Listening again and this time
seeing through that maze of
time-warped insincerity, able
to hear Freddie Mercury make
rare sense in moments where
new insights are germane
But he was more than a view
to feeling things exactly – and
at a time when it was right. So
the tears are still salt and real
just like at the last Wembley
concert that magic night
An occasion – too dear to put
paid to rumours Queen was a
figment of imagination, or an
astral aberrancy ascendant in
an infatuated world crazed by
symbolic vagueness
Strains of Bohemian Rhapsody
cleanse the soul and make us
complete in a way no other
‘beat’ music was meant to
be able – a rhapsodisation of
Freddie’s unique spirituality
© 23 April 2011, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment