Categories
poetry

The Orchestra

A longer poem, but it’s a longer story. It feels stupid to continue to pull memories from this time, but my creativity knew no bounds more than a year ago. And I can’t […]

It started with a single note

A single glance

A single step in the right direction

The wrong direction

It was a quirk of lips

A spasm of the brow

Which just jumbled up the melodies

Until we became an awkward duet

Not entirely unpleasant

The flat tones of the bass rang out

The flutes began to trill warning signals

I was already long gone

It continued with a text

Another measure

Another line

Another rest

The violin’s concerto still rips my soul

As I waited for the little black notes to begin again

As I waited for the rest to end

The silence to end

After that, it was the brass

And the winds

Shrieking

Warning

Sliding up and down scales

As my mind slid up and down

Up and down

Up and down

Until the cymbal crash sounded

And I thought it finished

Three measures later

Two octaves lower

The bass began anew

I can still hear it sometimes

Even when the broken flute chimed

I still listened

Even when the trumpet took the flute’s place

I still stayed

Beethoven wallowed

Mozart shrieked

Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich ranted

But I burned

What went from three melodies became four

Then six

Then twelve

Until I couldn’t keep up

Until every measure of silence stole breath

Until I couldn’t speak

The music never came to an abrupt stop

The cymbals didn’t crash again

The ending melody wasn’t raised an octave then lowered respectively

The music came to an end when the broken flute uttered one last line

With the musician out of breath

And the notes wavering like a whisper

And only one of us survived the finale

Only one of us remained in our seats

And it wasn’t me

***

A longer poem, but it’s a longer story. It feels stupid to continue to pull memories from this time, but my creativity knew no bounds more than a year ago. And I can’t express my utter surprise when I had my time epiphany. To think! A year ago this orchestra played and half of that time later I left that symphonic concert. Ah, well. There are better concertos out there.

By griffalice

A poet, an artist, and an explorer.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s