Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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Woman with Flowers 7.1
(7th sketch in series, first iteration of this one) Woman with Flowers Flowers, props upholding the woman. The flowers, fragrant, imaginar...
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The Buddha says: “ You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself .” The path is uncertain. Uncertainty is the guiding for...
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What if relationships are the primary ordering principle? What if the way relationships are ordered clarify, explain, and instruct us on th...
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direct link: Tones of Noir music: Alex Bailey, ' Piano Improvisation No 7 .' Do poems wait to be born? A poem whittled out of t...
I know I don't comment often these days, but I read everything at least twice. Everything. And pieces like this touch me deeply down inside a protected spot that I almost never share. Part of me I'm finding myself more reluctant to share as time goes by.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fluid composition! Even as I read, I could experience the flow of the dance like an experience. How I adore writing like this.
ReplyDeleteQuote: "Love that swallows you as you breathe it, like firedust"
Oh!
Quote: "In my cacophonous sensibility" I love this. I know this feeling well!
On the Clarice Lispector quote on "behind thought, I have a musical core." This is most concurrent. Your writing is like a musical underscore this day.
This is really a great piece, my Friend, from beginning to end.
Blessings~In Light
Brenda ... I have been lifted upon this glorious wind~work!
ReplyDeleteTruly, I am astounded. It makes me feel uplifted . . . and in terms of creativity for me that is good. Thank you for this. Liz R-S
¨Is love open heart surgery?¨Man, that´s such a great line and really for me the key to this piece.
ReplyDeleteYou are giving us a full-bodied expression of the amatory, cardio organ included, through a contemporary inflection into an intensely personal vision of ecstatic sacred love, that in many ways, though studded with reference to consciousness, painting, intercontinental travel and the inescapability of the ¨solar wind¨-- this prose poem´s central conceit--a 21st cent entry into the medieval mystical poetry of love which we associate with Ibn Arabi, Kabir, Rumi, Hildegaard of Bingen, St. John of The Cross, and Sor Juana.
There is a human subject for so much love, but there is also a sense of the transcendence with this beloved by the speaker into a co-creating Presence bigger than them both.
Your reading was spectacular, Brenda, the choice of improvisational jazz piano, your phrasings in accompaniment building the piece to its climax, your sense of the beats where the love that the speaker evinces takes flight.
A perfect fusion of jazz music and poetry, performance and lyrical text. One of my favorite spoken word pieces of yours so far. You set a high standard for the rest of the pre-Simulationists to match themselves against.
Reminds me (in a great way, of course) of the lyrics of Paul Simon.
ReplyDeleteSimply beautiful. And, obviously, it finally stopped raining in this little corner of Florida. For a few hours, of course.
Until the solar winds kick up again, no doubt.