sudden hacks
nervous like city fox
under the humdrum hush
of the house lights
from lungs and throats
semi-stalled
then the crinkly unwrapping
and the hollow sucks
of the house candy
relentless
bronchial
incompatability
meanwhile
from the female torso
the atonal
grinds on
and on
only to fade
to shivering silence
before the end
and the slow opening of doors
c) Gwilym Williams
2008
8 comments:
love it
john
Aye!
Gwilym
20/20 Vision
20 men on a bus station
squinting through their cameras
snapping in 20 directions
Love the poem - sounds like so many concerts I have been to!
yes, it's that time of year again, the concert coughing season is underway - didn't spoil my recent visit to the opera Queen of Spades by Tchaikovsky! Osawa conducting from memory. The man's a genius even if he's pushing 80. Magnifico!
How many poems are so full of noise? I found it really effective. It also reminded me of the fantastic footage I saw of Simon Rattle stopping the Rite of Spring on account of a mobile phone and starting again!
I know I'm in a minority, but I must confess a weakness for a good atonal grind...
Thanks Dominic!
Your Simon Rattle story reminds me of the time I saw the great German language actor Martin Schwab in a play in Vienna. He suddenly stopped acting, went to the front of the stage and slowly and with deliberation took a neatly folded handkerchief from his trouser pocket and gently coughed into it (the hankie I mean not the pocket).
Sounds like you might have been enjoying the sounds of the audience a bit more than the cellist!
Dominic, who commented on my atonal poem cello solo you may like to revisit, a suitable length of time having elapsed, and view an image. It's a beautiful creation. There are still reasons for living.
Post a Comment