Best Aeolian Poems
dead
bones rise
in ashes,
furnace spews clouds
smelling putrid smoke,
tongues consume bodies all,
aeolian whispers fan
Varanasi’s fierce appetite,
prayer flags wave like a wick of hope
while the ruddy Ganges silently flows
~ At last! ~ At last! As
a sweet rejoinder to Him my
soul cried out aloud, at last, as I
marveled in the benignity of my
Lord. For imparting to me, the
liberal blessing of my life ...
and for giving me His
eternal assurances.
For delivering me ...
returning me to a veracious, and overt; amenable
position-of-hope-and faith in Him. Yes-for-purging-and
lifting; empowering and molding ... maturing me, indemnifying
me in His certitude, and enduring graciously the-horrid-penalty;
of my willful prides contumacy. For ne’er to trammel the ambling
of my committed volition. In the greater wisdom and grace of their
instruction I willingly did revolt in sheer defiance before His tender
eyes of mercy. (Amid the futile campaign, (of my own bitterness)).
Distinguishing only those weary days apart from the welcome and
gentle fervor, of His embrace; and so, through this detachment,
and His patient hands my heart’s longing was brought to know
compassion and to be absolvitory. As written on my heart,
and being able ... today, and thankful to Him to see. Of the
many roads I have peregrinated down, illuminated upon
this narrow path, of God’s all-inclusive way ... it is all I
~ have come to truly discern, of an aeolian peace. ~
The words of this poem, form the reference in shape and idea; of a heavenly amphora.
Musicianship
(3 May 2014; For my son Steven, an ACCOMPLISHED guitarist)
Real musicianship can truly drive you nuts—
There really are no “ifs”, “ands”, or “buts”.
Practice, study, memorize, then more practice--
Is this just an obsession or complete madness?
Learning chord inversions, arpeggios, and scales
Is like reaching Heaven by crossing through seven Hells.
It wouldn’t be bad if there were only a dozen majors,
But there’s also those other dozen minors.
What’s worse, it seems we’re never finished
Because there’s also augmented and diminished,
The major/minor/augmented/dominant sevenths.
And symmetrical double-flatted diminished sevenths,
And if this harmonic mess is not enough,
All those dissonant Jazz chords get really tough…
Such as the sustained seconds and fourths,
The sevenths add nines, sixths, blah-blah-blah, elevenths.
And if learning all this isn’t already extraordinary,
There’s music theory and music vocabulary.
Instead of just saying “get louder”, you have to “crescendo”,
Or for “fast” or “slow” you say “allegro” or “lento”.
Then there are names like Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian,
Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, and Locrian.
(All being modes derived from scale C-major,
Plus each major scale also has a relative minor)
Multiple pattern exercises on guitar fretboards
Are even worse than finger drills on piano keyboards.
Worse, the string tuning on a six-string acoustic guitar
Is not quite the same as on a 4/5/6/7-string bass guitar.
It’s hard to get up on stage and routinely play
That same song, for the umpteenth time, in an inspiring way.
No wonder musicians seem to all suffer manic-depression,
From trying to play a full sets with unique expression.
All the advances in music equipment and technology
Bless and curse musicians like two-edged swords, you see,
Because all this work they do to sound like a maestro or genius
Can be counterfeited on a computer by a musical ignoramus.
But computer geeks won’t ever find that special place,
That fugue-like subtle sacred state of grace,
Which for brief moments is like deep meditation.
No, that’s the forbidden domain of the real musician.
To suggest that musicians all are just “gifted” naturally,
Is the absolute superlative worst insulting irony.
Truly, real musicianship can drive you nuts—
No, there really are no “ifs”, “ands”, or “buts”.
We raised gourd houses for the Purple Martin
Atop a pole, against a fluid sky
Where late jet thunder spews
A raid cloud--ambitious wonder.
Intense, our Southern sky, like old dreams
Harbors a night's Aeolian pine,
A day's jonquil in oxblood sod
And simmering heat enchanting jejune asphalt.
But room lies yet in sanctuary swamps
For thinning fox grape, hawk and mockingbird..
One idea away from a maze of pipe and brick
On hunger's soulless map.
Now gather around, ye lusty lads, a tale I'll tell to thee
Of jealous Gods, monsters and ill-fated men who sailed the sea.
My tale is set in hoary times when fickle fate was by divine decree.
Then men were men who faced all odds, much sturdier than you or me.
