reprint of a poem I posted in tell Pink a long time ago...

most people on this forum probably don't remember it so I thought I'd repost:) It encapsulates what I think about Pink as an artist...


Into this instant
she pours her being
as if the ocean were
swallowing the town
it once gave birth to,
to give back the thing
she got from above,
again and again to shine strong
and break their
illusion, the thing they
can’t take because
she is who she is
in a place where
the face by the door
is concrete.

More than they can handle
but they learn to, the sounds
of jubilant precision chaos;
the instruments, the keys,
the strings, the voices,
the words she writes
that open up from her
very center, and sings:
all roads lead to one.

In her language, music
and love are the same
word.

that's a beautiful poem Anacreon nice to see you here buddy!

Very nice.