In fifth grade, I earned first place
statewide for violin
against the girl I half-loved—
her fingers quicker,
her lineage more illustrious—
but that day,
mine did not tremble.
She chose a piece
with fireworks and pitfalls—
something by Tchaikovsky—
I chose Barcarolle—
plainspoken, sweet,
a boat gliding through moonlight.
I played it without flaw.
She slipped once,
only once.
We both knew I’d won
on a grace note—
not brilliance, nor fire—
just a clean line
held steady
while hers faltered.
Afterward,
she turned from me
like a violin
tucked into its case.
A week later,
dad took us to a restaurant
with cloth napkins and candles,
to celebrate my victory.
He smiled too much,
and talked too loud,
and the wineglass
trembled in his hand
just before he threw up
on the checkered tablecloth.
He tried to pay,
but the card was declined.
The cashier cut it in half.
He gave them his gold watch
as a promise.
I wished I could just
be invisible,
and we left without dessert.
Two years later,
I buried my medal in the woods
and never played violin again.
Categories:
grace note, 5th grade, celebration, childhood,
Form: Free verse
Ralph had used her as a transitory scapegoat throughout life.
Feigning to dissipate the almost daily, inurbane strife,
capricious Rikki could always flatter his malignant pride.
A perspicuous grace note, she overlooked each time he lied.
Seemingly, his constant intention was to alienate;
Ralph was that turncoat to whom Rikki was game to gravitate.
written September 4, 2016
Categories:
grace note, abuse, emotions, hurt, relationship,
Form: Rhyme
SHORT HYMN FOR MY DAUGHTER
Bursting with young energy on her adventure,
Wearing a sense of humor for her coat,
She sings with an optimistic grace note.
From the end of her bridge let her venture
To the middle and meet her young man,
As he crosses to meet her gladly.
O may they never sing together sadly;
Let them love one another across the span.
May she be excused all suffering or pain.
Make straight her way; let her succeed;
Allow her to ascend the hills easily; indeed
Let her be free to sing her own refrain.
Categories:
grace note, daughter
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
(how well I could play)
in a straight forward way;
simplifying it, making it more pure
in a clear sound, turning it up
and bearing down...
there'd be distortion, red-anger, punk-blue,
get it up tough, keep it going,
'cause I didn't know what else to do.
at fifteen I was unreasonably accomplished
with those long dynamic echo-delayed riffs;
at eleven I was sleeping in the back of a car
surrounded by books an amp and a guitar,
rolling around with the sound of
a welt chord, a grace note, Henry Miller and Nietzsche;
laying-down these upholstery-songs in the summer of seventy-eight
where reverb was explored beyond the return of counter-culture,
going 'round the bend, headed in a back-words direction again
Categories:
grace note, allegory, art, childhood, life,
Form: Free verse