Your Poetry Dot Com - When Symphony Rocked

Array ( [sid] => 182264 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => When Symphony Rocked [time] => 2015-12-05 12:37:51 [hometext] => An observation on convention, age, youth and breaking boundaries. (Watched a clip from 2Cellos, a duo) [bodytext] =>
A hush;
pregnant expectations of molded sounds all heard before,
soft, polite applause greet convention's tread
of slippered feet to lonely seats on waiting polished floor;
two young men, cellos in tow,
take a bow, a seat;
(But not 'ere trading looks only
two could of meaning know).
“Oh my, what a show!”, whispered silent looks abound as wisps waft
eye to eye in silence paused for hair to string;
anticipation palpable for wood, metal, excellence
to life to married sing.

Oh, shared looks, two by two, man to man,
eyebrows raised in fun to cocky plan;
sparkling both alone in vast hall,
bow to lover's touch with curtain up-
silence falls.
Subtle shine to crinkling eyes at their merry lark;
thousands seated, (afterthoughts)
to the journey forth they
upon embark.

Program's promise by soft light,
centuries repeated, ensured delight.
Vivaldi-esque, Zoloft Seasons lethargy all four,
“Yes, yes...so pleasing..” grey haired older smiles traded
whilst youth dragged in crinoline to duty,
good son's and daughter's eyebrows roll;
this night the price, another toll paid to providers
of home, hearth, clothes, meat.
“Quiet! Listen, quit your shuffling feet!”
hushed to young as duo take their seat.

Monkeys not tonight. Surprise!
Unlamented, bow to strings grow in tone and speed increasing
fleeting measured tonal beat.

Joy and mischief spring and dance 'tween their eyes
as bows on string flounce and prance
to music ne'er heard fore this;
“What sound they make?”, elders hiss.
Youthful drear to smiles turn,
fingers tap and toes they turn to tune of tempo
felt in hearts- youthful joy anew,
unknown to well established arts;
frowns to gown barnacled hearts.

In frenzy now, the duo spring from chairs,
stepping lively to an audience
for the pair not there,
one drops to floor to roll around,
cello held as lover, (indeed, it is)
this beauty,
music flowing from the ground.

Whence fingers, bow, cello all-
stop!
In freezing moment to befall
a crowd stunned, unsure of what they've heard-
“To clap?” “To jeer?”
Alas, to do as people do; simply sit and stare.

But smiles wide to dwarf the sun
beam from duo, one to won.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uT3SBzmDxGk [comments] => 6 [counter] => 352 [topic] => 54 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => happypoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - When Symphony Rocked

When Symphony Rocked
Date: Saturday, 5th December 2015 @ 12:37:51 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Invierno

A hush;
pregnant expectations of molded sounds all heard before,
soft, polite applause greet convention's tread
of slippered feet to lonely seats on waiting polished floor;
two young men, cellos in tow,
take a bow, a seat;
(But not 'ere trading looks only
two could of meaning know).
“Oh my, what a show!”, whispered silent looks abound as wisps waft
eye to eye in silence paused for hair to string;
anticipation palpable for wood, metal, excellence
to life to married sing.

Oh, shared looks, two by two, man to man,
eyebrows raised in fun to cocky plan;
sparkling both alone in vast hall,
bow to lover's touch with curtain up-
silence falls.
Subtle shine to crinkling eyes at their merry lark;
thousands seated, (afterthoughts)
to the journey forth they
upon embark.

Program's promise by soft light,
centuries repeated, ensured delight.
Vivaldi-esque, Zoloft Seasons lethargy all four,
“Yes, yes...so pleasing..” grey haired older smiles traded
whilst youth dragged in crinoline to duty,
good son's and daughter's eyebrows roll;
this night the price, another toll paid to providers
of home, hearth, clothes, meat.
“Quiet! Listen, quit your shuffling feet!”
hushed to young as duo take their seat.

Monkeys not tonight. Surprise!
Unlamented, bow to strings grow in tone and speed increasing
fleeting measured tonal beat.

Joy and mischief spring and dance 'tween their eyes
as bows on string flounce and prance
to music ne'er heard fore this;
“What sound they make?”, elders hiss.
Youthful drear to smiles turn,
fingers tap and toes they turn to tune of tempo
felt in hearts- youthful joy anew,
unknown to well established arts;
frowns to gown barnacled hearts.

In frenzy now, the duo spring from chairs,
stepping lively to an audience
for the pair not there,
one drops to floor to roll around,
cello held as lover, (indeed, it is)
this beauty,
music flowing from the ground.

Whence fingers, bow, cello all-
stop!
In freezing moment to befall
a crowd stunned, unsure of what they've heard-
“To clap?” “To jeer?”
Alas, to do as people do; simply sit and stare.

But smiles wide to dwarf the sun
beam from duo, one to won.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uT3SBzmDxGk

This poem is Copyright ยฉ Invierno

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