Sunday, July 01, 2012

"The Lull I Like"

Loafe with me on the grass... loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want... not custom or lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
--Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

The stopped throat, the valved voice
the pause between notes, spaces engraved with tremolo.
White space between lines, between bars
between notes suspended.
An open field dotted
with black dancers, uncrowded. A moving space,
a silence framed by black notes.
No photograph can frame
the stillness inside movement. The silences inside music
cannot be written down.

Hollow brass, hollow wood,
hollow human throat, breath.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

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