Empty hands,
should be moving
a piano,
heaving a computer,
over the edge.
The Art of Fugue drives me,
bounces me
to violent, good crashing.
Not as bad as I seem,
I love my Bach,
working to fire
the good into the blue bubbles.
Watch me wave,
love my soul.
Angels, Art, Compassion, Etudes, Idealism, Love, Poems, Poetry, Purpose, recovery
This entry was posted on August 17, 2011, 10:01 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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#1 by Hudson Howl on August 17, 2011 - 10:27 pm
Bach’s ‘The Art of Fugue’ -am a shamed to admit I know little of that which you find so passionate. Yet, I think understand. As Van Morrison’s ‘Wavelength’ gets my passions reverberating.
#2 by Carl on August 18, 2011 - 8:45 pm
The Bach is an acquired taste, but once acquired, it is the most beautifully perfect art in the world.
#3 by abichica on August 17, 2011 - 10:35 pm
beautiful poetry, i should say “The Art of Fugue” drives me as well.. 🙂
#4 by Carl on August 18, 2011 - 8:45 pm
Thank you for your comment!
#5 by Fountains on August 18, 2011 - 9:39 am
I had to look it up. You taught me something.
#6 by Carl on August 18, 2011 - 8:47 pm
Listen to the Canadian Brass do it. It is a powerful experience.
#7 by Fountains on August 20, 2011 - 11:40 am
I shall!
#8 by pattisj on August 18, 2011 - 5:16 pm
Empty hands should be conducting an orchestra.
#9 by Carl on August 18, 2011 - 8:48 pm
or playing a trombone!