"pentatonic" poems - Hello Poetry

Heartstone is a reflection in music on a ‘lost’ poem. The poem described in its two short verses a summer’s day, a landscape, a fossil found and placed in the palm of a child’s hand. The poem inspired a seven-movement work for wind, brass and percussion with solo piano. Here is its poetic programme note. Chert The piano draws an arc of rhythm rising then falling. Above two choirs of wind and brass exclaim, fanfare, mark out shorter, determined gestures of sound. The procession, almost a march, becomes a dance. Alone Two choirs of wind and brass become four couples whose music weaves from complexity a simplicity: Chromatic to Pentatonic twelve becoming five. Prase Four stopped horns, five extended tonalities. Together they wander a maze of Pentatonic paths; alone, and in pairs, as a quartet they discover within a measured harmonic rhythm. Tension: resolution . . . and surrounding their every move the piano insists an obligato, a continuum of phrases, absorbing into itself the warp and weft of horn tone. Sard Oscillating in perpetual motion the full ensemble occupies a frame of time and space. Flutes, reeds, double-reeds brass, piano, percussion mirror-fold on mirror-fold layer upon layer overlapping. Yarns of threaded sound. Tuff Without a break the mirrored oscillations patter pentatonics on tuned percussion of marimba and vibraphone whilst a batterie of drums lays down shards of beaten rhythm against this onward folding of tonality change. In the background a choir of winds flutes and single reeds waymark this recursive journey gathering together cadential moments and the necessary pause for breath. Marl Relentlessly, the motion is sustained, piano-driven, a syncopated continuo, rhythm-sectioned amidst layers of percussion. Adding edge, a choir of brass and double reeds amplify the piano’s jagged rhythms providing impetus for phrases to become longer and longer, ratching up the tension, ever-denying closure until the batterie delivers a conclusive flourish. Paramoudra Pulse-figures of winds. Motific cells of brass. Both negotiate a stream of fractal-shaped tonality expanding: contracting. A blossom of fanfares folding into pulsating layers of tuned percussion, flutes and reeds. A dance-like episode absorbs a chorale. Four horns in close harmony against the continuing dance. A duet of differences flows into a cascade of chords in closed and open forms. The piano supports brass-flourishing figures before a final stillness. Heartstone In gentle reflection the solitary piano – a figure in a landscape of collapsed harmonic forms - presents in slow procession the essence of previous music.

0

Jan 27, 2013

Jan 27, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC

nigel-morgan

Heartstone

Heartstone is a reflection in music on a ‘lost’ poem. The poem described in its two short verses a summer’s day, a landscape, a fossil found and placed in the palm of a child’s hand. The poem inspired a seven-movement work for wind, brass and percussion with solo piano. Here is its poetic programme note. Chert The piano draws an arc of rhythm rising then falling. Above two choirs of wind and brass exclaim, fanfare, mark out shorter, determined gestures of sound. The procession, almost a march, becomes a dance. Alone Two choirs of wind and brass become four couples whose music weaves from complexity a simplicity: Chromatic to Pentatonic twelve becoming five. Prase Four stopped horns, five extended tonalities. Together they wander a maze of Pentatonic paths; alone, and in pairs, as a quartet they discover within a measured harmonic rhythm. Tension: resolution . . . and surrounding their every move the piano insists an obligato, a continuum of phrases, absorbing into itself the warp and weft of horn tone. Sard Oscillating in perpetual motion the full ensemble occupies a frame of time and space. Flutes, reeds, double-reeds brass, piano, percussion mirror-fold on mirror-fold layer upon layer overlapping. Yarns of threaded sound. Tuff Without a break the mirrored oscillations patter pentatonics on tuned percussion of marimba and vibraphone whilst a batterie of drums lays down shards of beaten rhythm against this onward folding of tonality change. In the background a choir of winds flutes and single reeds waymark this recursive journey gathering together cadential moments and the necessary pause for breath. Marl Relentlessly, the motion is sustained, piano-driven, a syncopated continuo, rhythm-sectioned amidst layers of percussion. Adding edge, a choir of brass and double reeds amplify the piano’s jagged rhythms providing impetus for phrases to become longer and longer, ratching up the tension, ever-denying closure until the batterie delivers a conclusive flourish. Paramoudra Pulse-figures of winds. Motific cells of brass. Both negotiate a stream of fractal-shaped tonality expanding: contracting. A blossom of fanfares folding into pulsating layers of tuned percussion, flutes and reeds. A dance-like episode absorbs a chorale. Four horns in close harmony against the continuing dance. A duet of differences flows into a cascade of chords in closed and open forms. The piano supports brass-flourishing figures before a final stillness. Heartstone In gentle reflection the solitary piano – a figure in a landscape of collapsed harmonic forms - presents in slow procession the essence of previous music.

