"amadeus" poems
Ha-Ha, Joker's laugh, wildcard coyote
dances a maniac tango, joking
in the midst of elemental chaos--
giggling at the lava, way hot
watching the castle's mortar dissolve, doting
the cacophonous crumbling symphony akin to Amadeus.
Ha-ha, joker's laugh, wildcard coyote
ignites a spliff with incandescent embers, smoking--
up under falling stars getting higher than the Himalayas
and more enlightened as the midnight parades off
into a translucent, steaming ashy bayou, hoping
there's a bite to eat before the heat waves doff
the darkness completely into blinding, hokey
sunbeams reflecting in snow, that cuckoo tune never lost,
Ha-ha, joker's laugh from that wildcard coyote.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC
Dwindle-Melt-Dissolve
Lips of the world lost
Unsolved
Evanesce bring to life
Live-Love- Dance
Prayers>> of >the> Providence
Lips deep--- tears-seeded
Life unfolds
Loved ones need to be hold
World spins High flower
Chin
Are we all connected within?
Anxiety on the rise
Weaken flower transforms to begin
Sun lips gladiolus
Melody of Mozart- Amadeus
Honeysuckle- Rose lips
Healing rain European trips
Winding minds of stairs
They lost the flowers
Bad politics and affairs
I saw the light*
Candle-lips star* bright
Lips got healed God sent
Don't dwell on life the big rent
Aug 15, 2021
Aug 15, 2021 at 12:12 PM UTC
All the sad faces, so quickly they appear
Those eyes they peer; like voyeurs of the night
As time approaches dusk, and light becomes dark
They disembark
From Upper York Street-
To the strongholds of the the Shore Road
Glimpsing in, people stare back
From the Spides of the north
To the elderly and beyond
Coughing and shuffling, moaning and groaning;
Oh! What a concert!
Amadeus would be a proud man indeed
As it slogs by I catch a fleeting glimpse
My face, appearing ever so different; sadder
It must be illusionary, right? Perhaps
Standing there, just thinking to myself
Will I ever see these people again?
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
Johanes Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Symphony No.6 in F major, (K 43)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EgG8qYcYTU
Tchaikovsky Symphony NO.6 (Full Length) : Seoul Phil Orchestra
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDqCIcsUtPI
Beethoven - 6th Symphony 'Pastoral' (Complete) ♫♥
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbfa86bTD34
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
Listening to Leopold’s symphony
for two minutes,
I was bored.
My mind wondered.
I recalled the dramatic first chords
of Wolfgang’s symphony 41
how it awakened me
how I was hooked by his energy and zest.
Even though Leopold taught his son,
the fame of the impulsive and creative Amadeus spread
as he wrote and played
and captured the attention of the world.
I wonder what poor Leopold thought of his own work
in contrast to his prolific son
a son who seemingly created great music
from nothing
who freed himself from tired conventions.
A creator makes something from nothing
and I wonder if being lost in nothingness
as we poets sometimes are,
if letting go of the familiar
makes it easier to create.
Dec 2, 2021
Dec 2, 2021 at 12:09 PM UTC
Prana flows through me like springtime,
Prussian blue glass jewels the coral sand.
I discover a life to claim as mine,
In a space of grace beyond time.
I bathe in Dead Sea salt and Spanish lime,
By candlelight Amadeus plays a baby grand.
In a space of grace beyond time,
I discover a life to claim as mine.
Crystal stairs illuminate the climb,
Old souls are close at hand.
I discover a life to claim as mine,
In a space of grace beyond time.
Dreams conceived in my prime,
Strong in faith, I stand.
In a space of grace beyond time,
I discover a life to claim as mine.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
Amadeus, where art thou? For I see you by yonder tree, speaking
to the squirrel’s nut.
Amadeus where art thou? You’re no Romeo, yet you sit under yonder balcony, muttering
gibberish under the bush.
I write this to you in sweat, for I have no blood nor ink to send to yonder hill atop which
you fancy a stroll.
I don’t fancy writing this, really, for I don’t quite know what to say as you gaze
at the grassy window pane behind which the kraken sits.
