Wednesday, April 28, 2010


...and possible 28, 29, 30. Was all productive this morning. (When I plan to go the gym, is this my brain's way of thwarting me? This compulsion to actually write poems for the first time in a while...) Let's see what happens tomorrow, eh?

The Marriage of Figaro—Overture



So bounding in the slippage

& the abyss trap door, tripping

makes the rise so so

makes the fall so so

O sigh, O try


this dance yr arms

my arms

swing wide


O joy


& bang this buzz into


O light in the window


is what it means to sing

then crash from each lash

lashing onto wings onto singing each fringe forages our legs waging war against the floors


against the floors

stepping forward

toward this light wick


bounding again, rising, rising


the fringe, the war, the floors lashing the feet the light to our bodies in such urgent sprawl that we feel only the moving feel only the lightning in the darkest winter like starnight inviting unites

Clarinet Concerto—I. Allegro



O sway in and drip

this lilting lilting

so too repeating and


felt into this quick tip

of ink trills that tendrils whispers


sew happiness in the wind & field

this fielding hill so sweep

the day sweep sky sweep

away like happy having




O sing! O love!


how the morning lifts sun

if luck


or storm the world the room with water

flooding out each stinking

weather clement


time in fever—



down into a low note


so slow

for pause

to remember



like fingers in ears

on cheeks

the smear

of passing


and the lift of arms the lift of eyes the upwards momen of each single dripping bit of life that corners into each river swell


to push, to cure & push, in such a fast


sew the spinning world to a new day

Requiem in D Minor—Introitus: Requiem Aeternam



Enter opaque march in deep


burning—heats the heather


with seeding red.



Until her heart is in the room

singing pastoral.



What leaving feels. What leaving leaves


her heart sonorous—



A fire that baritones

a kindling of larynx.



And the pulse is biblical.



And we spin the dream, weave it

a ladder heavenward, saying "please—



And they keep their eyes

like their voices

in the chords.


O god—

they say.


O lord—



Katherine said...

Hey, these are pretty great! Tell me about your inspiration?

amber said...

Mozart, baby. All Mozart.