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The Man Who Played One Chord

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The Man Who Played One Chord

Lou Reed once said “One chord is fine. Two chords is pushing it. Three chords and you’re into jazz.”  some of his greatest work adhered to this.

Javolenus shows us that less can be so much more if you want it to be. Something I have continued with in my love life!

Jeremy Hale was the blacksheep of the family. Whilst his siblings went into the family building business he tried to follow a more artistic path. Despite the lack of funding from his disapproving parents he managed to get himself into the Slade School of Fine Art. He had some talent but ultimately had to concede that he would never make a living from it. Years passed, one failed marriage and numerous dead end jobs brought little satisfaction. He lived in Bristol, England for many years before finally ending his days on the Isle of Man. He became a recluse with little contact with his family but gave them the impression he was living with a partner. After he had died relatives went to his home but there was no trace of anyone else having lived in the house. Jeremy was only playing with one chord.

My cousin Jeremy lived on an island surrounded by weavers of spells
He had once lived in Bristol but tired of its history and Isambard Kingdom Brunel
His wife was a memory that rarely concerned him she had left fourteen years before
With a man from the Gorbals whose tattoos were frightening but she found him attractive for sure

And Jeremy dreamed of the sun in the morning the moon in the evening and love inbetween
But all he discovered was frightening and tragic
He was yearning to wipe his hands clean
To start a new life in a place of redemption
In a home where his feet could stay warm
With a garden of riches to please and sustain him
Where new dreams could safely be born

She would smile every morning as she served up a cauldron of soup for the homeless and worn
Her hair tied in pigtails with ribbons and memories of the smell of his skin on her bones
A man fashioned in heartache took bread from her basket and whispered how gorgeous her smile
She folded the compliment into her torn coat
To absorb when she later had time

When they met she told Jeremy all of her stories
Embellished but warm to the touch
And she listened in silence as he gave her his best shot and she thought she could love him a lot
So they set up home and held hands in the evening and weaved up some magical dreams
She in a long dress he in a bow tie
They could dance on forever it seemed

My cousin Jeremy lived to be eighty sustained by the woman he loved
We never met her or heard her voice either
But Jeremy still felt her touch
When he died in his house we found letters and photos but no trace of the girl he’d admired It didn’t matter the lies had conspired to get Jeremy home to his love

"The Man Who Played One Chord"
by Radioontheshelf

2022 - Licensed under
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Attribution Noncommercial (3.0)

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