Sunday, February 2, 2014

Poetry about Musical Instruments: Playlist for January 31, 2014


by A. S. Maulucci



His tortured soul produced angelic sounds

and the sensitive spirit quivers

in glad harmony with the trembling strings.

The orchestra booms and echoes

a hard truth in sweet sadness.

My weeping soul follows

with tenderness and love

into the dark and twisting

chambers of the heart,

emerging triumphant onto a bright horizon

as if soaring on the delicate wings

of strong dragonflies and iridescent eagles.

REFLECTIVE MUSIC: Violin Concerto in D (Larghetto) by L. van Beethoven




Bass abstract 

b l u e s 

rippled thunder of forest deep 

spirit lord ~ melancholy essence 

so dark trembling and long your 



bow & string playful 

come to heaven double-octave surge 

thought ~ texture ~ romance ~ agony of souls 

ice cool mystery rippled


plucked strings as the serene of an orchid 

shaman's magic across Etruscan stones 

sound so very careful, pure & low 

down down below the last strand of imagining 

glory exalted ~ glory to God  

a shimmering dance  

your rapture 

traveling the pizzicoto vivace treble clef, 

spice road of bronze ebony 

baritone of an almost infinity. 


Cello, you do not know 

what a spell you caste over me!!
REFLECTIVE MUSIC: Suite in G for Cello, by J.S. Bach


The Nomad Flute
by W.S. Merwin

You that sang to me once sing to me now
let me hear your long lifted note
survive with me
the star is fading
I can think farther than that but I forget
do you hear me

do you still hear me
does your air
remember you
oh breath of morning
night song morning song
I have with me
all that I do not know
I have lost none of it

but I know better now
than to ask you
where you learned that music
where any of it came from
once there were lions in China

I will listen until the flute stops
and the light is old again

REFLECTIVE MUSIC: Fantasie for Flute and Piano by Phillipe Gaubert




By D.H. Lawrence

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.
REFLECTIVE MUSIC: Rhapsody in B Minor, Op. 79/1 by Johannes Brahms



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