Amadeus where art thou? For this is your plight.
You can make sense not of anything I write.
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 6:21 PM UTC
Listen to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart while
Looking through psychedelic art
You'll find it
Quite the experience
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
Letters in the Alphabet
To some words mean everything
To me its all in the music
You see Abc gave me that
Lexicon of love
And I could only Imagine what
Lennon thought
Yet Pulp gave it all for the
Common people
But Bowie was my Hero
Good old Amadeus Rocked me at parties and
Boy George never hurt me as my
Enigma would always return me to innocence
Whilst at the back of my mind I would
Muse to thinking Time is running out
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
do you honestly believe
that just because she has
those infamous violin hips
that gives you any right
to play her?
you’ll be in for a
rude awakening
when you finally realize
no sweet harmony will
come from her
you will not hold her
by her delicate neck
and drag your worn bow
across her thin, ****** strings
as if she was the first, or last
orchestra instrument of yours
do not forget about
deep viola, and intuitive cello
do not mock mighty trumpet and jazzy sax
with your tenuous conductor’s wand
you are no master of a spectacular concerto.
go away Amadeus, you’ve lost your mind
if you can sit down comfortably
and think you won’t have to pay for
defacing every instrument in this precious ensemble
you once had.
-11/13/17 c.m.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 1:43 PM UTC
When Bach and Amadeus
Died in their sleep and agony
I wonder if they knew
What they had achieved
Was it worth the cost?
When the Alps were 145 centimeters
distant from today
and the earth still folds your music
In between its subducting page
I want your great stratovolcanical violins
To extrude pumice and grindstone
to crush sweet music in between
Mt. Rainier and an unknown garden
made somewhere deep
in my quantum dream
The sky takes your notes
It is a great teacher as well
and swell, it does
It tells
me a quadrillion dreams
in every iterative puff of smoke
In every collapse of possibility
of every cat ground to paste upon the street
and all the ones that purr locally
In the arms of some caring soul
A lesser spirit dreaming
In the arms of their god
You play with a broken leg
or an unattached eye
or shaved cilia
And yet still
Your skill
Outmatched
none but ourselves
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC
well, we were losers once,
but while the ferry from
calias to dover,
took two hours,
thanks to social media
we became instant, instants
of two hours shortened;
via pints of guinness at 5am;
falco only makes senses with films
like amadeus, rather than songs like
bloodhound gang's mope;
cheap **** cha cha cha:
ooh lollipop oops later, oh:
spy snuggle me a double d pillows for a yawn
with lactose tax and **** and differentiate sugars
homie - ganged up with crew of limp colts.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:42 PM UTC
A requiem symphonic-
a tribute to a dead one,
robust, orchestrated sympathetic my
ear heard, in string and choir,
blesses the true listener, the poet.
"Lord have mercy, on us....
the trumpet will send
its wondrous sound
throughout earth's sepulchers"-
I desire to mourn in such beauty.
Raise my tremors
to the heights,
with deepest regards,
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart!
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
oh sure sure, because Burroughs
didn't exactly celebrate his
****** addiction in his writing...
what's there, not to celebrate?
alcoholic or not,
i enjoy the masochism
involved in the recuperation period
of, the next day,
for about two hours,
before i come to my senses and
retain some form eloquence...
my English verbose plush...
of a tangerine, or a plum...
but hey...
no one says to a painter:
too many colors, or...
not enough colors...
but i'm pretty sure that
Mozart was criticized...
in that film: Amadeus...
by Emperor Leopold II...
too many notes... too many musical
notes...
**** well...
let's just listen to the ambient music
of the refrigerator's drone hum,
snooze, buzz and frizz.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
'
*I am never without Ludwig
that mess of tangled hair
accompanying me with his
fifth, ninth, and moonlight
• • • in my now unplugged ears
for his remains forever
resonant silence against
blaring cacophony of mind
bars on vibrant circus
stereo muted, no longer
blasting at my need to hear
thousands of times before
now lilts, indelibly sealed
o, but he moves me still*
_ __ ___ ✒
○●
°
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC