"diapason" poems
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav’ns joy,
Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ
Dead things with inbreath’d sense able to pierce,
And to our high-rais’d phantasie present,
That undisturbed Song of pure content,
Ay sung before the saphire-colour’d throne
To him that sits theron
With Saintly shout, and solemn Jubily,
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow,
And the Cherubick host in thousand quires
Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,
With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,
Hymns devout and holy Psalms
Singing everlastingly;
That we on Earth with undiscording voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion’d sin
Jarr’d against natures chime, and with harsh din
The fair musick that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway’d
In perfect Diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O may we soon again renew that Song,
And keep in tune with Heav’n, till God ere long
To his celestial consort us unite,
To live with him, and sing in endles morn of light.
1.9k
This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling,
Like a huge ***** rise the burnished arms;
But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing
Startles the villages with strange alarms.
Ah! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary,
When the death-angel touches those swift keys!
What loud lament and dismal Miserere
Will mingle with their awful symphonies!
I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus,
The cries of agony, the endless groan,
Which, through the ages that have gone before us,
In long reverberations reach our own.
On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer,
Through Cimbric forest roars the Norseman’s song,
And loud, amid the universal clamor,
O’er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong.
I hear the Florentine, who from his palace
Wheels out his battle-bell with dreadful din,
And Aztec priests upon their teocallis
Beat the wild war-drums made of serpent’s skin;
The tumult of each sacked and burning village;
The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns;
The soldiers’ revels in the midst of pillage;
The wail of famine in beleaguered towns;
The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder,
The rattling musketry, the clashing blade;
And ever and anon, in tones of thunder
The diapason of the cannonade.
Is it, O man, with such discordant noises,
With such accursed instruments as these,
Thou drownest Nature’s sweet and kindly voices,
And jarrest the celestial harmonies?
Were half the power, that fills the world with terror,
Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts,
Given to redeem the human mind from error,
There were no need of arsenals or forts:
The warrior’s name would be a name abhorred!
And every nation, that should lift again
Its hand against a brother, on its forehead
Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain!
Down the dark future, through long generations,
The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease;
And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations,
I hear once more the voice of Christ say, “Peace!”
Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals
The blast of War’s great ***** shakes the skies!
But beautiful as songs of the immortals,
The holy melodies of love arise.
1.9k
Joy, shifts through my fingers, displaying true diapason
To all earth bound quality, I find truth in thw whispering wind,
Singing all true paroxysm of chaos into one binding solidarity.
For why I have benn this far? Faught this hard, Unmoved, swayed
By the pestamistic animals rotting away in this system of survival
Farther than the eye can see we run in hope of flourishing past our own beliefs.
A piviotal concept it is, runing for deeper understanding and merriment
when the amaurotic people choose to not see it was in your hands the whole time.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
i move in silence
tip
toe
you can't hear me
tip
toe
i move in silence
a kaleidoscope of faces
unrecognizable
blurs in a humanoid shape
the only difference
between them
is the occasional color change
or hat
i move in silence
voices merge
and become loud
bass-boosted noises
no longer human
but mechanical
i move in silence
each step i take
meticulously placed
like a child
walking on stepping stones
over-exaggerated motions
i move in silence
even my voice is inaudible
the air moves past my vocal chords
but no sound accompanies it
i am reticent
i move in silence
bodies shove me aside
until i eventually reach
a wall
it's at this point
i give up
and collapse upon the marble
tears begin to form
as i feel more discouraged
i battle against them
but
my tears always win
in the end
i sit on the floor
a shell-shocked ball
mute
and alone
you move with music
a melody cascades from you
rivulets of aria
dripping from your shoes
you move with music
you don't recognize the faces either
you move too fast for them
they don't hear your song
and you wouldn't care either way
you move with music
you aren't walking
each footfall is not a promenade
but a dance
no
not a dance
you move like i
but
instead of precise movements
you skip
like a child would
across the playground
you move with music
i could hear your diapason
from the wall
i saw you
differently from the others
an untouchable paragon
i found your eyes
you found mine
i felt my heart stop
for no one had seen me
until you
your music changed
it was no longer a simple chime
but a complex arrangement
but still just as rich and ethereal
you broke from the current
weaving between personages
like it was rehearsed
my eyes were fixated on you
i was curious
and afraid
why were you approaching me?
is it a misunderstanding?
i averted my eyes
i assumed that
i was not your objective
but
indeed
i was
you approached me
and i looked up
facing you
you kneeled
and took my hand
and told me
"Let's go."
i used to move in silence
but now
our combined melody
is a chant
a rallying cry
an anthem
for anyone whose ears
can hear it
i used to move in silence
now all i hear is music
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 9:04 PM UTC
*Across a looking glass pond -
facing zephyr music revelry
Atop paint-by-number artworks , leaves
in brotherhood with perfect rainbows ,
shine on midday tall 'Lantern of God' ,
ruminations of a change in season , of
eventide convocations with the North Star
and frosted narrows , October operas of
wind carillon and songbird , golden bottom
land misty coming of nightfall , the sconce
of The Little Dipper and Orion , of woodland
diapason , timely Whipporwill and Thrush* ...
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
Within the Crescent City the confluence of architect , engineer , master carpenter and laborer combined , precision , create a cascading sea of individual notes and three bold harmonious divisions ,wind chest , regulator and tremolo breathe life into reed , flaute ,vox humana and diapason pipe of all sizes , large and small ...
Her towering facade , en chamade with a voice of the Almighty, so stands this mechanical wonder of wood , metal , cloth , leather.. For this tonal masterpiece will stand the test of time not for song , but as a testament to the imagination , wisdom and determination of her creators !.....
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 8:34 AM UTC
The white flag
collected colour
once he entered
the room
-cj
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC