TO A NEVER-ENDING SYMPHONY
OF EMANCIPATION’S RECONSTRUCTION
Stomping cautiously
Along the erratic cadences
Of slaved-based racism
And its quarter-note overtones,
We groove from one oppressive
Barred-beat to another:
The scored freedom sojourn
Filled with negative rest stops,
Designed to decrescendo
Wailing staccato, rhythmic screams
Of jazzy, flowing notes, echoing
With rebellious metered sounds:-
Bypassing silent apathetic rest stops,
With a crescendo of rumbling faith
And sassy melodic hopes,
Renewed booming sounds of liberation,
void of waning half notes,
Loudly burst into vibrant whole notes
Of modulating fixed purpose:
Creating a never-ending
Symphony Of Emancipation,
Conducted by spiritual directing,
Exacting melodic notes
Of an ultrasonic pulse,
Echoing a never-ending concert
And its encore sounds of
Liberty’s total reality:-
A life of rhythm makes a song
a signature of time, that's strong,
will make us brightly sing along -
the sentimental reason -
a quarter note, each season.
A year goes by, we count a beat.
For youth it is a special treat,
but years and breath's supply, deplete -
our sweet, melodic treasure -
four beats per single measure.
A promise, kisses and bouquets
as lovers ever fate obeys
and measures make a music phrase.
Now dig that syncopation -
a whole new generation.
The first verse, we are just a child.
Our crazy, funky beat goes wild.
We looked like Grandma when we smiled,
and though I may be dissing,
like Gramps, whose beat was missing.
But, soon, we're old women and men
and fondly we remember when,
and wish to do it all again.
Though we've been through the ringer,
we praise the song and singer.
And now that it's almost complete.
I still want to tap my feet.
why does music affect me the way it does?
why does each quarter note, half rest, and accent dig into each layer of my skin?
why can music change my mood no matter the situation?
i often wonder why music has to remind me of people.
how one single song can be ruined after a loved one has left.
the song that once brought me true happiness and reminded me of them,
now it just reminds me of them.
the giggling, smiling, understanding every feeling and movement about each other.
it brings it all back.
why?
why does it have to?
in an instance my eyes fill with water as the first note strikes.
Love is not one-quarter note
It's a violin concerto set on fire
Played to a table for two
It’s not half-assed
Or half-baked
It’s the 3 inches thick
finger licking frosting
with a cherry on top of my cake
It's full tilt
Take a chance
Raw
Messy
Hard
Bend over backwards
Give it all you’ve got
Show me the damn cards
Risk layin' um down
Win or lose
Dare to feel alive
Put your heart in gear and drive
sort of love…
Yeah, that kind
©~Cornelia Mattioli aka Flying Angel~
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