Such throaty timbres – oboes and bassoons –
such gowns! My Lady, apricot and plum,
her sleeves ablaze with blue October moons –
for one short night, her villa had become
the very essence of elysium!
To “fortify” us, as My Lady said,
against the winter tedium to come,
to banish melancholy, drive out dread,
she threw an Autumn Ball. Delirium!
We met the equinox with pipe and drum.
The quality of Florence all attended,
and never were Their Graces better fed!
The sun was up before our revels ended –
and Isabella? Still no thought of bed!
Three further galliards she’d yet to tread.
It seems I hear those trumpets even yet,
and taste the sweetmeats of that epic spread
(she’d plied us with light moscatel to whet
the palate) – I believe my mortal head
will throb for ever more, autumnal red!
Categories:
timbres, food,
Form: Quintain (Sicilian)
"Strange Timbres"
revelations like a symphony
arrive in the shafts of light
at the end of the bed
forming figures
that hold out hands
to greet us, lifting us
like small leaves floating
out of empty shells like
fallen trees
into another life
things to remember
like bad stories
disappear
smoky vibrations
left behind in that
which is far gone
diminished embers
in the shadows of
strange timbres
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Things to Remember
when writing figures
of speech and sound
The Power of poetry
comes from the ability
to defy logic
Defy logic often
Use a metaphor
and tell us that your lover is the sky
Tell us that your lover is the sky ...
When you do that
We won't believe you
We won't believe you
Because saying so makes no sense
But we'll see a meaning ...”
Categories:
timbres, dark, journey, light,
Form: Narrative
humid Summer heat
with twittering leaves, boughs and
plague of cicadas
8/5/2022
Bite Size Poem no50
Sponsor:Line Gauthier
Categories:
timbres, summer,
Form: Haiku
Her sun-bleached curls flow languid with the breeze,
with soothing timbres in her choral voice.
Her tangy scent denotes a shameless tease,
alluring like a nymph with carefree choice.
Her turquoise eyes depict a tender mood,
and salty kiss that lingers on your tongue.
Her soft embrace immersing but subdued,
for years besotted with the tunes she sung
Yet, our rapport at times was coarse as sand,
her temper swirls are hostile to behold,
with crushing sprays too stubborn to withstand,
that persevere to batter till you fold.
To fathom beauties formed of swirls and curls,
One ought to dive deep to reveal their pearls.
08.22.21
Categories:
timbres, allegory, sea,
Form: Sonnet
Grey vapour sated clouds extend their chain
Of rainy bursts and torrents at a glance
The hoarse throat whine from canyons weren’t in vain
As green shoot tillers bow to circumstance
Rush petals weave a chain of svelte romance
On river banks where oak beam timbres fall
Coy sika deer among his peers may crawl
Beyond that wetland canvass oiled at birth
An embryonic chain encodes its wall
With nascent human trails to cosmic mirth
Categories:
timbres, beautiful, beauty, birth, care,
Form: Dizain
A voice can be a blessing or a curse
Its tone directed by the state of heart;
Uplifting, giving praise, or the reverse
When it is used to lie and tear apart
With seeds of doubt and sly, pernicious art.
It can spread hate or tenderness impart.
From birth to death a voice can reassure
And benefit the empathetic ear.
It can enlighten, nurture and secure
A sense of inner peace and banish fear,
When words of truth from wisdom's lips we hear,
And voices from the distant past draw near.
Combined with melody it can inspire
As music and the sentiments embrace.
A voice may set a smitten heart on fire
Or heal the soul with hymns of saving grace.
Each voice is quite unique within our race
And myriads of timbres interface.
And when our voice is stilled at journey's end
What message will the lasting echoes send?
30.05.19
Urban Sonnet Poetry Contest : sponsored by Emile Pinet
Categories:
timbres, words,
Form: Sonnet
I ask you why, and you reply with silence
Untreaded waters with no horizon
The ground trembles below my feet
Tossed and turned, once more I ask you why
Leaning in with gleaming hope of resolution
Amongst the dissonant timbres
This yearning for the cadence of your voice
This despiration that leaves me breathless for one last
My bed sheets are made of bricks
The weight upon my chest is insurmountable
With grievance I wait for this night to end as
Demons from my past pass by laughing as they taunt
Using only my soul as spare change for the price one must pay to be happy
My mouth is sewn shut by the thread of lies you have fed me
My ribcage is a prison cell for my heart, behind closed bars
And as I wait
I watch the sun baked cement crack under pressure these
Halls can only hold so many before its beams snap like twigs and the walls cave in leaving only dust as a memory
Forgotten and faded away, as these winds carry what remains to unkown boundaries incapable of our understanding
You may ask me why and my reply will be silence
And we will wait
As the beating drum of time treads on
We will wait.
Categories:
timbres, 12th grade, conflict, cousin,
Form: Free verse
Johannus organ for the Church choir
Has enough power to accompany;
Congregational singing strengthens soul
Through the spirit-filled hymnal psalmody.
An electronic keyboard instrument
Does approximate the pipe organ's sound;
Coming from the air so squeezed and compressed
Where the beautiful voice of wind is found.
This musical tool produces various
Timbres recognized by ears of brethren;
The worship service inside the temple
Is completed by Johannus organ.
Categories:
timbres, poems,
Form: Quatrain
So blue are sunlit drops of rain
Inspired by mornings light,
Reflected in a mirror is the semblance of our lives
As summer passes by,
But all that’s built from a timbres beam
Seemed impossible to me
Under a new ray shines the simplicity of a smile
Held in the wonder of an innocent moment,
While we stare at the slender leaves that wither
Then die in falls arrival,
Until came an instant instilled in thought
That seemed impossible to me
We may have inherited the miracle of a life possessed
In the wisdom as darkness descends,
It creeps like the softness of the moonless night
Into the mystery that we all fear;
But the brilliance of a shooting star
Seems impossible to me
No idea gained over the roads we tread
On every path and every trail,
On loves rebirth to our hearts exchange
In a sound of those falling drops of rain,
But all we can hear from the timbers beam
Seems impossible to me
Categories:
timbres,
Form: Ballad