Best Arpeggio Poems
Bereft..
tingles and sway
deserted
heartstrings bestilled..
I yearn
for the thrill of the dance
and for ravishing trills of arpeggio moments..
widowed..
the capriccio
has died;
lifeless in swoon-less inertia
I pine
for zealous zephyrs to float my cloudless notes
and kiss me aquiver -
to shiver my craving broken chords
in the lusty bluster of his imaginative airs
and the lively magic of his lyrical lovemaking
wistful
without whispers
blue
without wind-songs
chant-less..
I suffer in silence -
awaiting
my escapade
in the windy caprices
of his mind-blowing dalliances..
for neither of us can sing without the other.
Susan Ashley
September 14, 2018
~ Third Place ~
Best Free Verse July 1 - October 1, 2018
John Hamilton
*Capriccio: 1. Music; a lively piece composed freely and without adhering to the rules of any specific musical form. 2. A whim; caprice.*
*Caprice: 1. A sudden, unpredictable change, as of one’s mind or the weather. 2. A sudden, unpredictable change in attitude, behavior, etc; whim. 3. Another word for capriccio.*
The old man was no longer a hunter,
But he would not stoop to women’s chores.
A storm was brewing as he sought
Shelter in a round cave.
Soon he had a fire going but he preferred
To stay near the entrance and listen.
He did not know yet what music was
But he could tell the difference
Between each sound that echoed outside.
The wind was strong that began like a rigadoon
But reached its forte in tone and pitch,
A crescendo that reached its apex as it climbed the hills.
There it hit stones and sent them down crashing
Like the sound of synchronized drums.
Slowly the wind lost its force and vibrated into a cadence,
Leading to an herbaceous plain as it wandered off
Like a soft funeral march.
The old man heard all and knew what was to come.
Promptly a bird began to sing to the now calm night,
A mellifluous sonata and then subliminal silence.
A breeze whipped up, a silky serenade that like an arpeggio
It grew ductile but strong as it flew amongst the trees,
Leaves replying with a trill till the moon came up,
Shadows dancing on the now calm groove.
All was at peace.
The old man picked up his reed. Someday he will learn
And emulate the sounds around into a coherent aria.
18 December 2020
Music, music, it’s in the air,
Here is a list of what I hear:
A B C D E F G
(1 e & a) (1 2 3)
Rhythm, beat, timing, and tempo,
Fermata, rest, and accelerando,
Forte, piano, half, and whole,
Quarter, dotted, and staccato,
Sharp, flat, and natural, too,
4/4, 3/4, 6/8, and 2/2,
Measure, scale, and arpeggio,
Chord, seventh, and legato,
Major, minor, and decrescendo,
Crescendo, seventh, and ritardando,
Staff, spaces, lines, and strings,
Sixteenth, in-tune, and fingering,
Woodwind, brass, position, and trill,
Treble, bass, mellow, and shrill,
Percussion, composer, style, and key,
Quickly, lively, somber, and freely,
Triplet, tone, tied, and up-beat,
Pick-up, slur, eight, and down-beat.
You may hear music here and there,
But I hear music everywhere.
It originates with a blank canvas.
White.
Eerie silence like snow drifting
A fermata.
Silence is music too.
Then a sonata of yellow breaks the spell.
The arpeggio of a laugh
The trill of the buttery sun shinning through a canopy of leaves.
Then red timbre intercedes warming the tone.
The fortissimo of a polished apple
The triplet of a beating heart.
The rubato of blue instantly tones down the orchestra.
A rippling pond plays a chromatic scale
A tear drop strokes a resounding note.
Then,
White again.
A last tacet.
Don't hear it yet?
Look closer.
And listen.
She’s still; an interlude in solitude.
Twilight mournful, his voice ghostly distant,
introspection.., meditation imbued,
she sits alone, bitter-sweet existent.
Lamentations she weeps in glissando.
Cacophony! Consciously in discord,
love reminisce, arpeggio tempo,
she sits alone, remembrance, two-edged sword.
Bethought bliss, wedded they waltzed plucking notes,
of musical blues and exotic spiced scents…
their life of love evocative emotes,
she sits alone mingling blessings - repents.
Chrystal-tone melodies, bass-tone longing,
Moonlight Sonata melancholy eyes..
pain and pleasure, her reverie thronging,
she sits alone, his ghostly voice in guise.
Susan Ashley
August 5, 2017
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Best Rhyming Poem July-September 2017
Sponsor: John Hamilton
~ Third Place ~
Contest: She Sits Alone
Sponsor: Eve Roper
when low notes resting
under score responses flat
arpeggio streams
bass fiddles around
stanzas lost in the hum strum
tune up buddy or
fade to silenced
rhythms of verse play softly
with strings of attach
Fluttering fingertips
on ebony and ivory
gently ascending
like the wings of
a white butterfly~
then gradually descending~
fading like a sleepy sun.
Tender instrumental pauses ~
transposing into heart beats
like the silence between I
and LOVE~ and YOU
when you utter them
in our nocturnal tryst.
Dulcet moonlight melodies ~
in shifting harmonies of arpeggio;
Lingering like the touch of your fingertips
on my cheeks as you kiss me goodnight.
14 February 2021
Notes: Liebesträume (German for Dreams of Love) is a set of three solo piano works (S. 541/R. 211) by Franz Liszt, published in 1850. Originally the three Liebesträume were conceived as lieder after poems by Ludwig Uhland and Ferdinand Freiligrath. (Source: Wikipedia)
All Yours ( February 14) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
1st Place
LOVE STORIES (6 Haikus)
on one long low string
plumbing the depth of despair
violincello
like sharp pixie nails
teasing hurting sadistic
mascara blue smoke
she says “I love you”
perfumed breath mascara eyes
flask of red red wine
both vulnerable
blue cigarette smoke curling
tears empty bottle
gypsy violin
blue cigarette smoke curling
sans paroles
sorrow and despair?
no! a D arpeggio
sun flowers health life!
50-50
was the divorce court decree
She and I both bear the blame,
yet, why does an 800-pound gorilla
preponderance of guilt
weigh heavy on the back of me?
I know I did my shameful part
to wreck our marriage
To destroy something that was once beautiful
I’m guilty as charged ...
let the gavel of judgment come down hard
Let it pound me into the dungeon dirt floor
Laying prone, I see an equal distribution of responsibility —
Half of the woe is on her,
half of the lament is on me
Even though she and I both share in the blame:
why is there a cinder block preponderance of guilt
wrapped tight around my feet,
pulling me ... into the murky depths
of final separation misery?
No evidentiary discovery
came to my prosecutorial rescue
when I cried aloud my plaintiff plaintive plea:
Judge Judy judge ... then please have mercy on me
Though I ain’t the only one at fault —
having my soul split asunder
is the ultimate marital penalty
I truly know, she and me both are to blame,
still, a heavy rope preponderance of guilt
grow taut from the back of a moving pickup truck
dragging empty clanging cans of grief,
with a vanity plate that says: Just Got Divorced!
Untie the bind ... this kinda freedom don’t make some happy
Pay the piper for playing an arpeggio parting amicably
And the court rubber stamped my heart
with a piece of paper that said: No Longer Married
Attorney G. Eden’s closed briefcase sound:
a rusted chain swinging from a courtyard tree
was the echo preponderance of my guilt —
Lynched broken vows hanging me
Marriage went down in flames ...
only thing salvageable
was a tarnished maiden name
Sometime,
Your feet in the mud,
Several hours left,
What is the echo of each step
We need to stop, take a look,
What we have seen is strange
In the way that we travel.
I branched out, I open myself to the dark
And the bright. First my form,
seen and known.
Nothing prepares us for the truth
Of gestures and silence,
More difficult in its most abstract form.
