aphrodite chancing 17




listening to

18 pianos

john cage

give way

before you know you know

you have the project you hear

tucked up inside

meaningful in it’s gestation

spearing into

the foamy travelling tide



Virginia Aurora Scott 2017

the unknowable transforming point 126/130

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

The little chink

The thought arose that it was all go
time to go then
this ravel unravel
unravelling unravel
now dense as the ravel
the denser the ravel
the slow motion unravel
first a sound a resonance a question
a tone
a shift or change of
is there room for the little light
enlight me
little space for a lighter
unlight the space
lighter than light
in the core of the cross
is the little light
lighter than light
open an opening
a little chink
the chink

The longing

Slow motion chink as tender light
soft candle less flame not flicker
just as steady chink
a drawing to intensibility
the light that was always there
the longing long unravel realisation
an apparent absence
and facing of the thereness of it all


A piano
I saw it
thought I could play
sat there
learned to play
thought I could play
I saw it a piano
a piano I saw it
thought I could play
sat there learned
sat there
thought I could play
was it a piano
a piano
I saw it
thought I could play
sat there unplayed
I learned learning
sat there played
thought I could play
I saw it
a piano
the learned making friends
with the inner pianists
there was the one fragment
the piano
I see it
I sit there
thinking I could play
the learning
I sit there
thinking I could play
I see it
the piano
I can play
word play
sound play
inside out
the piano
I see it
thinking I could play
thinking I could play
words play
the piano
I sit there
write through
write through
right on
it gets better
it flows
and it follows
the piano
and the thinking


As I scribble

Somehow connect vibration of the pencil
through the wooden table
as I scribble something briefly
and what if not
looking about ahead
in front of that I will get better
or what
means the present is lost
so it’s a process of losing identification
slowly the pieces removing unmoved
better to see today being itself
itself holding a pen running out of ink
as it skates across a page with lines
convenient grey lines and margin for error

No terror

The day is the day
no terror is likely
getting about this pencil of mine
swallowing the ink smell and ink miles
tracing travels over word valleys
and someone word weather willows
the start
the middle
the end of the period
from some minutes
or whatever it takes to write the dangerous dubiousness
uneasy habit of drawing conclusions based on
drawing (art open creative)
conclusion (end fixed)
to draw to a close
the day drew to a close
however less miles now
as the pen is really running out of ink
must get more pens when I’m up there
and that will be that
it scurries
it’s scurrilous

Picture this

It’s getting near dark
till the stars will not show through today
as the sky seems quite grey now
next door light in the bottom left of four windows
silent street and piano plunge
picture this
I fill the page
I start a nine
starting at nine
finishing at ten
writing most days

the unknowable transforming point 106/110

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

The grey sky

The next night well
will go on
when the karpestra mcnairs
had not inconsiderable dramas and mellows in their lives
first second and third the grey sky faced long tall window room
contents two pianos
one challen upright
two steinway grands with glossy cover and keys
schumann papillons by the way
a karpestra favourite
lindy’s mother lilliana had performed this frequently
for radio transylvania
when little tours were arranged
as a way of connecting with the ancestrals

Waiting to sprout

Bulbs hidden
in the dark cupboard
waiting to sprout for spring
quiet musty smell

The S programmes

what a typical concert programme for lilliana could have been
the following
rather eccentrically concentric
arranged by alphabet
soler fandango schumann papillons interval
a typical s programme
sexias soler scarlatti scriabin schubert schumann sgambati
make up a programme of ridiculous combinations
for lilliana henderson
lindy and wafer
stopped started
that’ll be the day
ah ok
a typical programme consisting of pieces composers letter s
by lilliana henderson
one soler fandango schumann papillons interval
sexias sonatas selection schubert die wanderer fantasie
encore clara schumann
two stogers fantasie scriabin sonata fantasie interval
scarlatti sonatas selection schubert sonata in a minor
encore schumann lied ohne ende
three sweelinck fantasia schumann sonata in g minor interval
soler sonatas selection scriabin sonata
encore clara schumann

S towns to play

Entered into the chain of s towns to play
stirling salzburg san francisco
and sunderland swansea stuttgart
set up imaginary programmes
imaginary pianist
entered the chain of s towns to play
stirling salzburg san francisco sunderland swansea stuttgart
set up imaginary programmes
imaginary pianist


one soler fandango schumann papillons interval
sexias sonatas selection schubert die wanderer fantasia
encore clara schumann
two stogers fantasia scriabin sonata fantasia interval
scarlatti sonatas selection schubert sonata in a minor
encore clara schumann
three sweelinck fantasia schumann fantasy interval
soler sonatas selection scriabin vers la flamme
encore clara schumann
s programmes
01 soler fandango schumann papillons interval
seixas sonatas schubert die wanderer fantasie
encore scriabin prelude
02 stogers fantasie scriabin sonata fantasia interval
scarlatti sonatas schumann fantasie
encore c.schumann andante con sentimento
03 sweelninck praeludium toccata schumann sonata in g minor interval
sexias sonatas schubert sonata in a minor
encore scriabin
encores clara schumann scriabin preludes
lilliana henderson
clara schumann

