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Nigel Morgan Jan 2013
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.
Find out more about the music of Heartstone here: http://www.nigel-morgan.co.uk
SøułSurvivør Sep 2014
Cheek poised on the violin
Rosin on the bow,
She takes her music places
Where others cannot go.

In the caves of icicles
Or in the desert heat
Playing with a Pentatonics
The 'Radioactive' beat.

Her hands meld with her violin
Music pumps from her heart.
Her instrument becomes a part of her
She bleeds for her art!

She can make a sound
Like a soughing sob,
Or make a pinnacle of joy
That is heard by God.

But no matter what art inspired her
She would rise to fame
That's just her very nature...

... Lindsey Sterling is her name.
This poem is for Poetic T.
She is one of our faves!
LERCH Apr 2018
Aw yeah, So greatful to be spreading peanut butter over
Warm bagels for breakfast today.

Mhm, whole grain and gluten free.
i was so hungry,
I wouldnt care if they were full of gluten,
And Grainless.
I shove a piece into my anticipant mouth
And think, "thank God"
As i sit and eat em.

I cant help but look forward
To when i am sitting, and looking at the most beautiful back-of-head
That belongs to the beautiful girl, who is the thesis of my daydreaming.

****** at the fact that i can't find a lighter,
I turn the stove on high.
15 minutes till class, Perfect amount of time to smoke this clip.

As i step outside i allow the day to rudely awaken my eyes, and i appreciate the same old sunny blue sky, and trees
And i watch as a leaf falls in a way that seemed just for me. 

I stroll to class merrily saying greetings to my fellow Limestone Saints.
Aw yeah, psychology class.
Piaget and whatnot, cognitive development and whatnot, nature vs nurture, yada yada.

I notice that i am actually interested.
I like the teacher. He shares a lot of his experiences with us if they relate to the subject.
The day we talked about drugs i jokingly asked "have you ever tried drugs?" I was surprised at his honest answer.

He even described what it was like for him to us.
"Its like woah" he said, and he held his hands out like he was beholding something great, his eyes as wide as possible. "Words just don't describe it."

Today's lesson was on....  Stages of Development.
As the class goes on i consider what level i might be at. I know I think like an 80 year old but c'mon, i don't go to parties; I am the party !

So class was interesting, but my teacher spoke 3 minutes pass release time.
That must be what prison feels like.

Now we go. Bye class. Bye teacher. Ah, so now i am done with my only class of the day, and i just need to do hw and study. Its true what Gable said; "once u have wrestled everything else in life is easy." This is my first year not wrestling, and it is as if all the difficulty in my life has vanished.

Then i saw that beautiful back-of-head. i got the nerve up to approach this angelic girl who is just so magnetic to me.
I felt a chill when i tapped her on the shoulder.

I told her of my feelings for her as we walked, and i felt a warm gush of hope swelling up in me as she blushed.
But lo, She nobly turned down my request to hang out becuase she had a boyfriend.
"But we can be Friends", she told me.
Story of my life.

But i was as happy as if she said i was her boyfriend, because i made her laugh twice, and her smile is etched in my mind.
Aw yeah, i enjoyed our talk.

But work work work, thats what life is, so off i go to the library like a good little *****. Uncle sam's *****.

Literature for the adolescent; i love this class, but if i don't keep up theres no way ill pass.
Two novels a week !

So i did a booksheet on "Dope Sick" by Walter Dean myers.
A great read.
Lil j reminds me of me; just a brother tryna eat.

But after this assignment, i am academically free for the weekend !
I love the feeling. Sweet.
So i got nothing better to do than go watch the intersquad match.
Ugh, wrestling.

Alas, our tumultuous relationship is over.
But ill watch kuz my friends are in action.
Ritch !
Kayo !
Cliff !
Zoe !
They've still got passion for you, but Iord knows i don't.

I'm actually so grateful that im not elgible this year on a technicality.
But ill go watch the match, and support my old teammates.

Dudes wrestling.
Dudes smackin each others heads.
Dudes taking highcrotches.
Dudes grabbin each others legs.
Dudes putting dudes in cradles.
Dudes picking top bottom, and neutral.
I am thoroughly sick of it, and watching these matches helped me realize that.

So i watched until the wrestling was over, and i knew that for me wrestling was definitely over.
As i walked out of the room i felt a reassuring feeling of closure.
No more wrestling for lerch :)

One thing left to do !
I must practice the piano.
Major scales, minor scales, pentatonics of course !
Go up in octaves, 3rds, 4ths.
Do the 1, then the 5, and the 4
In every major key.
Then do some more!

Aw yeah, here is where i am truly free; the keys! The keys!
If no one will listen, ill just play for me.
The stress builds up; i just play to ease it.

A great day, without a hitch.
Nothing left to do
but to smoke, and eat.

Thank You Lord

— The End —