"Spring being a tough act to follow, God created June." Al Bernstein
June’s moon illumines with gold light in a sapphire sky.
It’s as clear to me as a cloudless night summertime is nigh.
Though still-cool primrose evenings linger on from spring,
I listen for the sounds that warmer nights will bring:
crickets’ chirruping, whippoorwills in leafy trees. Sing,
oh lovely robin. Mockingbird, let me hear your charming croon.
Common loon, may I slumber to your haunting tune?
Sultry days mid-summer will be coaxing me to go
on long mid-afternoon walks to a yellow-flowered meadow.
Maybe I’ll go wading in cool water of a stream,
then lie beneath a willow and drift into a dream.
Fleeting is the sunny season; like my dreams, it too will end.
Then I will be writing of the beauty fall shall send.
Categories:
bernstein, summer,
Form: Rhyme
The Kennedy Center is known to the world
For honoring those in the arts –
From Ella Fitzgerald, Count Basie, Astaire,
Whose talents top all of the charts.
Sinatra, Gene Kelly, L. Bernstein, Kazan
And Benny and Lena and Merce,
Ray Charles, Lucille Ball, Isaac Stern and George Burns,
The list both profound and diverse.
Belafonte and Ailey and Hepburn and Peck,
Gillespie and Sondheim, the Who;
Aretha and Dylan and Kander and Ebb,
Judith Jamison, Chuck Berry, too.
Baryshnikov, Quincy, Paul Simon and Cash,
Warren Beatty, James Taylor and Cher;
Tina Turner and Spielberg and Barbra and Tharp,
Yo Yo Ma, Dustin Hoffman – all there.
Al Pacino and Elton, De Niro and Streep,
Lily Tomlin, Santana and Sting;
LL Cool J and Reba and Joni, Mel Brooks,
Lionel, Dick Van Dyke, Carole King.
There are more I’ve not mentioned, but going ahead,
It is going to be quite a shock
When the Kennedy Center will honor, perhaps,
Village People or maybe Kid Rock.
Oh, I fear for this country in so many ways
And it feels we’ve been stabbed in our hearts
With the Kennedy Center now being run
By a man with no stake in the arts.
Categories:
bernstein, art,
Form: Rhyme
In the heart of melodies, a a luminary arose,
Leonard Bernstein, whose brilliance still grows.
A maestro with a baton, a poet with a score,
In his music, he found what life yearned for.
With passion ablaze, he'd command the stage,
Each gesture a dance, each note a page.
From the grandeur of Beethoven's embrace,
To the jazzy rhythms that set hearts to race.
His spirit ignited in melodies profound,
With every crescendo, a world was found.
In the symphonic tapestry he'd unfold,
Beauty and chaos in harmonies bold.
From the streets of "West Side Story," a tale so bold,
To symphonic journeys, where stories were told.
His love for music, an unending flame,
In every note, he carved his name.
Yet behind the spotlight, a quieter scene,
Where strains of family life, at times, grew keen.
With a wife and kids, he sought to find,
Balance amidst the chaos of his creative mind.
Categories:
bernstein, music,
Form: Rhyme
The chatter of small birds frame a window of light.
My kettle is coughing; soon its shrill whistle
will startle me, even though I know exactly
when it will erupt.
Two pelicans have been sighted in Northern Ohio.
Elsewhere, the plague has been seen
crossing rivers on ferries and jet skis.
I pour morning tea, singing a tune
from 'West Side Story.'
‘Today I too, am Puerto Rican’ intones the ghost
of Leonard Bernstein to his open switch blade.
Many dead form a choral threnody.
Fox News and CNN, for once agree. Just kidding.
The birds sing something from ‘The Magic Flute.’
or Bohemian Rhapsody – hard to tell
but the tunes bring tears to the eyes
of truckers and nurses.
I imagine lost pelicans hitching a ride to Patagonia.
A first responder has reported blue sky’s
in Kentucky.
Death rattles - all things pass away singing
with their own tune
inside their own heads.
Categories:
bernstein, poetry,
Form: Free verse
hop
skip
jive,jump
run
toward
the sound:
be alive
glide
slide
turn
stop
and reflect
Inspired by YouTube clip of Bernstein Magnificent Seven theme
Categories:
bernstein, music,
Form: Verse
THE JEWELER’S LATHE
Summer’s last rose
After many admiring morning visits
And with nature’s rusty brown and gold
Surrounding, drawing comparison,
Becomes even more pink and beautiful
Being aware as being – native to all souls –
Nature strives to improve,
The old become new
New, alike the jeweler’s lathe
Polishing polishing
Refining awareness -
The familiar like a great Schubert string quartet
Suddenly with new revealing.
Leonard Bernstein says about music,
to the effect,
”An old friend becomes more dear”
Refining one’s awareness
There can be no drudgery,
But there must be effort,
Must be the look-through,
A soul’s effort to find.