the unknowable transforming point 71/ 75

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

Nae Chance

A man at the monday door and sun evening everyone opening not me
start on a fresh page after telephone interruptions
and someone knocking at doors
with funny little look at me with my paper
that never happened in day one
after the war things were quiet and shellshocked
it was all over
make it nice
and keep it up that chin
friends school with surrealism
disabled people who ache
torrents of scales piano tuners
limpid white stick
and hope the idiot from organics I think that’s the knocker just goes
slime away
nae chance
and back to the flow six doors down
it was as if nothing mattered
just absenting oneself from something
one had madder rose in the water colour box
it was all go
enter the entering into floral catastrophes
and breech cells in three turned spin
in electrical nodes of microwave accumulation
fixed point of reference invisible
when it’s always changing according to whatever opinion reigns at any one point
split the difference
at the grand piano and work at the meaning
if only one had the time
railways and timetables

Flesh tint

There were three door canvases to come
flesh tint black and white
the story of the exhibition barely uncurled
when it was time to know about the dust underneath the piano
resounding at four 33” of the clock
nearly time to catch the bus and ficfuc home
this a monstrously well behaved behaviour
and stay in that box for decades why don’t you
let me out the box squeaked
the particle past participle clenching her first
to pound these keys cluster
the irate part of the arc of sans
in time with the explorative gesture
on an ancient keyboard recording
the resonance for samples to be
the electronic she swim
swirls sound of integral sophisticated phone you back later
oops not
leave a message why don’t you
when it’s ok to let the lasciare vibrare stop
it can go on longly
33 mins to four
that sounds better
feel the notes and arm weight
gestures more of less controlled
lots of fingering and spy work to inherit the gists
think think how the time goes
have to leave it till next time
when after I read the introduction
it was safe to scan the horizon
for any advancing obstacles
which amazing extrapolation smacked the fingers with authority
according to my imaginary landscape


In a landscape not my piece
but cage it in all words most frowned
but like it or not
she stood proud in her it’s like that then like this
which fingering did you not use
he was thin and whiney
and made us read from a book
academic funny old stuffy stuff
made to feel sick and terrorrified
nothing to do with piano
where’s the piano


Panic a long line of panics before it was splash some paint
so tight buttoning behaving like two clean socks
and ignoring the sharp pain in your belly
cold wind train in a short skirt
time to go home again
stair rod of rain wet leather back
and cello also
on transport raised a huge hilarity
all round ok
bully bully don’t look back
past the keep your eyes on the cello
and hands on face to hide my derision
quite place travel travel long
bus dark
night drops of cold rain
anhydrous in the cold cold night

Forever and piano smell

I need to sleep
I need to weep
my father was gone
lit another cigarette on the way
its’ minty cool and softening
feel swirly smoke floundering in the dampness
and drunk man about
that’s what I keep remembering back there
about the danger
panic growing up in pan tonal crepuscular blast
what’s behind me don’t look back
stay quiet
don’t comment
observation inksmell
these orchestral chords
and inside it’s sound
like the centre of the earth cello space
forever and piano smell

the unknowable transforming point 51/ 55

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

Mend me

I ‘m still her
and mend me little child
overwhelming sounds of prokofiev
hold my child in my arms and weep radio 3
lindy k looks blank when I tell her this
as in all retrograde and regression
into a life unrecognisable too long ago
let’s blur the canvas a bit
let’s play some schumann 2 pianos
mind the tempos dear
lavender sweetness
and tempting toe pedal of her foot underneath
too high off the floor to reach
paintings of scotland firths and aquarelles
stitched abandon
grand laughter and stories offend her code of behaviour
and she stands piercing eyes in your direction
and what about the embrace
traffic traffic
every mile a slow one
to beatable destination forwarding messages
head filled

Timing collisions

Roll brahms and the timing collisions of 90
and let let what corrections
to be repeated next time
forgetting to communicate
never forgot to communicate in reality ficfuc what you think people would like to hear
be kinder and gentler in traumerei
what did the piano say today
listz and schubert
so beat beat heavenly unreal
so in the cream crosslight staring at the vent
it became apparent that no one could assist
in the visions time and place
sparingly grotesque
grow growing
increase diminishing
decrease as per norms
norms as we hear
sentimentally positioned music to old films intensity
and bite bit trembles in our own filmery box

