An owed ode

We did this thing in a writing class years back, we were asked to write an ode. A poem of sorts. I thought about it a lot, and decided I couldn't do it.

I decided I didn't like the structure of an ode; and I also - at that time - didn't like the way poems ran all over the page, choosing their own path. I was sick of that; I thought it silly.

The reissues of Bob Dylan albums were out and I was taken with Planet Waves, because it was an album I had not listened to a great deal. I really liked the song Dirge.

And so - with that - I decided to play with the word ode. Deciding that an ode should be to someone you felt you owed something. A debt, of influence; of gratitude...whatever...

And so (with that) I wrote this:

Owed to Bob: (an ode to Dylan)

you singing "can't recall a useful thing/you ever did for me/'cept pat me on the back/one time, when I was on my knees", the voice appearing from above the mouth; the clang of oddly-tuned strings. The marvel of such things seems to be private mystery, the vast history of song outweighing any irony or sense that it's wrong to sing along to a song born before I was.

No need to rationalise the joy felt from hearing nascent urge to nazalise paths of pathos; word-wearable world-weariness, worn on sleeves of albums, setting records in getting fans to claim your greatness was in telling tales of theirs that were never there to be told. Tales that now have grown older than the latest group keen to claim you for their own. But to be owned is the reason you've rolled on alone, gathering no moss, and as you said, with no direction. The wise inflection of even your dumbest moves found its way on to record grooves proving your worth; even when you were at your worst, which is arguably better than many men's best.

And me, already planning a eulogy, since I'm younger than you, if just for the chance to pun on one of your works and call it Jingle-Jangle-Mourning, which will only ever be something for me to hope that you would like - and knowing you (which I don't, but I've learned more from your words meant for the stage than most words meant for the page) I'm sure you wouldn't like it all.

You'll relax now, in the current glory of blurred future past, knowing even if you never think it yourself, but with more people now to tell you than at one time would admit to listening to your songs - that you have done enough.

I promise I won't do this again - but I swear (it's F*&$ING true!) - I wouldn't have ever sat down to write this in the first place, if - again, as you were prone to say - not for you.

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If you had to write an ode to someone you felt you owed something - a musician; and just the one - who would it be? And why? And if you can keep it to 200 words or less then by all means jot your owed ode down below.

And if you don't want to do that then maybe you can think of your favourite songs that are in essence odes to other songwriters? Something like this perhaps?

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