It was the time when the Trozans fell, King Priam's pride was turned to dust,
Odysseus' ruse of Trozan Horse, made him of the God's accursed;
For Apollo's faith was crushed by heel of Grecian fleet,
And rape and pillage, with lust and greed, was rampant on the street
But fair Odysseus, with wanton fill, mindful of the weep and wail
With his Grecian hordes and a dozen ships to Ithaca did set sail
With hope-filled heart, with fair Penelope and Telemachus in mind
His course to fair Ithaca was charted and well and truly defined.
But fate, I did say, was most fickle-minded, and had deviously contrived
A fate which would try their grit and test how they fought, and survived.
And so the ships driven willy-nilly by the North Westers and South Easters
Drove them by predetermined chance to the Land of the Lotus Eaters.
The Lotus Eaters were a race which the world forgot in their drugged state
With food of the Nelumbo, of a species time forgot, but did their hunger sate,
And drugged their minds to exclusion of world, to family, and other cares.
Odysseus , abstinent was he,, dragged them back on board, with crew unawares.
Thence post-haste did the ships set sail and sighted fair isle with fatted cattle,
Fair game for stocking provisions, but first a Titan Cyclops they had to battle.
Odysseus, full of guile knew that force would lead to hapless naught,
So crept he in, midst cattle din, and there sleeping Polyphemus sought.
And there as the Cyclops soundly slept, blinded his eye, which was but one.
Polyphemus, Titan, unbeknownst to Odysseus, was Poseidon's beloved son.
With prideful boast Ithacan King, in derision his name did daringly decree.
Wild with rage, and dreadful pain, did Polyphemus call his father from the sea.
Deeply hurt at deceit and guile by which the Grecians blinded his offspring,
Poseidon did curse and said, " May stormy seas and whirly winds calamity bring"
So tossed about were the dozen ships, windblown and tossed on heaving seas.
With heavy heart and tired limb went they to Aeolus, the Wind God there to please.
~11 Jun 2016~
As the screaming Sirocco swept the sands,
Suffocating the Shiekh's Sixth Sick Sheep,
It's sister, Simoon, soon sought to strike
The sweat-suffering Sultan's sweet sleep.
Then came the Khamsin, and Calima, too,
- Dust-devils, Diabolos, Lavaan, Loo!
Angered, Aeolos, King of the Air,
Council called up with him in chair
Boreas, Euros, Fair Favonius,
Zesty Zephyr, alll were there
With solemn, sullen, scowl he said:
I'll rout these rascals, send you instead.
The howling hot-heads harassed no more
As the Aeolian Airs soothed the Shiekh's sandy sore!
(At his point I petulantly wind up my windy verbiage -
As continuing ceaselessly and adamantly with unending alliteration would surely end in gibberish and garbage)
Warm winds blow
Their golden grain
The sands not in charge
Off their own domain
These hills of sand
Aeolian processes form
Shifting at will
In any desert sandstorm
The shape of the dunes
You see today
Were not their shape
Yesterday
Crescentic, linear
Star and dome
Parabolic
Dune shaped homes
Masses of sand
On our continents exist
But where ever they are
The wind persists
Gobi, Namib
To name but two
These deserts of grain
Golden yellow hue
Drifting sands
Whistle in rhyme
But we will never stop
The shifting sands of time
A pendulum is but a slave of time:
What its trapped spirit wants is hidden where
The folding waves can find a friendly clime,
Far from the bloody dagger of despair.
Inveigled by amorphous accolades
Of lust, the lure to scry and linger thin
In search of faithful memories soon fades
If hungry eyes ensorcel beauty’s twin.
Æolian caresses cannot calm
The mind of Argus on his callous charge,
Though knavish gods have chosen to embalm
His eyes within a noble avian barge.
How brazen! I still crave the fleeting thrill
To break the sundial as Saint Elmo strikes the mast
Of ships, and make gray time stand still.
O, might it die so that I breathe at last!
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Only when the trumpets roar
Angels in chorus, enchanting all music
The day our creator calls.
I surrender my soul, O Holy One, to you
He who casts, out all shadows, from the darkness
striking at the devil's door, he himself will kneel, guilty
To our maker and his.Bowing down kissing his feet
We will raise our hands in prayer
In a regal Heavenly sound, holding the very air, we breathe.
Golden flashing silver chariots on fire blinding with his lightning, Grace
Flashing of beauty, Glory be to God
They come racing out, from the gates, of heaven
We will bow in shame adoring
Each and every single knee,they will bend
In honor to, our Almighty King
He who is reverent ,Father,Lord and Master
When a sun will forever sleep
The sounds of weeping,them bathing, within pools of, a beautiful light
Weeps upon destination, our final day, judgement.
Our redeemer has finally come,unto to earth ,in our salvation
The moon shades red, her light in sorrow
Clouds nacreous upon gossamer wings
sweetly floats, upon a whispering breeze sweetly
Aeolian blowing through deep Psiturism passions
bleeds on our Passover, have mercy
Suffering blood of our brothers and sisters
Generations of our sins ,in the Heaven,s speak
Our Lord and master has spoken
only no one heeds, his Holy voice, or call
All this talk of war, makes one weep, with sadness
suffering in a world, where we are all brothers
born from our mother,s womb, sacred
Sisters reminiscence in past sins
Brought up, with the peace,within understanding and love of God
We are all his flock of children, lost
So much poison, shown on the television
We all sit back guilty and say nothing
This world we live in, is our world
Each and everyone of us, has a very powerful voice
Our rights to, freedom of speech
Ataraxia to all nations calls
Very little love, within this world
Less today, let us pray for tomorrow
We are controlled now, with mans own greed
How heartbreaking sad, it makes one feel inside
Power is in the hands, held with love and peace
With gentle happiness and joy, it would embrace
this ugly world ,we now, live in today
Aeolian [rotating to or caused by wind]
Ataraxia [perfect peace of mind with calmness]
Gossamer [any thin,light fabric]
Nacreous [mother of pearl clouds]
Psiturism [the soul of the wind through the trees]
The crew, thinking the Aeolian Gift was not Odysseus' alone but common property
Stole the bag, with avariced mind, curious to find, broke the seals - the winds were free
The winds in fury, unconfined, vent their wrath - the ship's were blown like chaff
Till driven they wee to Laestrygone straits - the wild Winds had their last laugh.
Great giants were the Laestrygones - they of Cyclop's ilk - perhaps ten cubits tall
They threw great boulders of stone and sank the ships - elven of them all
Like scattered beads were the corpses of men - the Laestrygones cannibal feast
While busy they were in relishing the fare - Odysseus's ship quitely slipped from the East
Odysseus and his battered crew did, doleful and weary, away from land, sail a while
With blazing sun, parched throats and hungry maws - they sighted fair Circe's Isle!
Now Circe was in beauty cast, fair in diaphanous drape, an enchantress to beware.
With welcome arms, (and welcome bed), she charmed with kingly feast and handsome dress.
But soon the welcome did turn around as the men did quaff the sweet mulled wine,
For half the men, in spells entrapped, soon transmogrified into squealing swine!
Great Zeus, from Olympian heights, sent Herme's to Circe to plead for their release
Most reluctant was the maid, but abide she did, made men again, they once more set to sea.
------ To be continued
~11 Jun 2016~
The stairway to nowhere:
The desert where you wander when you dream
That dry plane with cold marbles
Under the hot overhead
Where shadows have passed
Somewhere close to my mother laughing
Somewhere close to me jumping
In this crystal house with transparent multifarious rooms
Each with the stars as the infrangible ceiling
The wimpled windows
Let light break
In to this Aeolian world
Like a quixotic visitor
It weaves itself into the matter
Dares to light it up
In the night
If only briefly
Before it leaves
On the stairway to nowhere
On a windswept hill crest by the sea there is a lonely ancient sentient tree that seems so
figuratively familiar to me, I wonder why this can be n’ who my heart longs for when
I’m here n’ why love gives no guarantee…
Though I visit here frequently, today I was summoned, beckoned by the branches of this
solitary tree swaying in the breeze, to this charming yet purgatorial space...
