EXERCISING THE GASKETS
Time; Evanescence.
memory slips through fingers
left with vapor trails
Once upon a time i considered myself a poet. Who knows why. I think it was that i was decent at stringing words together to form ideas. And while prose took a certain amount of dedication, i could rattle off a few disjointed thoughts and call them poetry. I'm like the yankee doodle of meter. Of course i know poetry isn't that easy, but i was arrogant you see. At the time it was all about instant gratification. Nevermind thatnobody YOU didn't get it. Obviously my words are too deep for everybody YOU. Oh, and add to that the the fact that in first grade I won a poetry contest, among all the first graders in my school. I got to stand up at assembly and everything. Mmhhmm totally. A triumph that never lost its luster until i woke up, smelled those percolating coffee beans, and realized that i sucked. Reality bites you know?
Still, every once in a while i get the urge to dip my foot in some iambic pentameter -- until i remember i have neither the skill, nor the patience required for that kind of composition. That's why haikus were invented. They require even the most hamfisted person to be brief - and evocative. Maybe. Kind of.
So, for the last hour i've been listening to classical, writing haikus. (yes, i too am laughing and rolling my eyes at the "erudite" scene.) Inspiration came from admiring my fellow blogger's skill at verse. Reading her work made me want to try my hand once again at an art form that eludes me -- just as that whale did to that guy in that book.
Today's musical selection (Do yall even listen to these things?) Is a classical piece i've been repeating all evening -- Camille Saint- Saens' Danse Macabre. Danse Macabre is the medieval allegory on the plurality of death. It represents all classes of society, and the fact that none of us can escape its grasp. The musical piece is based on a poem written by goethe.
It has a very eerie sound, a jolting rhythmic structure and a driving timpani which I love. Enjoy.
Camille Saint -Saens - Danse Macabre
memory slips through fingers
left with vapor trails
Once upon a time i considered myself a poet. Who knows why. I think it was that i was decent at stringing words together to form ideas. And while prose took a certain amount of dedication, i could rattle off a few disjointed thoughts and call them poetry. I'm like the yankee doodle of meter. Of course i know poetry isn't that easy, but i was arrogant you see. At the time it was all about instant gratification. Nevermind that
Still, every once in a while i get the urge to dip my foot in some iambic pentameter -- until i remember i have neither the skill, nor the patience required for that kind of composition. That's why haikus were invented. They require even the most hamfisted person to be brief - and evocative. Maybe. Kind of.
So, for the last hour i've been listening to classical, writing haikus. (yes, i too am laughing and rolling my eyes at the "erudite" scene.) Inspiration came from admiring my fellow blogger's skill at verse. Reading her work made me want to try my hand once again at an art form that eludes me -- just as that whale did to that guy in that book.
Today's musical selection (Do yall even listen to these things?) Is a classical piece i've been repeating all evening -- Camille Saint- Saens' Danse Macabre. Danse Macabre is the medieval allegory on the plurality of death. It represents all classes of society, and the fact that none of us can escape its grasp. The musical piece is based on a poem written by goethe.
It has a very eerie sound, a jolting rhythmic structure and a driving timpani which I love. Enjoy.
Camille Saint -Saens - Danse Macabre
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2 comments:
I do listen to the songs, so dont stop posting them. And poetry absolutely, positively SUCKS. And I say this because I cannot do it with any degree of skill.
Rashad
Poetry does suck. LOL. Remember in the early 2000s when everyone was a poet? I went to TOO many poetry readings back then. Feigning interest at all the saul williams and ursula rucker wannabees. UGH.
sitting in cafe's pretending to be deep...head wraps... hearing folks greet others with the word "hotep".
*shudder*
but seriously, i can enjoy some poetry when it seems genuine, not contrived or a SLAM ripoff.
thanks for listening to the songs. what did you think of this piece?
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