Long Rachmaninoff Poems

Serenade Me, Julius La Rosa

His striped tie has a green tint color 
And his hands are dark and bulging with blood. 
I can see them gripping the steering wheel like parrot talons. 
I can see...

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I

     You stare silently squinting
 through  your stained glass panes

Pulling aside sapphire drapes
 of somber samite and organdy
  
Lo, gazing mesmerized
a quixotic moon--
blithely blows kisses,
wryly winks
and coyly smiles--


 Yea,...

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It's one of those moments,
the guy in you grabs the micro
starts talking on and on;
mine is often sarcastic,
from high school to career,
spinning around the questions starting with why,
no escape from responding.
It's like life itself, which...

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The lean old men in my vicinity
wake to find themselves a day older
then turn away from the mirror to reflect
on their miserable circumstance.
Then they masque their decay with cologne,
snap on their one-piece spandex sportswear
and wheel...

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had her parents forced her into it like so many do, 
then she might still be a virtuoso, that is true, 
however, 
to see a kid make for themselves a hobby into a skill, 
just
because
they
want
to,
is...

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I rise at the center of...
Is it a room? This is a face.
There is motion, too fast, too clamorous.
Cryptic and opaque. Shapes shift
into my field of view.
Recognize! The message spoken
ends in an upward curve.
Interpret! It...

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Harvard, at night - You still sit on the lawn
with the weight of both structures alive in your arms
Rachmaninoff's tears turning black at your hips
The counting of friends on your five finger tips

Sawdust and poetry,...

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TANGLEWOOD AS THERAPY

Tanglewood untangled me, took my breath away
each moment of Sibelius, Mahler, Rachmaninoff 
sweet violins, trumpets, kettle drums, cellos, fire
mixed with wind, echoing within the shed, over
the lawn, concert goers sprawled on blankets,
seated on...

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uqZhnqHMAg


The orchestra strains to be symphonic --- a bee in a tin box.
Cigar smoke thunders, molecules of sound wilt
only to be dialed up through brass lungs.
The combo is quaintly upholstered, a classic sports car
driven by...

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Grand Piano 
Exquisite
For my soul 
a true delight 
Anticipation rising
for the pianist
to arrive
Upon his stool
so comfortable
flexed fingers
and closed eyes
No music sheet
knows every note
and plays complete 
Concerto
Looking up
A baton raised
Fingers are alive
I’m in another place
Transported...

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Traveling over an ocean to the
New world a symphony slowly grew and
Burst upon America as the New World,
Composer left an imprint quality new volume
Anton or Antonín or perhaps Anthony Dvorák.

Pen smoothing ink gliding over paper
Nine...

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It is sonorous blue velvet,
a mitten with a thousand invisible fingers.
A concerto for dyslexic mystics.
The composer peeks nervously at the listeners
then rips open his uttering heart
until blood forms love poetry in the air.
We are all...

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In wild joy nothing matters but the feeling of
seeing sunlight crafting colours in eyes that, they say,
don't see too good, sun coloured fairies dance a beautiful
dance, joined by softly sung hymns from sirens
floating just above...

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why isn't she sad?
why doesn't she weep?
the angels ask her in her sleep
  because she brought a cat along,
a shroud of memories and song
yes song rolled tightly in a roll
light soldiers carried
in her soul
...

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There's a spot on the horizon
In the ripple of the sun
Where railway lines and stanchions fuse
And merge, becoming one.

I was staring from the platform
When a distant dot appeared.
It grew in size and shape and form
And...

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