Songs I loved, ones forgotten;
Canticles of undying youth, sung out of the mouth of babes and sucklings,
Their backbeat jangling crystalline out of sunburst hollow bodies—
Multiplied as tears wept awakening from a dream,
Their imperfect sphericality, thousands of moons
Glowing with feeling-light— the tumult of being— thrashed the once still pool,
As tepid, calm breezes, unbeknownst to all, slowly morph into violent storms.

The lifesaver, exiled relic proving Pepperland’s existence,
Rapidly pinwheeled 33 1/3 revolutions per minute:
Candy cane, barber’s pole, lollipop swirl,
Moptops, LP-black, questioning a world full of questions,
Their melodies detaching problems from their consequence, not their weight;
A galaxy of neumes traversing the entirety of my ears.

The blackness of the gyrating disc concaved into a singularity,
A spider knitting its web in the midst of the storm—
A translucent house filled with empty people—
Strong enough to balance a walrus, high enough to befuddle an eagle,
Yet it’s frailty clear in the impending tide’s stultifying massacre.

Seemingly vicious, the arachnid invoked a paralyzing spell on all who stared,
But the fortress built around herself,
To protect her from a world much bigger and dangerous,
One whose full extent she would never know existed,
Relied on the architecture of others—
Man-made or God-spoken creation— to secure her livelihood
For nourishment, binding her wounds, and hiding forever in her loneliness.

Oblivion of the lifelines she cast out, one after one,
By one swift, five-fingered strum, could bring
Heartache’s wounding blow.



Oseguera, Jose L. (2018). A Galaxy of Neumes[Image]. Los Angeles, CA.

22 thoughts on “Beatles Saudade

  1. I must admit that I had to look up the meaning of the word, “Saudade”. You have done an admirable job capturing the spirit of it. The longing for past/future; languishing over the interminable presence; that state of mind between waking and wondering and the thousand-yard stare that goes with it; You caught it all, Ze.
    Great work.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Mademoiselle, you are such a sweetheart! Thank you for the nomination. I want to repay your generosity by writing the best sequel/prequel to “Flowers, bushes…A Woman” that I can. I’m currently doing so and would like to completely immerse myself in that task. I’m trying to finish it by Feb. 1.

      Again, I appreciate your continual support and lovely comments and critiques; they mean more to me than any award or publication acceptance that I can receive. It is for people like you that I write. Thank you, my dear.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Wow! Well, you’re welcome! 🙂
        Feb 1st, I’ll be waiting. Not I day later. 😉
        You really won’t accept it? 😦 I feel slightly sad, but it’s YOUR decision. But could you PLEASE answer the questions of the award, in the comments of my post, PLEASE!
        Thank you for appreciating this little amateur’s comments. You can really make my day a lot better.
        Anyways, have a great day!:)

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Okay, I’ll comment the answers to the questions.

        Don’t get me wrong. I love receiving these awards, but I have this personal tally going on in my blog, where every blog post is a story or poem. I’m up to 90 posts, and my goal ever since I started blogging was to reach 100 posts. It’s taken me 2 years to reach this milestone, and I would like to reach it solely by writing stories and nothing else.

        I know I sound neurotic, but I hope you understand my decision 🙂


        Liked by 1 person

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