Tag Archives: song

Four Improvs Later…

Posted on 12 November 2024 | Leave a comment 
It was maybe foolish, and ill-advised.
Now my brain won't stop 'till I'm penalized.
Seek solace in song, make air column hum:
Tunes ne'er before played, on euphonium.
Was not enough, I still want time machine
To avoid ill side effects: intervene.
Pluck metal strings o'er resonant wood frame,
With acoustic bass, minor blues tune, tame
My heart and my mind with what-ifs now racked.
But the time is too short to pacify;
And dark images, not yet past grim, fly.
Now to the page the turmoil can be tracked.
Tomorrow I must face the unknown score.
Resolution unknown, check back at four.

Copyright ©️ 2024 H.K. Longmore

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Songbird

Posted on 30 May 2024 | Leave a comment

“the liquid coolness of things drawn from the bottom of springs,” said Thoreau, of the song of a wood thrush.

A song I’ve yet to hear, but I’ve been told I should, paired with a wonderful singing voice, awaits out in the future night. Or perhaps it will be day when I hear that lay.

Will that song remind me of drawing water from the well of spring? (A task I’ve never done.)

Or will it evoke the heat of campfires on bitter winter nights?

Take away my breath as I plunge into a glacial lake not yet warmed by summer sun?

Restore it; a rescuer’s timely arrival on the scene, as waves wash my breathless body on the strand?

Will anticipation sour the grapes? Or sweeten the long awaited musical embrace?

I’ll pray I’ll hear it someday, even if only by His grace.

Copyright ©️ 2024 H.K. Longmore

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Sirens, Angels, and Recruiters

Posted on 18 December 2013 | 1 comment

Odysseus and the Sirens. An 1891 painting by J...

Odysseus and the Sirens. An 1891 painting by John William Waterhouse. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A recruiter for a company quite famous
Sought me out, activating my white ramus.
She shuffled the cards and splayed the deck
To tempt me with projects high tech.

The timing’s wrong, said I, though enticed.
She said she would again roll the dice
To see if feelings mine remained the same
In months a few (if few and couple share a name).

A couple have passed, and the idea’s tempting.
The coolness factor plays my vanity unrelenting;
But I’ve not heard her voice,
There could be a siren hidden in this choice.

And I’m still entranced by another voice:
The lure of siren or an angel that doth rejoice.
Yet voice of siren it cannot be, of this I am sure,
For a siren is always singing, always lures

And such is not the case.
Sometimes this voice is with caterwaul laced.
It oft times will test and try me;
Yet in proximity, from its power I cannot flee.

Is it the call of an angel then?
I have a key plucked from garden zen:
Pray tell, my friend, what is an angel?
A servant, a messenger—from Greek angelos.

No message by this voice hath been delivered;
No token of the Served hath my knees quivered.
A mere mortal then? And yet the voice I ken:
‘Tis a Muse for my pen.

So to the recruiter my thoughts return:
A siren lure, or an escape—a sauternes
To dull my mind, the power of the voice forget;
Kismet that the voice no more my heart beset?

My feelings do not so quickly change,
I’m loath my life to rearrange,
But it would provide the easy way out;
Leaving future wonder in full doubt.

My heart says the timing’s still off,
Though I avoid the voice by my cough.
Call it inaction, call it fate;
My head agrees and so I wait.

Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore

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