Thursday, April 3, 2014

You know my keys won't fit the door...

Not a work of art, but I like it because it has lasted all these years - over 30 - and been everywhere with me...

The spring has encouraged the daddy-long-legs to drift into my room at night. Their funny, feathery flight is driving the cats wild as they stalk these beasts around the varied flotsam and jetsam that has accumulated on every surface. As I love butterflies, dragonflies, bees and beetles, many of the objects that the feline furies invariably crash into during their frantic hunt are associated with some form of insect. Trying to sleep in this pandemonium is quite an experience, and in addition to this animation I have been kept awake by anticipation of a Momentous Moment of Closure.

More of the same...
 This afternoon I was expecting to sign the papers to shut the final door of all those that have been closed over too many of the last years. It was called off at the eleventh hour due to the love of pounds, pennies and principles as the King really had been in his counting house. After years of falling down an Alice-in-Wonderland tunnel, wondering what is illusion or reality, what is outsized or shrunk I thought I was about to land on solid ground. But no, it might still be some time before I'm finally grounded. 

 I Had a King - Joni Mitchell - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcGvR1OumjM

 
The song above was in my head when I woke up one morning, right at the very beginning of this long, long process of door-slamming, when I thought I'd carelessly lost the key, and had let myself get shut out on the wrong side of the door. How mistaken I was - the key never did fit; I just took years to realize...

                                            I Had a King - Joni Mitchell

                                                 I had a king in a tenement castle
                                                 Lately he's taken to painting the pastel walls brown
                                                 He's taken the curtains down
                                                 He's swept with the broom of contempt
                                                 And the rooms have an empty ring
                                                 He's cleaned with the tears
                                                 Of an actor who fears for the laughter's sting

                                                                   I can't go back there anymore
                                                                   You know my keys won't fit the door
                                                                   You know my thoughts don't fit the man
                                                                   They never can they never can

                                               I had a king dressed in drip-dry and paisley
                                               Lately he's taken to saying I'm crazy and blind
                                               He lives in another time
                                               Ladies in gingham still blush
                                               While he sings them of wars and wine
                                               But I in my leather and lace
                                               I can never become that kind

                                                                    I can't go back there anymore
                                                                    You know my keys won't fit the door
                                                                    You know my thoughts don't fit the man
                                                                    They never can they never can

                                              I had a king in a salt-rusted carriage
                                              Who carried me off to his country for marriage too soon
                                              Beware of the power of moons
                                              There's no one to blame
                                              No there's no one to name as a traitor here
                                              The king's on the road
                                              And the queen's in the grove till the end of the year

                                                                     I can't go back there anymore
                                                                     You know my keys won't fit the door
                                                                     You know my thoughts don't fit the man
                                                                     They never can they never can


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