Poetry

‘The next Beatles song’ and other poems by Mark Tulin

By: Mark Tulin

The Next Beatles Song

I keep waiting for the next Beatles song
sitting by the radio in my psychedelic
bedroom.
I know if I hear it first,
it will be groovy
and I’ll be totally in awe.

I know they broke up
fifty years ago,
but I still wait to hear
their shaggy-haired truth
that will send my rubber soul
bouncing into enlightenment.

Perhaps, when that day occurs,
I’ll wear my new bell bottoms
and desert boots to school,
seeing my old hippie friends
holding finely-rolled joints with legs crossed
on the schoolyard lawn.

I will greet my pals with a peace sign
to show how cool I am
and share my love of vinyl,
the Beatles,
and their brand new album
that would turn my life upside down.

###

Baptismal Pool

Once I said Yes, I believe,
I felt my body floating backward
in slow motion
as if on the wings of an angel,
releasing me into the baptismal pool.

Submerged three feet under,
I floated lifelessly.
My head supported by delicate hands.
My soul delivered by sacred words.
All my tension gone.
I wish I could have stayed there
in the warmth of her breath,
nurtured by the holy breast.
I wish that the presence of an angel
could sanctify my life,
eternally.

###

Fate’s Dirty Trick

She almost found her place,
a piece of the pie, her salvation;
almost grabbed the victory ring
that would have brought her
lasting peace.

She was that close,
her retirement ducks in a row,
having earned her laborious reward,
a home down south,
a pension for life.

She would have a fresh start,
a new and rejuvenated soul.
She’d leave her dreadful city of birth
that spoiled her formative years,
hardened her heart,
and caused so many scars.

But at the exact moment,
no more, no less—
Fate, karma, the scheming universe
played a dirty trick.
She passed away quietly
in the cancer ward
with much regret.

Categories: Poetry

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