A brief pause whilst I reverie. Ray Mears. Boreal Forest. Ray Mears. I, who am not enamoured of the natural world, sink into quite another place when Ray is out there and telling me so gently about it. Love the man.
Anyway, to this week's challenge, undertaken after the sainted Ray had said "Goodbye" (better than Drambuie or ham sandwiches).
Basically it involved me sitting in agony (no lumbar improvement yet) listening to agony.
The agony was a ten-minute piece of music by Krzysztof Penderecki (nope, me neither) which you can hear here:
I followed the rules more or less to the letter. I wrote as I listened, and what I am posting is what I wrote. The words are unchanged; however I did rationalise the punctuation a little (not really polishing - more, well, buffing).
It is not a poem. I'm not really sure what it is, but hey, them's the challenges.
And I'm off to find out about the music, and see if anyone else did this piece of madness, or went with the eminently more sensible (in hindsight) Plan B.
On A Piece of Music
Psycho! Psycho!
Mother is here,
and she is sharp.
She rips and pierces,
wide eyes,
so many knives,
whilst blood swirls
down,
and down,
and down.
She has brought Africa,
with drums
and more knives
that dervish dance:
drums and knives
knives and drums
swirling, piercing, knives and drums.
But a whale hints peace
and the deep sea calms them
so they sink quiet to the seabed.
Threats return through the deep sea.
Eyeless crawling things
have come to the seabed;
creep, crawl, congress,
and they have many keen arms
that swirl and hold many knives.
Whales!
Faint whales, calm them.
Please.
For horror things are here, with me,
beneath the deep sea
that cover me with arms and knives
and slice me so. I am pieces.
Now I am in a dead place of noise
and noise is pain,
where bones ring wrong and sink down.
I can hear faint whales far away.
They do not come to save me.
My bones are still.
The arms take knives,
the bones start
their danse macabre,
slow, jerk, slow, jerk, quick, jerk
quick, quick, quick.
I am surrounded by jerking bones and knives.
The crawling things bite my ears
and pierce me deep
whilst I shake and cry
with the seagulls above
and quiver
with the sea snails below.
I have no shell and am boneless,
for my bones have left
to join the dance.
Then silence and agony.
Save me whales, for I am dead,
and though dead, I need your calm.
Mother is here,
and she is sharp.
She rips and pierces,
wide eyes,
so many knives,
whilst blood swirls
down,
and down,
and down.
She has brought Africa,
with drums
and more knives
that dervish dance:
drums and knives
knives and drums
swirling, piercing, knives and drums.
But a whale hints peace
and the deep sea calms them
so they sink quiet to the seabed.
Threats return through the deep sea.
Eyeless crawling things
have come to the seabed;
creep, crawl, congress,
and they have many keen arms
that swirl and hold many knives.
Whales!
Faint whales, calm them.
Please.
For horror things are here, with me,
beneath the deep sea
that cover me with arms and knives
and slice me so. I am pieces.
Now I am in a dead place of noise
and noise is pain,
where bones ring wrong and sink down.
I can hear faint whales far away.
They do not come to save me.
My bones are still.
The arms take knives,
the bones start
their danse macabre,
slow, jerk, slow, jerk, quick, jerk
quick, quick, quick.
I am surrounded by jerking bones and knives.
The crawling things bite my ears
and pierce me deep
whilst I shake and cry
with the seagulls above
and quiver
with the sea snails below.
I have no shell and am boneless,
for my bones have left
to join the dance.
Then silence and agony.
Save me whales, for I am dead,
and though dead, I need your calm.
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