The Trapeze Swinger

or, structure, sound, tension, and meaning

I wanted to talk briefly about one of my favorite songs. It’s by Iron & Wine, who I was fortunate to see live several years ago. Doubly fortunate, he played this song.

Rather than get deep on something, I thought we could roll along top today and play around in a song.

Or if you don’t want to listen on youtube.

Please, remember me
Happily
By the rosebush laughing
With bruises on my chin
The time when
We counted every black car passing
Your house beneath the hill
And up until
Someone caught us in the kitchen
With maps, a mountain range,
A piggy bank
A vision too removed to mention
But

One funny thing about writing about a song that you’ve listened to thousands of times is that I can hear it when I read it.

It begins with only the guitar but by the time Sam Beams sings, he surrounded by a chorus of voices harmonizing and the other instruments fill out the song, giving it a texture of longing, of soft reverie.

Here we have the beginnings of a romance, seemingly, but looked back on from the present. This all happened long ago.

We were once so young, hurting ourselves, lazing away days, throwing our bodies into one another. A budding love. A dream of going far away together. Of being together always and on into forever.

Remember me happily.

Such a specific kind of word.

Should you remember me as happy or should you feel happy when you remember these days? Or both?

Probably both.

I also love the rolling nature of the song. Rather than lead us to a chorus, we’re instead tumbling into the next verse.

Please, remember me
Fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then
They went on to say
That the pearly gates
Had some eloquent graffiti
Like 'We'll meet again'
And 'Fuck the man'
And 'Tell my mother not to worry'
And angels with their gray
Handshakes
Were always done in such a hurry
And

Here even more instruments join in, as if Sam Beam is our Pied Piper picking up errant musicians as we walk the halls of memory.

Remember me fondly.

Again, an ask and a request and a doubling of intentions, but maybe most: look back upon these days fondly.

But then, immediately, we’re jumping back to the present. You’re still pretty. But I’m not with you. I am gone. Perhaps to death, for today, here and now, the person who told me that you’re pretty is also telling me of the graffiti upon the pearly gates.

And maybe the pearly gates as a metaphor has gone out of style our out of common lexicon. I don’t know what the youths say is what I’m getting at. But on the chance you don’t know, they’re talking about the gates to heaven.

The graffiti is eloquent, which is a funny and surprising image, especially when considering what the graffiti reportedly says: Fuck the man and We’ll meet again and Tell my mother not to worry.

For the dead, even at heaven’s gates, think of us. Remember us. Look back down upon us.

And perhaps these taggers are those left outside, forbidden from God’s shine.

And so Fuck the man they write, eloquently.

The angels come and take our hands and drag us from this mortal flesh to the skies above, to those gates of judgment, with the guitar bending sonically.

And then we’re rolling onto the next verse with a bit of flourish.

Please, remember me
At Halloween
Making fools of all the neighbors
Our faces painted white
By midnight
We'd forgotten one another
And when the morning came
I was ashamed
Only now it seems so silly
That season left the world
And then returned
And now you're lit up by the city
So

Remember me, not in a way, but at a time: Halloween.

A Halloween we spent laughing at first together but, during the course of the party, we lost track of each other. Perhaps we fought or simply went to bed in icy silence.

Come morning, I was ashamed of myself for what seems an insignificant reason, now, here, where I am. But at the time, it was so large.

And time took us away, carried us on, and the seasons rolled past, and then came back again to wash over us in autumnal light once more. Like always. Yearly. Ever.

And like the seasons, like time, forever rolling past us, the structure of the song mirrors this. All the enjambment, the polysyndetons, the assonance all keep us moving, flowing, and turning inward, spinning, reflecting, and rolling onward.

Please, remember me
Mistakenly
In the window of the tallest tower call
Then pass us by
But much too high
To see the empty road at happy hour
Leave and resonate
Just like the gates
Around the holy kingdom
With words like 'Lost and Found' and 'Don't Look Down'
And 'Someone Save Temptation'
And

Remember me without my flaws. Remember me the way I wasn’t. Let your memories of my failures and ruinous behaviors fail.

Please, don’t remember me the way I was.

I look down from the gates of heaven, obsessed with you, with us, with this, rather than the judgment coming.

The gates rattle and resonate from those of us waiting, shaking, begging to be welcomed in.

And more graffiti. Lost and Found - a funny phrase, here. And I ignore the rest and do look down to see you. To watch you. To wish a remembering upon you.

Please, remember me
As in the dream
We had as rug-burned babies
Among the fallen trees
And fast asleep
Aside the lions and the ladies
That called you what you like
And even might
Give a gift for your behavior
A fleeting chance to see
A trapeze
Swing as high as any savior
But

Remember me like a dream. Please.

Dream of beauty, of softness, of trees surrounding, of lions taming, of ladies so gentle and kind, gifting us for who and what we are.

Remember me like this. When we fell asleep surrounded by nature, our slumbered bodies entwined, our dreams merging as one.

Life is not a dream, however, and life is chaos. A circus.

We are but the trapeze balancing precariously, trying to make our way through. And I needed you.

We needed each other, or so I believed. So I told you and myself.

And we sought salvation and even thought we saw it as we stood there on the tightrope above swirling chaos.

Please, remember me
My misery
And how it lost me all I wanted
Those dogs that love the rain
And chasing trains
The colored birds above there running
In circles round the well
And where it spells
On the wall behind St. Peter's
So bright with cinder gray
And spray paint
'Who the hell can see forever?'
And

Remember my misery.

How I lost everything. How I broke us apart. How my failures could no longer be ignored but had to be dealt with, confronted.

I was lost, even with your guiding hand. I ran and threw my heart away, shattered our love in search of pleasure, in novelty, like dogs dancing in the rain, like birds flying overhead, ignorant or uncaring for us below.

Who the hell can see forever? I read and remember the cycle of days and how it lost me all I wanted.

Please, remember me
Seldomly
In the car behind the carnival
My hand between your knees
You turn from me
And said 'The trapeze act was wonderful
But never meant to last'
The clown that passed
Saw me just come up with anger
When it filled with circus dogs
The parking lot
Had an element of danger
So

Don’t remember me.

Let me be as an echo in your life. A touch. A whisper. A fleeting pleasure. A presence.

A singular moment.

I once told you that a moment is all we have. A moment of perfection.

It’s all we can ask of perfection. Of beauty.

Our life is chaos, a swirling cacophony of lions and carnival barkers, but, for that instant, we were high above, balanced there, shining bright against the lights.

And then it passed.

My anger.

My self hatred. My mocking words and stupidity, my thoughtless actions.

I scared you.

Please, remember me
Finally
And all my uphill clawing
My dear
But if I make
The pearly gates
Do my best to make a drawing
Of God and Lucifer
A boy and girl
An angel kissing on a sinner
A monkey and a man
A marching band
All around the frightened trapeze swingers

Remember me only one more time. This final moment.

With the piano rising and all the instruments here with me, begging you one last time.

Forgive me.

---

I love narrative poetry and I love songs that capture that as well. Give me a song about a sailor and a boat over one turned inward and I’ll become a fan for life, probably.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.