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Dorme la corriera
dorme la farfalla
dormono le mucche
nella stalla

il cane nel canile
il ***** nel bimbile
il fuco nel fucile
e nella notte nera
dorme la pula
dentro la pantera

dormono i rappresentanti
nei motel dell'Esso
dormono negli Hilton
i cantanti di successo
dorme il barbone
dorme il vagone
dorme il contino
nel baldacchino
dorme a Betlemme
Gesù bambino
un po' di paglia
come cuscino
dorme Pilato
tutto agitato

dorme il bufalo
nella savana
e dorme il verme
nella banana
dorme il rondone
nel campanile
russa la seppia
sul'arenile
dorme il maiale
all'Hotel Nazionale
e sull'amaca
sta la lumaca
addormentata

dorme la mamma
dorme il figlio
dorme la lepre
dorme il coniglio
e sotto i camion
nelle autostazioni
dormono stretti
i copertoni

dormono i monti
dormono i mari
dorme quel porco
di Scandellari
che m'ha rubato
la mia Liù
per cui io solo
porcamadonna
non dormo più.
djr Jun 2012
Well hello, all, I’m your maestro ceremonious
they call me Lokonious, purveyor of the odious
so sit back, relax, and celebrate the… atonalness?

A: Andante con fuoco
We’re goin’ a cappella so let me say first
your style’s ba-roke, now let’s get on with the verse
you’re all up in the scale with a falsetto pitch
hittin’ soprano like a castrato *****!
my mind is sharp, while you’re stuck outta key
my rhythm’s all natural, you can’t find a beat
you need some help ’cause you’re out on your own
find that ****** on a subway, the metro-nome

B: Allegro con brio
throw down the fermata and hold up a minute
your ****’s a cacophony, no way to spin it
and son, i ain’t broke, my style’s all classical
you just can’t register that my words are magical
I spit rhymes in fantasy, can’t you see that you’re beat?
And they thought an allegro was unfit for elegy

A: Moderato col legno
well as for your girl, it may sound corny
the ***** loves my brass ’cause she’s: oh so *****
dispel your illusion, i got one more
your girl’s like a crime show… easy to score

B: Allegretto grazioso
your intellect is minor and your insults are bassless
your composition’s hardly a harmony: graceless
your cymbalism’s trite, and your motif’s unknown
an unfocused opus full of dissonant drones

A: Affrettando agitato
get out my face with your unnatural rap
you spit cold air and your lyrics are flat
you’ve got no harm while my canon’s a gat
so work on your refrain, ‘fore I bust da cap-OOOHHHHH

B: Coda
pull your weak crap, ’cause you’re outta your mode
such imperfect rhymes that we’re calling a cod-a
no time for the fanfare, you’re trying my patience
an end to your requiem, bring out the cadence

So that’s their story, best not get involved
their fight’s an augmented fourth: difficult to resolve
13 May 2014
Fortissimo -A
The great fall,
into eerie suffocating darkness
piano pianissimo
leaving smiles on faces inverted,
frozen tears that never rolled down.
The menacing overture
grim and heavy,
crushing fortitude, grief and joy
clawing each other out,
lucidly.

Agitato -B
The angst builds,
wrenching the mind from its rational gaze
chromatic disorder seeps in,
another descent begins.
Agitation bleeds
into rivers of melancholy
flowing fervently to the ******
where famished ears await
the soulful drop of anticipation and girth.
Seduction, no heart could withstand
submission, no slave would surrender.

Coda -A*
Returning to where it began,
the exposition of extremes
a collapsing sky, a violent dream.
At the edge of belief,
madness is melody
poignantly orchestrated.
Fingers that questioned doom
have retorted swiftly.
The closing is at hand;
it ends quietly.
Morceaux de fantaisie (MDCCCXCII)
*Prelude in C-sharp minor, Op. 3, No. 2.*
Posted on October 25, 2013
Alan Dickson Apr 2013
(Theme, Variations, and Coda)

Theme – Andante sognante*  
I dreamed last night...
It was a dream
Like one I've had before
Variations on a theme
My colleagues standing at my door

Guitarists all, I bid them in
And soon it's time to play
My teacher first, each one in turn
They play the night away

Var. 1- Agitato
But as they play I look around
For my guitar is gone
I look and look but cannot find
Then comes my time...   “I can't go on!”

