Sing-song, chip, splendid
town street, a black tall top hat.
Perfect gray, fifties
black top, ornate curly wood
then dance stops loud, anger starts.
Art, Dance, Depression, Fear, Music, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Seeking God, Shostakovich, Tanka
This entry was posted on March 29, 2011, 10:21 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0.
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#1 by Evelyn on March 30, 2011 - 4:49 am
That first line!
Ha! There really is nothing you can’t do.
#2 by Carl on March 30, 2011 - 7:26 am
Oh, you! You are too generous!
#3 by carldagostino on March 31, 2011 - 5:16 am
I never heard anything Russian music wise. Is it stoic, fullof pain and tragic endings like their literature ?
#4 by Carl on March 31, 2011 - 7:22 am
It comes from the same fire. Full of pain.
This is the piece that inspired the piece:
Shostakovich is my favorite by far.
This piece is what sold me on Shostakovich when I was 13 – One written in reflection on Lennon’s life – 4 minutes of the most sheer terror of hell on earth, the second movement of the 10th symphony:
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