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topic: can't hit the notes
by Rachelle Howelife is a bandstand.
i've been sitting on
street corners with
piles of books and loose leaf
information
the four-four time with which i hold myself
rock myself
to sleep when i can curl
into the slumber of dissonance.
and there is little left to learn,
but much to swallow
when the pied piper comes:
i will never be a soloist.
i will never hold the brass quartet.
i will never have your crucifix mounted
on flesh that widdles and is wandered through.
i will never own an opera company.
i will never be stage worthy.
i will never do thirty crunches a day while
you chant from over my shoulder.
i will never cherish the babies that were smothered
by mothers who couldnt remember their children's names.
i will never understand that delusion
is the marksmanships of disproportionate suffering.
(but while i am listless
i will be remembered
by the key notes i strained to hit
and the hoarse throat that sang
submission.)
11/08/2004 Author's Note: hm. a different tone from me these days. and i'm not quite sure how much i swallow, yet. ;) *editeditedit*
Posted on 11/08/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/09/04 at 02:56 PM I like and prefer this much more than some of your other recent posts Rachel...toned down but thought provoking...spiritually disturbing. I especially like the lines in italics. |
| Posted by Don Coffman on 11/11/04 at 01:58 AM Topics! I'm so glad they're still being passed around. *smile* I'm fascinated by your words as ever.
Hmm. Life is a bandstand, a neat twist on the worn out old saying about the world being a stage. Being a little out of practice with my constructive criticism though, I think I'll have to leave this with an approving *clap* for now. I might be able to just get by with telling you how nifty it was? :D |
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