Home » Poems » Briauna Brown » Think, Feel, Share

Think, Feel, Share

I sit down in my cold, stone seat and shuffle sheets of music,
Arranging them in different ways from fast-paced to acoustic.
Spanning collective scales, bars and notes and lines,
I've read through them all before at least one hundred times.

      Flats are feeble, sharps are sour,
      Notes sound better by the hour.
      Staccatos sound short while fermatas feel full,
      Using the skills I have learned in school.

            The second ending comes; the closure is in progress,
            The note subsides, applause, success.

                But something's not right,
                The feeling's all wrong.
                I played the music right,
                But my music's not a song.

I lean astern in the chair and allow my eyes to look in wonder,
Running through the countless notes, the rhythms I do ponder.
I score all pianissimos, all the slurs and all the rests,
If I want to earn that solo, I have got to do my best.

      I feel the emotion behind each bar and try to connect my thoughts,
      The sound is closer to a struggle, this section sounds distraught.
      The upcoming crescendo should be more moderate than the next,
      The following is voluminous, the feeling is perplexed.

           I’ve played the piece how it’s written and still can’t find the problem,
           Recollecting every note from the top and to the bottom.

                But what's so rotten about the composure?
                The underlying message needs exposure.
                Throw out the sheets, throw out the score,
                Think about the music, but feel it more.

I close my eyes and let the notes meander,
They’ll fall in time but let them show candor.
Forget about the fundamentals if only for a while,
Think about the notes overflowing, in what way or in what style.

      Sense the rise and fall with every breath excused,
      Notice the flurry of sounds meant to confuse.
      Draw in and release in unison tempo,
      I see a breath mark and make a memo.

          If I really push the messages through the sound,
          The pieces come together, an answer I have found.

            Now we've played so well that it is no surprise,
            How the feelings brought such tears to our eyes.
            Captivated the audience with our musical best,
            Our concert can now finally end with this success.

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