A question in one of those irritatingly interesting Facebook forwards which really struck me the other day, asked for "yesterday's best moment". I've become rather fond of the concept! So here are the best moments of some of my recent yester-days...
Monday: making the same jibe in unison with Linda at a choir rehearsal only moments after thinking how similarly expressive her eyes were to my own; then, having a chat with Kieran (a shelf-packer in Coles) about writing a musical, in the middle of doing my groceries.
Sunday: finding out after a long week that there was nothing else on and I could go straight home to 'letharge'!
Saturday: was that when I had my little rant to Sukhpreet about flattery-stalking?
Friday: giving Wilson his second flute lesson (in which he, in yr 4, having never done any music before, predicted the values of crotchets, quavers and semiquavers, asked the meaning of the "suffix" semi- (his words, in relation to 'semibreve'), had taught himself the fingering to low C and could get the sound with tonguing, and his mother offered to pay me extra for going over time); then, finding out that Andy does composition and is friends with others of my friends.
Thursday: being so cheerfully forgiven, first for turning up to rehearsal at the usual time instead of half an hour earlier as arranged, and then for having forgotten not only my baton, but also my scores.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
25th March 2009
Sheltered in shadow of flickering flame,
my muse awaits our dancing game.
Clear the clutter, set the scene,
lay the fire, dull the sheen
of modern life, crisp and clean.
Sheltered in shadow of flickering flame,
my muse awaits our dancing game.
Make a start, spread your wings,
stretch your mind, consider things
that challenge thought or pull heart strings.
Follow fancy's fickle flight
along the lonely trails of night
until you find your guiding light
that leads you to the final site
of inspiration shining bright.
Bite the bullet, grasp the horn,
fight the fast approaching dawn
for now your masterpiece is born.
Sheltered in shadow of flickering flame,
my muse awaits our dancing game.
my muse awaits our dancing game.
Clear the clutter, set the scene,
lay the fire, dull the sheen
of modern life, crisp and clean.
Sheltered in shadow of flickering flame,
my muse awaits our dancing game.
Make a start, spread your wings,
stretch your mind, consider things
that challenge thought or pull heart strings.
Follow fancy's fickle flight
along the lonely trails of night
until you find your guiding light
that leads you to the final site
of inspiration shining bright.
Bite the bullet, grasp the horn,
fight the fast approaching dawn
for now your masterpiece is born.
Sheltered in shadow of flickering flame,
my muse awaits our dancing game.
My Big Black Dog
Have you seen the K-Dog?
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
I've heard he's a bit of a joker,
I've heard he's a bit of a clown.
I've heard he can muster a snigger or smirk
from any determined frown.
But I've heard there's more to his story,
that despite his bitter renown,
he's a shit-hot musician, a 'high-IQ',
and nothing can drag him down.
Have you seen the K-Dog?
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
I've heard he chases chicks,
I've heard that they chase him.
I've heard he's had to chase them off,
though not for being prim!
But maybe that's just hearsay,
and I'm just being dim.
Perhaps such tales are trumped-up truths
of cockiness and whim.
Have you seen the K-Dog?
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
I've heard he's an under-achiever,
I've heard that he's gone astray.
I've heard that he's not on top of things,
that his life is in disarray.
But whatever the rumours tell you,
whatever people might say,
he's my dickhead brother, I love him to bits
and I might tell him so one day.
Have you seen the K-Dog?
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
I've heard he's a bit of a joker,
I've heard he's a bit of a clown.
I've heard he can muster a snigger or smirk
from any determined frown.
But I've heard there's more to his story,
that despite his bitter renown,
he's a shit-hot musician, a 'high-IQ',
and nothing can drag him down.
Have you seen the K-Dog?
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
I've heard he chases chicks,
I've heard that they chase him.
I've heard he's had to chase them off,
though not for being prim!
But maybe that's just hearsay,
and I'm just being dim.
Perhaps such tales are trumped-up truths
of cockiness and whim.
Have you seen the K-Dog?
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
I've heard he's an under-achiever,
I've heard that he's gone astray.
