The Piano Lurched Poem by Mark R Slaughter

Contact was sharp…

I jolted from immediacy of senses torn from mind -
Such was I at unawares with you;
To strike with Master's single chord that pounced and caught me blind -
Piano, how you lurched and rent me through!

Delightful music welcomed me to drift in quasi-syncope,
Soft tranquillo sought to rest my bones,
I glided reaching largo, sang with sweet cantabile, and
Forte let me in to louder tones.

I cried with lacrimoso, squirmed when agitato flared,
My hearing rang when fingers danced the trill.
And so it was, this maestro grand was genius declared -
Acting out in music for the thrill.

Translating pen to piano, this player takes me back thro' time:
In the chamber, fine composers charm;
I watch the manic hands of Liszt abound with charm sublime;
Mozart teased my mood with stark alarm.

Then entered Bach to demonstrate his mathematic flare,
Calculating notes aloft of form.
And I - the minion audience - sat wanting in my chair,
Having heard my idols all perform.

Did Darwin's theory tell at all why Man evolved this way?
Why would music help him to survive?
But scientific muse had veered my thoughts from this display, and
Music called: ‘Just listen - you're alive! '

The maestro draws conclusion; lets the piano die a death
To stand as wood, inert just as before -
A pollished casket lined with keys, at calm from naught of breath,
Bade me scream: ‘Bravo! ' and ‘Hail! Encore! '

He wakes the box to dance again with noble works of art -
Resurrected, fully primed with zest.
Now even I was back to life with reason in my heart -
Heightened from the pounding in my chest.


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved













































































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