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Plane Poetry: I go to Barber aisle seat C 14, an emergency exit row, forced to solemnly swear that for the extra legroom, I will solemnly assist to open the exit door, me first as my reward, and keep my terrified screaming below an elephant's trumpeting mating call what hast this to do with a trip to Barber? you Brits and Aussies, ever economical, say went 'to hospital,' leaving we Ameddicans to dignify that august institution as going to The Hospital Thus advised, be apprised, a Nota Bene Benidictus: I go to Barber, Not I go to the barber. Samuel Barber, Adagio for String Quartet, Barber If unfamiliar with this piece, you will recall it well if "Apocalypse Now" registers at all If not stop immediately, return to Go, start here, www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRMz8fKkG2g be prepared to surrender your mortality, listen and if effected, if you find yourself on your knees weeping, recalling the days of loss, the early empires of hope, the first kiss of your firstborn and unknowingly, the last you gave a loved one if you have the courage to be touched and impacted, as I, then welcome back to right here where why... *I go to Barber where violins soar me heavenwards, where violins rip open sores long since scarred over, I go to Barber and float, eyes sky'd, as water fills and departs my body simultaneously, I go to Barber to know that art can rise beyond, that my weakened, wrecked human flesh, surpassable   I go to Barber to harmonize my disconcordia, romantic lyricisize my waning days, I go to Barber to voluntary confess, admit my impoverishment, to acknowledge that they, my days, yet are capable, I go to Barber to remember and to forget, to mark and unmark time I go to Barber to be created and recreated, to be destructed and despaired I go to Barber to acknowledge, as human, better is forever possible, for of the god spark, yet unextinguished I go to Barber because there is no plane as fast as his slow adagio, to transport me to the who I am and should yet be*
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Plane Poetry: I go to Barber
Plane Poetry: I go to Barber aisle seat C 14, an emergency exit row, forced to solemnly swear that for the extra legroom, I will solemnly assist to open the exit door, me first as my reward, and keep my terrified screaming below an elephant's trumpeting mating call what hast this to do with a trip to Barber? you Brits and Aussies, ever economical, say went 'to hospital,' leaving we Ameddicans to dignify that august institution as going to The Hospital Thus advised, be apprised, a Nota Bene Benidictus: I go to Barber, Not I go to the barber. Samuel Barber, Adagio for String Quartet, Barber If unfamiliar with this piece, you will recall it well if "Apocalypse Now" registers at all If not stop immediately, return to Go, start here, www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRMz8fKkG2g be prepared to surrender your mortality, listen and if effected, if you find yourself on your knees weeping, recalling the days of loss, the early empires of hope, the first kiss of your firstborn and unknowingly, the last you gave a loved one if you have the courage to be touched and impacted, as I, then welcome back to right here where why... *I go to Barber where violins soar me heavenwards, where violins rip open sores long since scarred over, I go to Barber and float, eyes sky'd, as water fills and departs my body simultaneously, I go to Barber to know that art can rise beyond, that my weakened, wrecked human flesh, surpassable   I go to Barber to harmonize my disconcordia, romantic lyricisize my waning days, I go to Barber to voluntary confess, admit my impoverishment, to acknowledge that they, my days, yet are capable, I go to Barber to remember and to forget, to mark and unmark time I go to Barber to be created and recreated, to be destructed and despaired I go to Barber to acknowledge, as human, better is forever possible, for of the god spark, yet unextinguished I go to Barber because there is no plane as fast as his slow adagio, to transport me to the who I am and should yet be*
Over the Carolina's? 3+ years later, came https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2250737/yet-another-violin-adagio/
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
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