Hey you

Behind the looking glass and fine wines
courtesy of the gloomy bastard in the corner
to pull out of a tight corner
to conversation please
hey you
aye you
no the newspaper
no the day jimmy
dumbarton rd thick dust and staircase in big flats
mid victorian black doors
and inside the mess of family dashed to work
and egg pots in the sink
but very learned apology
of look here not
there’s a lovely piano of course
among the miles of books
that or then
try fasting when soft pages run
rant run however snails pace
you can always try reading it backwards for a change
friends and films
and rushing home
on on on and on
carefully painting quavers and minimising realities

Ovaries of thought

Quando fits never never to return
the graceful edges overlapping
and flowing with definition
ovaries of thought and quiet processes
implanting forays
ignition delayed
as therefore the underlay of deep abandonment lay dormant apparently
but 4’33” minutiae
forty resonances
waves of micro radiation
hit my head now
and spin one
and one
and it’s a big one
nevertheless in the store had to exit quickly
and in a landscape imagine i’m by the sea
drink me
where are we safe now
formulations and irritability and sizzle
resonances we never never had predicted
the mandelbrot of resonances
microwaves and soft listening
little tunes are flowing catching air tunes
a sky above surface
and it’s all around
can you hear me inaudibility
invisibility of tide rush
wave upon wave
some times caught in the crossfire of the pulses
I sway
sometimes quietly
sometimes quite in the depth of my base brain spine and feet


1996 3 pianos
the de-electrification of 21st century
long time predictive words and notes and notes
impossibility to realise this in performance
more work of art
and yet how come I thought about this then
pin yourself together out loud
in the sense that a song or three arrived
and inevitably I listened
inner voice
ficfuc out of the forest of masts and towers
dodge in out of the zap zones
as is
not as was
no such thing in the day of it was all go
now this wireless max head compression
thoughts and answers
bit bit scrambled turbation
wrack your brain
you know something’s making presence
in the little deep bit of your ear
inaudible formatting
sending receiving
collisions in the microwave desert
at the base of the brain
look out
it happened to me
it happened to me
just around the time
I was mentally soft spiring spiralling
it’s spiralling
quick zap spiral under energy saving bulb
and that ficfuc apology for illumination baden
take down fake fakery
life outside the piano room barely audible
vernal equinoctial descent
minor saline drip
and cohesion
as the little red car bleeped every time someone passed
or some traffic
except sundays
save time in car park and ruffle the environmental placidity
watch over to reach that stage
ie once pinned together the trick is to keep afloat

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
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

the unknowable transforming point 21/ 25

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

Accent accent

Pin yourself together
pin yourself together down the steep stairs on to the landing
light through the little window on the door
to see you playing plain instrumental with back to the door
and music stance standing there
intent on the mind motion
pin yourself together
was that what she meant
when the page turned swiftly
too soon
so the page curled back
suspense while it made it’s little journey back
with a flick between finger ascent
accent accent
too late
lately the shadows fell too early across the tron
and bass string of piano tenths length
sound in the cream crosslight

Shortness of pause

Ah it was friday again
but I missed the bus and ran breathless
reached the pin together
from the wrest plank
up in the lift with him
and now that left imagining
to some repair and time tuck
anxiety of what came from the down draft
if I sat there long enough the piano could play itself
into the mist of time
pin herself together
with shortness of phrase
leave time in between
grow the slow line
carapace the pace
and look for the pause
and breath while you can before the schneller comes
ah yes

What if

What years and life of volcano diaries
were to come from that ostrich pluming into the sun graves
of slower than grave
it used to be all go when she entered
and sat played slender scales
with lively brown hair and right excuses
no what if what if not
could be not only and only could be not only
why scales and piano key geography
geographical layers
and tiny tune repeat itself repeat and on and endlessly
where in the loop can you edit the line
or just tilt it in
and loose time stretch time to make it skip
ectopic beat piano
ectopic plan layers in climb and retro climb
and ps it affects my laptop
red car bleep when bleep
what if it was 4.33
and if not why not
who looks at the screen like that
when simply everyone had
no emendation of a time close to a slow sway

Down Street

When she sat on her high horse eating lindt chocolate
lindy placed put the tea down
and laid her hands on mine
down street down down down
she shone her smile and remind
do the arpeggios now
no time for the majors
through minor and like it
then the brahms per favore
oh such a pin yourself
in pin in pin
ten of the other preludes for next time voice

Pin it

Rush rush rush of blood to the heart
broken beat hammer
and look out for the change of signatures
pin it pin it can’t control it
soft behind the bobbinet
my fingers still play these patterns
left in my brain and bereft
left right in my sunshine shoulder sky looking on
ten concertos are folding jazz fold barenboim
that lovely sounding and now deep deep sounding
can only be there because of you
and now classic your gone
inked the pen
wiped of playing
and her shiny storm
over the keys light fingers
and free unattachable nice nine ninety pins and wrest plank