I've heard that he's not on top of things,
that his life is in disarray.
But whatever the rumours tell you,
whatever people might say,
he's my dickhead brother, I love him to bits
and I might tell him so one day.
Have you seen the K-Dog?
I think he's coming back.
Before he left I heard him say,
"They hate me 'cause I'm black!"
Gem of Solitude - April/May 2007
Retreating to a place of solitude,
I stumbled on a stone.
I fell. The force of it knocked the wind from me,
and there as I lay prone,
I saw myself reflected,
I found myself augmented,
I felt myself captivated,
I was fascinated
by the facets, gleaming in every hue,
of a precious gem that shone through.
I peered into the polished image
of this cutting crystal conglomerate,
searched inside my soul,
and there I discovered, uncovered,
a wealth of multifarious percipience,
organic gold
compressed into hardened, sharpened diamonds,
and the pearls of tentatious perspicacity
encased in a tarnished mercurial mould.
I saw myself reflected,
I found myself augmented,
I felt myself captivated,
I was fascinated
by the facets, gleaming in every hue,
of this precious gem that rang true.
As I clear the settled sediment
surrounding this glistening, exponential iceberg,
a trove of ordered complexity is revealed;
rich harmonies on smiling ears
open the curtains on a fresh outlook
of carefully reckless, cautious abandon, surreal
in these cold, marble roots
permeated with the glow of morning sunshine
otherwise thoroughly concealed.
I saw myself reflected,
I found myself augmented,
I felt myself captivated,
I was fascinated
by the facets, gleaming in every hue,
of the precious gem that that is you.
I stumbled on a stone.
I fell. The force of it knocked the wind from me,
and there as I lay prone,
I saw myself reflected,
I found myself augmented,
I felt myself captivated,
I was fascinated
by the facets, gleaming in every hue,
of a precious gem that shone through.
I peered into the polished image
of this cutting crystal conglomerate,
searched inside my soul,
and there I discovered, uncovered,
a wealth of multifarious percipience,
organic gold
compressed into hardened, sharpened diamonds,
and the pearls of tentatious perspicacity
encased in a tarnished mercurial mould.
I saw myself reflected,
I found myself augmented,
I felt myself captivated,
I was fascinated
by the facets, gleaming in every hue,
of this precious gem that rang true.
As I clear the settled sediment
surrounding this glistening, exponential iceberg,
a trove of ordered complexity is revealed;
rich harmonies on smiling ears
open the curtains on a fresh outlook
of carefully reckless, cautious abandon, surreal
in these cold, marble roots
permeated with the glow of morning sunshine
otherwise thoroughly concealed.
I saw myself reflected,
I found myself augmented,
I felt myself captivated,
I was fascinated
by the facets, gleaming in every hue,
of the precious gem that that is you.
Old Poetry - 18th March 2007
Ivory and alabaster,
creamy decadence,
opulence.
Rich ripples of mirth
resonating in reckless abandon.
creamy decadence,
opulence.
Rich ripples of mirth
resonating in reckless abandon.
Glowing - February/March 2007
I want to dance, I want to sing,
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
I was always idealistic,
with a somewhat optimistic
faith in people's better nature
and the thoughts behind their deeds.
But a certain realism
laced these thoughts with cynicism,
so they failed to meet my standards
and planted bitter seeds.
Still I held this shining theory,
though its absence made me weary
and I felt the disappointment
of my unenacted dreams;
I just persevered inflated
with my fervour unabated,
and undertook myself
to implement my own regimes.
I want to dance, I want to sing,
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
A silver lining glimmered
through the haziness, it shimmered
like a light without a tunnel,
like the current pasture green.
Was it tentative or vivacious,
was it tenuous or tenacious,
this hope of something precious
that only I had seen?
I thought I saw it clearly;
I believed in it sincerely,
so I gave my heart and soul
in order that its fate be sealed,
But a tunnel formed about me
and the pasture grew without me,
and at last the cloud sank low
so that its darkness was revealed.
