Thursday, January 13, 2011

Magpie#48 ~~"'Elements of Notation' by the Maestro"

stanzas stood still awaiting the cue
the entrance of the chanteuse
silent the audience waiting and wanting; the more to scream
as Gossamer wings flapped; angels certainly announced her

Bedecked in the finest costume she entered our hallowed hall
as motes floated and flashing from argon footlights those balconies
lit the night's magic stardust; in an atmosphere fantastic
as the static field cracked and popped with expectant excitment

"tonight was the night of miracles for all at The Opera Hall"

as the silvery voice emerged
the flesh-born coccoon exactly on key
the Maestro tapped twice to annonce and pay attention
his baton on the stand only taps twice!
The diva stood front and centre; the performance of a lifetime
she swallowed nervously as the swallow above her flew like a bat

"sing as if it t'were the last song ever to be sung" she remembered his request

soon she'd be holding onto every sweet note
long past the midnight hour as the moon romantically set
as she with the golden pipes could melt ears
she became quite grotesque
as her face enlarged; began to swell and did begin to burst forth

"Such a sweet sound as ne'er been heard before"

No one seemed to notice her valent efforts as
corpulent material and spit from heaving and heavy chest
pounded against a broken heart; such emotion has never
poured forth to hear it's match on this liquid honey plane

an elixir to our senses that moment of expectation
as lungs filled to over-capacity and then released
sweet nectar enveloping us with a warm fluidity
keeping us safe; held us close to her warm bosom of love

from the core of diva's fire
the diaphram's shook; let loose it's diaphanous membranes
bellowed like a wolf in a volcano
releasing gases and juices and loosening us from our chains

all who knew her sound knew what to wear and when
don't come clad in solid elemental earthen ware
those bedecked in diamond necklaces and golden baubles beware
like weighty shackles became the death knell to the drowning fools
as she took us up with her; higher up to the heavenly realms where oxygen is more than rare
as we; to freely float on angel's wings; she left us there

as this is how she did create her art
on the astral plane she staged her act a play in two parts
Dante's Inferno or Heaven Can't Wait
she was nothing more than a genius; her voice could do that!

as none could look away
so engrossed were we fledging beings to become
all knew this diva's expiration date
would soon, like ours, seal our fate

"it's not over 'til the fat lady sings"

as all those murky memories once sunk like a bulwark
now rising like a phoenix triumphant
she of the swan song of so long ago
spring renewal with every breath

"Sing little birdy sing" the Maestro extolled her

as she lept up in the air she kept us a more than captive audience
she sung her song as we held onto her every variation
her melodious range beyond any range we've ever heard or been!
verses swirled and twirled musica's most noted filagree

"Home Hone on the range, where the deer and the buffalo sing"

who knew the gifts she so soon would bring

as she bent to pick up the roses to send her up after the show
the applause lauded her again night after night
diva sung an Aria divine
spreading her sounds on the set upon her wispy feet

"A star is born"

after the final curtain came and went
and long after the rest went on their merry way
her own world revealed something
as up above revolved around diamond skies
suiting her up would be an uncommon marriage of opposites

as those who loved and lived life
with gusto hung onto every musical line and space
that hung and clung onto mother they stayed
hoping to hold onto her every note forever like an apron string

The Opera House's reflection tonight
flicked in the rain and rippled and waivered
in the long extinguished footlights
the city coffers went Baroque
trying to revisit this phantom night

"The Maestro had left a paper near the orchestra pit"

apparently to all who did hear
could see that this night
the notes had lifted from the pages
like life as a musical notation

the paper yellow'd and much mellow'd
thought to resemble someday the old maestro's
corned beef on rye, anyone?
like the classic guitar he had pulled them like a ham string

"all stops were pulled tonight; houselights dim"

light as a feather we
the sound floated us
up past the rafters
past the balcony seats

we fly past half-notes
all those staccato'd time signatures
treble and bass clefs record the minuet
Maestro had certainly once considered

bound to sound like an endless bounty
heard stallions' hooves race over brooks
glisten to our listening ear

"hold on tight Maestro called to all

while away, and all the while
we thought how could he, so coyly provide
this improvisional masterpiece
the notes practically lept from the page!

save the saving grace of our rapture
a place beset before the King
as those who were so enraptured had sets the tone
finely tuned to the key of g

and the metronome finally melts down
perfecting the paradigm of the impossibile
our trembling hearts skip a beat
lulled by soothing sleep

to awaken suddenly
the clash of the titan tymphaneum
we are all awaiting the next oeuvre
the next opus of life's
unending crescendo!

"The Maestro has left the building!"



  1. Wow! What a wonderful operatic venture!

  2. I found quite a lot of this wonderfully funny. Lovely parodic writing.

  3. Wow! Penetrating all that's going on here is quite a tall order. Well sung, nevertheless.

  4. I would say "Jesus wept", but
    in the case of this operatic opus,
    it would be Mozart weeping, or
    maybe Beethoven, tears of joy,
    reading your poetics and reliving
    the love of opera and music.
    Even the rafters of the Paris
    Opera House could not contain
    the gusto and verve of this piece.
    Congratulations. Bravo.