Therein lies the beauty,
The finding.
When the diamond
Set to the jeweler’s lathe
Catches sun
Dave Austin
Categories:
bernstein, beauty,
Form: Free verse
Since “West Side Story” hit the stage,
No show could quite compare.
Such music, lyrics, dances, plot
Are magical and rare.
The gorgeous tunes you can’t forget
Are Bernstein at his best
And Sondheim’s words would leave the world’s
Top poets most impressed.
The choreography delights
With every Robbins move
And Arthur Laurents told the tale;
Will Shakespeare would approve.
I saw the play again today;
It never lets me down,
Deserving every accolade
That’s earned it its renown.
Categories:
bernstein, music,
Form: Rhyme
SYMPHONY
Searching the audience
Young and old in rapt attention
Maestro, Bernstein, has come on stage
Players have done their final warm up
House lights are dimmed
Only the foots and high spots remain
No one stirs, all are reverently expectant
You know this work – it’s Schubert – relax
Dave Austin
Categories:
bernstein, music,
Form: Acrostic
Bernstein Visits
by Odin Roark
Bernstein-infused reverie
Unexpected connections
Dissonance merging
Like Central Park
Pathways disappearing
Reappearing
Amidst boulder and street lamp
An urban forest
Accenting imagination's readiness
Aware
Knowing
His "Age of Anxiety"
Gathers its shadows
From late night echoes
Preparing celebration
An insomniacs dance of the mind
Imbuing joyful resonance in darkness
The inexhaustive consciousness enjoying
Needing not normal rest
Sleepers remain innocent
Even as they toss and turn
With dreamtime's warning
Tomorrow's anxiety
Restlessly awaits
Music's Bernstein
Bartok
Others
All abide after-dark listeners
When senses are most ready
To receive what they need
What is invisible by day
For others
Such innate ability
Is yet to be discovered
Or not
Categories:
bernstein, music,
Form: Free verse
No Maria -
when a Bernstein motif lingers.
No rosary beads -
they'll simply slip
through bourbon-stained fingers.
God carved the seven continents,
with skillful guise,
and Puccini cries.
Adam's rib was imminent
when his chest burst splinters
into a scorned dodger's eyes.
No Turandot tonight, please -
Father willed him this disease;
a cancerous curse
Ben's learned to despise.
No Rodgers -
when Oscar Hammerstein is dead.
No hammered halos -
they'll merely desecrate
the madman’s head.
Ben abandoned rued religion,
with toxic breath -
as Mimi wept.
Noah made a revision,
as the pairs filed two by two,
and into his mouth they crept.
No La Boheme, does he dote -
Mother’s cocktail glass
cuts his throat.
A souvenir,
from his childhood,
he’s kept.
No Sondheim -
when one loathes another's company.
No steel wool ragcloths -
to dry the bloodshot eyes of thee.
He minded the duet’s jargon
endorsing the macabre,
and Calaf sobbed.
Judas rethought the bargain,
knowing the silver pieces
wouldn’t save the soul he robbed.
A lost weekend sates Ben's day -
two severed hands on his chest,
he’ll lay; never feeling
a heart
that once throbbed.
Categories:
bernstein, on writing and words
Form: Rhyme
Mountains glow like amber
As being lit by an eternal fire
The sun sets slowly
Andean peaks embedded in clouds
Shadows spread on ancient sands
Berge glühen wie Bernstein
Wie durch ein ewiges Feuer entfacht
Die Sonne geht langsam unter
Anden Gipfel eingebettet in Wolken
Schatten ergießen sich auf altem Sand
Las montañas brillan igual al ámbar
Como encendido por un fuego eterno
El sol se pone despacito
Picos de Andes empotrados en nubes
Las sombras se desaguan en antigua arena
Categories:
bernstein, nature
Form: Tanka
Broadway
Awed play
Groovy
Movie
Bernstein
Earns screen
Bernstein
Churns scenes.....
Gangs meet
Slang streets
Race lines
Defined !!
View steps
Duets
Spars tossed
Stars crossed
Whole sides
Collide
Sweet glance
Meet-trance
Win chance
Then dance
Soul mates
Stole fate
Tonight
New fight
Doves scorned
Lovelorn
One brute
Gun shoots
Last breath
Fast death
He died
She cried
She mourns
Peace sworn
Stress ride!!!
West Side!!!!!!
Categories:
bernstein, death, lost love, sad
Form: Epigram
With the war still raging overseas
Woodward and Bernstein dug to write
President impeached for misdeeds
The seventies came and stayed the night
Bell bottoms flared on to the scene
Disco came, giving music to dance
The Son of Sam proved to be mean
During a blackout, life up to chance
TV was changing, more skin on the air
Kiss became a rage with the rock teens
Charlie had Angels, men all just stared
Life was changing in the seventies
Categories:
bernstein, history, life
Form: Quatrain