somehow Gilbert
was allergic to musical notes
they got into his hair
and made his finger swell
they depleted what little
social graces he possessed
they made him snappy
they made him stroppy
he felt less inclined to eat soup
freshly made or from a can
all wrath
no broth
Sharp or flat
major or minor
a semi tone
a demi tone
the notes
that hung in his air
the motes
that got in his hair
all added up
to a very bad day
all added up
to an off Broadway play
all added up
and to this very day
all added up
(and then not so neatly... )
stowed away
i let Gilbert into
my own version
of this liquid stupidity
and into this ironic pause
safe from any form of music
free from orchestral laws
i let Gilbert sup and dine
on mere morsels i had ready
i lifted him up to let him shine
in a reflection of tinned spaghetti
i let Gilbert
break his mental shackles
i let Gilbert share my mind
both of us thankful for
any pieces of peace
(we could find)
i let Gilbert
be a part of me
a part i allow
no one else to see
a place where both
of us
could be free
i bought Gilbert
noise cancelling headphones
to keep all those notes out
About the Creator
Bren
"It's just a token of my extreme!" - Frank Zappa
"Cause it's all in the heat of the moment It's all in the pain!!!" - Devin Townsend
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler
Comments (2)
This poem is smooth and mysterious as jazz. The wordplay, the repetition, the on again-off again rhyme scheme, heighten the irony of a soundscape poem about a music allergy. And like jazz, as a poet you sing in the spaces between the lines.
Oooo, liquid stupidity, I loved that! Fantastic poem!