Friday, June 27, 2014

Every now and then I take out a book into which I have written over many years words, words, words… not all of the words became poetry, but on a day in June more than thirty years ago, I put down a page full of words in a certain order that expressed then what I still now want to happen to me… what I go out looking for when I get on my bicycle and head out with no specific destination in mind.


I AM AN ORCHESTRA

If I could be any instrument in the orchestra
I would choose the oboe for mellow, earthy tones
Or the clarinet to ride the roller coaster
Of notes and scales up and around
Or the flute like a tropical bird
Unless the trumpet called
Before or after playing down below
With cello or bass
Or violin crying and wailing
Or French horn singing
Through the thunder of timpani
Or tap dancing and marching
Through drums and marimba.

Making only one kind of music
May be enough for some people,
But not for me.
Let all the melodies of earth
And all the contramelodies, too,
Be played through me at least once.
I want to be everything.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed you “page full of words” that you wrote 30 years ago. Maybe its my musical background, but I identified with the poem.