112

i am sitting here. blank face. counting the ripples on the pool. one.... two.... ok, enough. the hairs on my arm? too many. too blonde. practice minor pentatonic scales? if only i knew what they were good for. blues scales? ok. root, flat third, fourth, sharp fourth, flat seventh, eighth. **** i'll be proud if that's right.] overthink everything. write way too many poems, save them all as drafts. wonder if you'd even respond. think of calling you. decide not to. "your unwanted calls"... or something that you wrote forever ago, keeps me away. you keep me away. [if only you handled this by saying maybe in the long run we'll actually get to know each other... this is for the best. wouldn't that be grand? wouldn't that be way better than some short term relationship that would just end in this hatred for me anyway?] i pout, look out the window, notice the blue sky. i wonder why you can't be happy. i wonder why I can't be happy.

0

Jul 28, 2014

Jul 28, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC

stephane-noir

drunk on a monday.

i am sitting here. blank face. counting the ripples on the pool. one.... two.... ok, enough. the hairs on my arm? too many. too blonde. practice minor pentatonic scales? if only i knew what they were good for. blues scales? ok. root, flat third, fourth, sharp fourth, flat seventh, eighth. **** i'll be proud if that's right.] overthink everything. write way too many poems, save them all as drafts. wonder if you'd even respond. think of calling you. decide not to. "your unwanted calls"... or something that you wrote forever ago, keeps me away. you keep me away. [if only you handled this by saying maybe in the long run we'll actually get to know each other... this is for the best. wouldn't that be grand? wouldn't that be way better than some short term relationship that would just end in this hatred for me anyway?] i pout, look out the window, notice the blue sky. i wonder why you can't be happy. i wonder why I can't be happy.

34

Oh, my cherished- If I could give you him I'd wrap him in picnic plaid Like the gift he should be (I know you'd like that) And I'd tie him to you by his tweed and sheepish smiles, so tight that you'd turn into a Great Ancient Tree. Darling, if I could shake the demons out of your forest, I'd holler at them in a pentatonic fury and bend them from your nation. (With air. Not fire) My Siamese twin, connected at the heart, If I could give you the world I'd carry it to you like Atlas though I'd have to work on my long distance running. I'd do it for you. I'd do it a hundred, and bring you all the jam ever jellied.

0

Mar 9, 2013

Mar 9, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC

mure

Dear Wallamo

Oh, my cherished- If I could give you him I'd wrap him in picnic plaid Like the gift he should be (I know you'd like that) And I'd tie him to you by his tweed and sheepish smiles, so tight that you'd turn into a Great Ancient Tree. Darling, if I could shake the demons out of your forest, I'd holler at them in a pentatonic fury and bend them from your nation. (With air. Not fire) My Siamese twin, connected at the heart, If I could give you the world I'd carry it to you like Atlas though I'd have to work on my long distance running. I'd do it for you. I'd do it a hundred, and bring you all the jam ever jellied.

23

Each smokestack tranced across the side of the rust colored Hall As an ancient Chinese paper dragon Bobbing and Weaving With feather pentatonic tea leaves White and green Silk and screen Opaque paper culture

0

Dec 10, 2013

Dec 10, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC

paul-rousseau

Tea Leaves Thoughts Alone

Each smokestack tranced across the side of the rust colored Hall As an ancient Chinese paper dragon Bobbing and Weaving With feather pentatonic tea leaves White and green Silk and screen Opaque paper culture

8

When your fingers move within the betweens of keys, white then black, scaling and tumbling through and over knuckles and joints and wrinkled imprints does your chest flutter arpeggios and dance along with tender pale-pink ballet slippers balancing, spinning in a reflecting room of mirrors, the echoes of a pentatonic scale the pounding of parallel chords nudging your toes exactly right, do you forget your wives and daughter, both Emma’s, when you let the genius-flow and the grand piano waltz with your soul, do you fall in love with something more I cant describe in verse, delicate Debussy.