Our steps hold us as
A pure philosophy of dreams.
Press the thumb on the temple,
Inquire into the length of the braided rope
And cling to the steep wall.
Know if we live among eroded raindrops
And the acceleration of the clocks.
Hard FOOT SOFT SOUL Dedicated VERSE FOR SHASTA SIMMS ANTHOLOGY #2
Hard foot soft soul
Oh, you gotta go
Hot foot soft soul dance
Hot axe bop step in chance
Hard foot soft soul
Plays as you step cool jazz
Hard foot hot soul
Man seize the night play the axe
Cool is the jazz
Setting episode of the angel dance
Drumming beats
Percussion sweet
Pirouette quick turn and run
Man in the corner blowin the horn
Bridge fusion beat music arpeggio (give me some)
Hard foot soft soul
Oh, you gotta go
Hot foot soft soul dance
Hot axe bop step in chance
Hard foot soft soul
Plays as you step cool jazz
Hard foot hot soul
Man seize the night play the axe
Hard FOOT SOFT SOUL
10/8/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Dedicated VERSE FOR SHASTA SIMMS ANTHOLOGY #2
MUSICAL TEA WITH A VIEW
My first and principal comfort is tea
Which may be prepared in a weakened form
And must be hot or the afternoon free
Will be spoiled by a tiny teacup storm.
The cup should be large for added volume
And not too narrow so that my biscuit
Doesn’t - as I gaze over the cup’s rim -
Fall from cup into room:
If I must needs leap about to catch it
Then the afternoon’s outlook will be dim.
Window with a view over a garden,
Preferably with a lawn and flowers;
And let no one have to beg my pardon
For trampling over the grass or bowers.
Oh but the shape, the form, and sweet design,
The delicate choice of the trees and blooms
Must have good taste in texture and balance
(Of necessity mine)
So that the garden seen from all the rooms
Will you at once delight and then entrance.
When I’m fully tead and gazed-with-eyefuls
Out come my guitar and harmonica.
I make, with strings plucked and air in mouthfuls,
Music and song from Spain or Africa.
And when I strum and blow those melodies -
Arpeggio, vamping, or free chording -
They flow o’er the garden and teacup edge.
They come about with ease -
Great pleasure and delight affording
The pansies, the heather, the rose, the sedge.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Cyndi MacMillan’s Contest
AN ODE TO SMALL COMFORTS ON A RAINY AFTERNOON
Sunrise Smile
Soft beneath concerto skies,
sonnets of sand dune reaches
and deserted isle longings
sing harmony in a tropical key
as symphonic breezes sway palms
in warm arpeggio footsteps
bringing me ever closer
to the melodic beauty
of your sunrise smile
Good morning Soupers
I am attracted by
Virtuous notes
A capable sound
From a Steinway & Sons grand piano
A mighty orchestra
Unknown melodies
A child prodigy at the keyboard
A Gift of Peace
The hammer that strikes golden strings
Of a grand piano.
Bravo. Hurrah.
A Laurel, a performance hardly heard
Attentive spectators rejoice
The vaults of the concert hall
Reflect corpulent sounds
Gershwin’s Allegro or Lento
'Scherzo Con Brio' without hardship
The child pianist
That angels also listen
Of a talent that inebriates like wine
And the key to a distant remembrance
It is now a choral
Then a horn sound
Of at an Imperial Andante
Then the violins all around
Fiery Rondo. Dreamy adages.
Arpeggio and a madrigal
Finally, the Grand Finale
Without hesitation
Through the maze of time I thread,
Even in the darkest hour,
It was a box of dream,
I opened and what a site it was,
It was an oracle of augury,
A plenitude of arpeggio,
And amidst this realm of melodies,
And the plethora of ecstasy,
There was sorrow, hatred, deceit,
And with a feeling of dismay,
I asked my self,
What an augury of ecstatic sadness?
An unpredictable region of byzantine.