the unknowable transforming point 211/ 215

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

In there alone

Unpin yourself
stay sat in solitude
in there alone
stare in space
hands quiet
at a keyboard of your choice
and breath in the somnambulism
quiet bursts in the room
mobile rings
and charging battery
chi e la
more excuses about unfinished work neglect
next his sister died
and he had to go home
last brahms in fact
unforgettable hikes with two cellos
and of course no one turned up

One way traffic

Little room
outside construction decibels
coffee trembling anxt
and just went home
after travelling through doors
smell of newly polished floor
whatever you do
don’t upstage the principal
ficfuc
it’s all that one way traffic again
no consultation
if I were you

Unperturbed

Next door she’s playing hymns
at half past four plus three minutes
leeks roasting roasted
toasted brain chill
and softer sheet
uncomfortable most of all
because it was nearly part of the dream
but little irish man was most welcoming
to be sure
white cottage land of milk
and honey bees in the attic
quire of paper
unperturbed as we entered later
or at that particular tick of the clock

Unplay

There was a synchronicity to the tango du reve
little known to me
a favourite of lindy’s
and cantabile
utterly puzzled about where the score went
in many years of the music boxes
the well spilled over thumbed torn and worn copy
must have been here
it’s all a little bilingual
thinking in one language
and talking in the other
but who would sit there like a statue and unplay
hold still
hold on a minute
hang on a minute
she sat there motionless
little girl at the big long piano
waiting for the sky to fall in
intermission advert
forever
the cinema all gone out
like baroque concert pandemic
swine laughter at the it’s got to stop
donkeys can’t play the piano
the dogfish tail
and pose at the piano keys
forgive and forget the music

Get a grip

Send a postcard with good wishes
there’s no one there lyric shot
get a grip
train’s on it’s way
up the line to somewhere
only 2 a day
but yeah
let’s go to somewhere
at the end of the line
for at least most of them
so how come they got nasty twinges

Advertisements

Author: Vv

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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s