0

Nov 14, 2014

Nov 14, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC

chase-graham

For Claude

When your fingers move within the betweens of keys, white then black, scaling and tumbling through and over knuckles and joints and wrinkled imprints does your chest flutter arpeggios and dance along with tender pale-pink ballet slippers balancing, spinning in a reflecting room of mirrors, the echoes of a pentatonic scale the pounding of parallel chords nudging your toes exactly right, do you forget your wives and daughter, both Emma’s, when you let the genius-flow and the grand piano waltz with your soul, do you fall in love with something more I cant describe in verse, delicate Debussy.

20

rubicon hangover sherbert lemon sunrise butterscotch ******* with an afterbirth smile pastiche or phantom beautiful proportion cutting mothers apron the circle of time location location circumnavigation stylised continuum great britain is a lie mass for the masses blood on the carpet thank you for not smoking its a marvel we're alive thirty thousand drowning thirty fathoms counting suffer little children not in my back garden slumber in a haven sleeping with forbidden waterfalls and gravestones selfish over soil war americana revolutionara helicopter complex compliment our ego nuclear disaster what use is a master fall out over fallout tinnitus and drones avalanche of feedback pentatonic ***** slap abstinent castrati carry me away shiver orchestration gentle fornication sexually vacant naturally vague

0

May 3, 2016

May 3, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC

andy-blackwell

Untitled

rubicon hangover sherbert lemon sunrise butterscotch ******* with an afterbirth smile pastiche or phantom beautiful proportion cutting mothers apron the circle of time location location circumnavigation stylised continuum great britain is a lie mass for the masses blood on the carpet thank you for not smoking its a marvel we're alive thirty thousand drowning thirty fathoms counting suffer little children not in my back garden slumber in a haven sleeping with forbidden waterfalls and gravestones selfish over soil war americana revolutionara helicopter complex compliment our ego nuclear disaster what use is a master fall out over fallout tinnitus and drones avalanche of feedback pentatonic ***** slap abstinent castrati carry me away shiver orchestration gentle fornication sexually vacant naturally vague

40

There are moments in my life that are too wild and beautiful to be tamed or captured by words or sentences. Musical notes could do a better job at conveying the experience. D minor or C sharp major. My mind replays the moments, alive with pentatonic scales and the taste of homemade apple cider, and pomegranate security. I smell the burning leaves of late October, and feel the smooth nose of my childhood Appaloosa, her dappled coat, and trusting eyes. Sometimes the world, and all its goodness stupifies me, and leaves my spirit rocking gently in a cradle, where I know it's all going to be okay.

0

Sep 18, 2024

Sep 18, 2024 at 9:21 PM UTC

thomas-w-case

Better Than Gold

There are moments in my life that are too wild and beautiful to be tamed or captured by words or sentences. Musical notes could do a better job at conveying the experience. D minor or C sharp major. My mind replays the moments, alive with pentatonic scales and the taste of homemade apple cider, and pomegranate security. I smell the burning leaves of late October, and feel the smooth nose of my childhood Appaloosa, her dappled coat, and trusting eyes. Sometimes the world, and all its goodness stupifies me, and leaves my spirit rocking gently in a cradle, where I know it's all going to be okay.

28

September, 11, Night falls, Curtains rise, *Empyreal Realm! * Blooms a new Flower, Beavers lift their head, They are not shy, Night blossoms, silvery-pink, their fragrance stolen, they are envious, The Guitarist has a note to sing, a pentatonic melody, of love, of gleam, The princess blushes, in her silvery white gown, She was an embryo, lulled by Angels and Seraphs, Just A week ago! Her dazzling beauty, Mesmerizing! But why did she steal their fragrance tonight?

0

Nov 23, 2017

Nov 23, 2017 at 2:27 AM UTC

entwinedroses

A moment's bliss

September, 11, Night falls, Curtains rise, *Empyreal Realm! * Blooms a new Flower, Beavers lift their head, They are not shy, Night blossoms, silvery-pink, their fragrance stolen, they are envious, The Guitarist has a note to sing, a pentatonic melody, of love, of gleam, The princess blushes, in her silvery white gown, She was an embryo, lulled by Angels and Seraphs, Just A week ago! Her dazzling beauty, Mesmerizing! But why did she steal their fragrance tonight?

13