General Poetry posted October 1, 2019


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Poem : free topic

Kenwood

by tempeste

My father's turnabout
I treasure much.
It's a Kenwood from the 70s
and despite it's half a century
it still plays heavenly.

In a world where even
the oldest soundtracks
are now available at a finger's touch,
I stand faithfully to the glorious vinyl
considered by today's impatient
generation a hassle.

Playing records is a ritual,
a somewhat spiritual,
visual, musical experience.

It's a series of motions
that create overwhelming emotions:
that's what it's all about.

The quality of the sound
may not be top all around
but there is something
viscerally gratifying in
handing a vinyl,
flipping it over,
giving it a wipe
and placing the needle down.





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