I knelt down upon this strange magical place n' was carried away as my fingers traced an
owl’s feather to my face n’ wondered why I loved n’ despised this fateful place…
My body shivered, internally tingling n’ with grace, some kind of enlightened knowing I could
not erase n' like the sentient tree that cradles you within, I sensed your ethereal embrace…
Silence ends where you begin, I heard the likes of Aeolian sing “Oh my Immortal” n’ your
poetic voice disturbed the chaos in the winds of my mind n’ there within returned the
memory of your handsome androgynous face…
I said… “Come let my hands play upon your skin” n with my thoughts gathering to replay a
scene across time of broken hearts n’ love’s abandoning reflected in the fire of your eyes n’
a touch of a feather upon my face…
I’ll never know your name or how many tears were cried in the oceanic depths of your
pleasure n’ pain, though the salt I can taste in the tempest of this darkening day as the wind
heralds your scent n’ presence unto me…
I’ll never know all who walked hand in hand here before me or where each discarded shell
has been as the seasons flew away, yet I now know why a thousand Halloweens were your
destiny n’ you summoned me to transcend my mortality n’ the meaning of silent words at
play this day…
Our ancient bodies lay together here beyond mortal touch, though in my present existence I
no longer recall our names, they are lost in my many lifetimes yet kept in the Goddess’s
providence…
Though no longer you feel my touch or pleasure n’ pain I'll plant a flower as a blessing on
top of our grave, above the waves, where your soul is a slave to this sentient tree cradling
your ashes n’ bones returned to dust…
~ (~) "Those eminent-depths yes-vast-those elucidated-and-certain-and-ever evolving;
moreover-painful-voids — upheld beyond their exclusion-always plaguing-solely pledged
avidly, admittedly pleaded each one... for the-other; their denial-indifference-once known of
this very-distinction patient love the principal always opportunistic-rushing in remains
graceful... open — offering them the blessing — perfect-and-tender yes the ever-willing
altruistic-and-simplistic-offering; of inclusion — revealing for-them this subtle illusion,
intuition; the pleasure granted of-truths higher foresight for-them forever-abiding with and
within-them-if remaining-this way; yes-their worlds-merely but alone only one-singular —
proposal —
aeolian... isolation... !" (~) ~
~ (~) Prosperity wrought of fear-far
greater is the isolation the resulting-
greed; underlying... .
Lusting for peace is-really nary-anymore the-
altruistic-inclusion of this... .
Individual freedom alone; walking upon its neck-
crushing this-proposal; be it placed under, confined-
amid-this underneath-greed's limitless division... .
Effervescent are these offerings,
mercy... compassion... patience, forgiveness,
tenderness yes-upholds these greater truths;
because open; willing these principals-
all surrendered their conditions; all...
trusting, leaning; relying-on-love. (~) ~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18CJGlp5eiI
~ and so now At last! ~
~ At last! ~
~As a sweet rejoinder to Him my soul cries
out aloud, at last, as I marvel in the benignity of my Lord. ~
~ For imparting to me,
the liberal blessing of my life ...
and for giving me His eternal assurances.
For delivering me ...
returning me to a veracious, and overt;
amenable position-of-hope-and faith in Him. ~
~Yes-for-purging-and lifting;
empowering and molding ... maturing me,
indemnifying me in His certitude,
and enduring graciously, the-horrid-penalty;
of my willful prides contumacy. ~
~ For ne’er to trammel the ambling
of my committed volition. ~
~ In the greater wisdom and grace
of their instruction I willingly did revolt
in sheer defiance before His tender eyes of mercy. ~
~ (Amid the futile campaign, (of my own bitterness.)) ~
~ Distinguishing only those weary days apart
from the welcome and gentle fervor, of His embrace;
and so, through this detachment,
and His patient hands my heart’s longing
was brought to know compassion
and to be absolvitory. ~
~ As able today and thankful to Him to see. ~
~ Of the many roads I have peregrinated down. ~
~ Illuminated upon this narrow path,
of God’s all-inclusive way. ~
~ It is all I have come to truly discern, of an aeolian peace ... ~
Which key should I put this song in?
I sing in G Ionian/major comfortably,
Likewise the relative E Aeolian/minor scale.
Plus those guitar chords are easy as sin.
I could choose a scale that’s more exotic -
D Mixolydian has the same notes and chords.
Hungarian or Roumanian minor, Spanish Gypsy.
Or another scale derived from minor harmonic.
Keep it simple – let’s start with the G Major scale.
Should I do a basic 1-4-5 with major G/C/D chords?
Or a jazzy 2-5-1 with A minor/D/G ending on the tonic?
Let’s do a bluesy 1-4-5 with a turn-around at the tail!
Just major and minor triad chords are boring.
Major, minor, and dominant sevenths can be cool;
But I’m rather partial to suspended seconds and fourths.
My sliding E diminished flat 7th will keep the fans from snoring!
What can I do to add even more pizzazz and glitz?
Slowly build the dynamic and rhythmic complexity.
Give the crowd a tribal chorus they can sing to.
Add a spanking hot hook throughout that never quits!