It happened very slowly,
but I hung my head more lowly
and shrank within my soul
as I began my cold retreat.
I'd lost the polished sheen
of inner light, the spark unseen
that gives a voice to bursting song
and the fire to passion's heat.
Yet somehow there remained
a part of me that was unchanged,
uncompromised by tarnishes
of disrespect and spite.
Beneath the sooty smears
around the essence of my years
still glowed the everlasting embers
of my endless will to fight.
I want to dance, I want to sing,
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
Long it was before awareness
dawned on me of this unfairness,
when at last the dream was shattered
and lucidity ensued.
Thus it was that I emerged
intact from where my thoughts converged
in murky depths of troubled sleep
with vital strength renewed.
I regained the vigour of youth
from the hitherto hidden truth
that seemed to have dispersed
along with all that I held dear.
I woke from hibernation
with the poignant realisation
that all that might have been yet might be;
the way forward was clear.
I want to dance, I want to sing,
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
I was always idealistic,
with a somewhat optimistic
faith in people's better nature
and the thoughts behind their deeds.
But a certain realism
laced these thoughts with cynicism,
so they failed to meet my standards
and planted bitter seeds.
Still I held this shining theory,
though its absence made me weary
and I felt the disappointment
of my unenacted dreams;
I just persevered inflated
with my fervour unabated,
and undertook myself
to implement my own regimes.
I want to dance, I want to sing,
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
A silver lining glimmered
through the haziness, it shimmered
like a light without a tunnel,
like the current pasture green.
Was it tentative or vivacious,
was it tenuous or tenacious,
this hope of something precious
that only I had seen?
I thought I saw it clearly;
I believed in it sincerely,
so I gave my heart and soul
in order that its fate be sealed,
But a tunnel formed about me
and the pasture grew without me,
and at last the cloud sank low
so that its darkness was revealed.
It happened very slowly,
but I hung my head more lowly
and shrank within my soul
as I began my cold retreat.
I'd lost the polished sheen
of inner light, the spark unseen
that gives a voice to bursting song
and the fire to passion's heat.
Yet somehow there remained
a part of me that was unchanged,
uncompromised by tarnishes
of disrespect and spite.
Beneath the sooty smears
around the essence of my years
still glowed the everlasting embers
of my endless will to fight.
I want to dance, I want to sing,
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
Long it was before awareness
dawned on me of this unfairness,
when at last the dream was shattered
and lucidity ensued.
Thus it was that I emerged
intact from where my thoughts converged
in murky depths of troubled sleep
with vital strength renewed.
I regained the vigour of youth
from the hitherto hidden truth
that seemed to have dispersed
along with all that I held dear.
I woke from hibernation
with the poignant realisation
that all that might have been yet might be;
the way forward was clear.
I want to dance, I want to sing,
I want to whirl, I want to spin,
I want to stir up everything,
I want to leap out of my skin!
I'm glowing with elation
and intense anticipation,
as the friends I have adore me
and the whole world lies before me.
Old Poetry - 19th February 2007
In response to "please leave a limerick containing the meaning of life after the beep"...
Contemplating the meaning of life
causes many young people such strife!
They don't know what to do
with the number 42,
so they end it all with a knife.
Having acquiesced now to your request,
I shall insert my own little jest -
just so long as you can
try to please understand;
it was all at your own behest.
Your mission at this point in time
is to see past the humour of rhyme,
and detect on your own
who it is on the phone,
as forgetting a friend is a crime!
If you haven't a clue at all,
you'll just have to work up the gall:
double nine four zero
four seven two zero
is the number for you to call!
Contemplating the meaning of life
causes many young people such strife!
They don't know what to do
with the number 42,
so they end it all with a knife.
Having acquiesced now to your request,
I shall insert my own little jest -
just so long as you can
try to please understand;
it was all at your own behest.
Your mission at this point in time
is to see past the humour of rhyme,
and detect on your own
who it is on the phone,
as forgetting a friend is a crime!
If you haven't a clue at all,
you'll just have to work up the gall:
double nine four zero
four seven two zero
is the number for you to call!
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