This is absurd.  How can I play?
(What?  Did I hide it by design?
Is this my “out” as light breaks day,
An ironclad alibi?)
“I can't perform, no, not today.
I'll have to play another time.”

Var. 2 – Appassionato
My time has come, and there I sit
With my guitar in hand
And wonder what the hell to play
My mind a porous shifting sand

Completely unprepared I sit
And pray for intervention
I make up some simplistic ****
And play it with “emotion”

Var. 3 – Allegro con brio e subito calamitoso
This time round, it's different
I really want to play.
I'm ready, I'm inspired!
I'll play till break of day

I'll show them what I'm made of
They'll marvel and they'll cry
But my guitar just falls apart
“What?  Why now?  Why? WHY?”

The neck breaks off, the body splits,
the strings are hanging limply
I'm foiled again, I cannot play
I'm ******* (to put it simply)

Coda - Andantino Contemplativo
What does it mean, this silly dream
This wild subconscious spectre?
What nourishment for soul to glean
From such netherworldly nectar?

Hmmm...

I think that I should spend more time
With hands on wood and string
To reconnect with touch and sound
To let my veiled heart sing

To feel, and set those feelings free
Catharsis, true release
My sheepish nature put to bed
My denigration now to cease

For I have something bold to say
Now my true voice is ready
I'll sing again through wood and string
Rich and full and steady

Alive with truths that transcend words
Ego now at bay
Connecting with the universe
It's time for me to play

*Fine
I teach guitar at the University of Prince Edward Island... in my dreams I'm a student again, usually unprepared, reluctant to play.
Dorme la corriera
dorme la farfalla
dormono le mucche
nella stalla

il cane nel canile
il ***** nel bimbile
il fuco nel fucile
e nella notte nera
dorme la pula
dentro la pantera

dormono i rappresentanti
nei motel dell'Esso
dormono negli Hilton
i cantanti di successo
dorme il barbone
dorme il vagone
dorme il contino
nel baldacchino
dorme a Betlemme
Gesù bambino
un po' di paglia
come cuscino
dorme Pilato
tutto agitato

dorme il bufalo
nella savana
e dorme il verme
nella banana
dorme il rondone
nel campanile
russa la seppia
sul'arenile
dorme il maiale
all'Hotel Nazionale
e sull'amaca
sta la lumaca
addormentata

dorme la mamma
dorme il figlio
dorme la lepre
dorme il coniglio
e sotto i camion
nelle autostazioni
dormono stretti
i copertoni

dormono i monti
dormono i mari
dorme quel porco
di Scandellari
che m'ha rubato
la mia Liù
per cui io solo
porcamadonna
non dormo più.
Vyiirt'aan Nov 2017
Revenant vibrato
Amongst vivid spiccato
A droning tenuto
Amongst the chaos in presto

The pages show alla breve
Poco rubato, primo tempo
Agitato con fuoco
And con repetizione
To dal Segno we go

Add a Capo
Presto spiritoso
Clash straight into
Fermata

Fine
Dorme la corriera
dorme la farfalla
dormono le mucche
nella stalla

il cane nel canile
il ***** nel bimbile
il fuco nel fucile
e nella notte nera
dorme la pula
dentro la pantera

dormono i rappresentanti
nei motel dell'Esso
dormono negli Hilton
i cantanti di successo
dorme il barbone
dorme il vagone
dorme il contino
nel baldacchino
dorme a Betlemme
Gesù bambino
un po' di paglia
come cuscino
dorme Pilato
tutto agitato

dorme il bufalo
nella savana
e dorme il verme
nella banana
dorme il rondone
nel campanile
russa la seppia
sul'arenile
dorme il maiale
all'Hotel Nazionale
e sull'amaca
sta la lumaca
addormentata

dorme la mamma
dorme il figlio
dorme la lepre
dorme il coniglio
e sotto i camion
nelle autostazioni
dormono stretti
i copertoni

dormono i monti
dormono i mari
dorme quel porco
di Scandellari
che m'ha rubato
la mia Liù
per cui io solo
porcamadonna
non dormo più.

— The End —