the unknowable transforming point 46/50

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

Through the piano box

Real fallopian bergman how come
it was all go and comforting
to be sized and sifted through the piano box
and ticked like there was no tomorrow
pressure under pressure bearing down
grey sky and steel cold rain on the shoulders
of flowers in the rain coat
i’ve got mine anyway
slide strings and orchestral intonations
wild and unkempt with maggie’s farm
and what did that mean
who wants to write a song about that
pasty face
brown beige beige
beige that’s what
make mine a bechstein thank you
bust of handel on my desk
where did that radio come from by the way
slog slog on chopin study
excruciating performance in class
what art of class was that exactly
what # vVvVv
not understand
really I think lindy was better adjusted to tell you the ficfuc truth
who
she did not come till later
what you meant was she was not there
was she there?
no she was not
don’t tell the russians

Watching her play

But over there by the window watching her play
her strong back facing me and powerful spaniards lament
from time to time pedalling and fine rubato
languish and looks
so easy oh
breathing and silent looking on
what do think of that
swivel turn
how impinging on fragile consciousness
to be laden with unforgettable lead into a long story
of a famous pianist
her teacher x used to say
and did I ever tell you about the time
when x
and the thrilling excitement of listening to disks
vinyl concertos
watch it all in realtime
again this buried shifting sand
in the room beige grey and no paintings on the wall
not like the strange efforts
on the psychiatrist wall some twenty one years later
how come
too much time out of the room
to stay in there and receive
and stay in attachment
the four winds unpinned in time
with the les adieux and various movements in f sharp major

Green room

Cadence and childlike state
now make sure the stool’s at the correct height
but that’s the last thing
green room
fright panic
usual state of affairs
white blouse
black skirt
you can do it
and walk slow to the side and bow carefully
then sit seated
no way to get through l’isle joyeux
but finished before you know
art of europe 2 cellos cacophony
probably the deconstruction
so safe
not certain so
ficfuc get out of here
dance with me a little dance
and that was the other things
before all that
there were other cold breezes and air
and towers falling
and the old collard
how can you tell a green field
it was to do with the verandah
light on the right
quiet space
away from the pressure that’s what
flying over backwards it appears different
let’s talk generalities specifics not
how did it all gather pace so surreptitiously
such astounding her thought
thinking for oneself not
not advisable and yet
whoever heard of time twins and arrondissement
when the shallow waters metered mirrors and sky
in a landscape
keep the pedal down
would have been much more accessible
a real life case
not a wall hanger
bas bleu
and finally stayed that last day
only to walk right out of the portal not thinking whether I would return

Beat beat

The place in my head cemented and ached
how could it be said to have been otherwise
that oasis space place room where pressure was just as you please
beat beat
beat place
round in circles and back again
how the song grows and tide race
links links not relevant
and not invented not
make a drop of sunshine rain sound silver
in the debussy lighter than the lights
I touch
touching ivory and tree
not so illicit then the ivory slivers
and there was no tomorrow
finnegans wake and whatsoever
dry eyes in the house
into summer and the cherry blossom

A bout of block

I could hardly spend my time wondering
about pinning myself together
a bout of block it all out was the best I could do
get on with it
but now the cracks appear and the sighs at scream level
at a moments notice
appear when something reminds you of the gap chasm rift
ripped unconsequentially through like an incision
quickly executed and resewn
as if some unopportunistic upside down
oops let’s forget and never mention it again
yet the start of a repetition remembering
wisp of an unopen serenity
bares down down down
to the core psychology
just when I thought
I needed smile approval
everyone happy except me
panic where’s my room
and my piano music stuff
not 2 months or 4 years without
drive me undriven into a ditch
save save me unstill waters

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Author: LindyK

Composer/ Pianist/ Writer www.virginiaaurorascott.co.uk

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