Harris Gardner
(USA)
Island of Music
The pleasure of a concert,
Slows the day’s tempo.
It is an island that shuts out
The sound of hapless, frenzied
Humanity caught up in the
Everyday cacophony.
We swim in the cadence of Klezmer
Songs. Our hearts ascend with
Jocund tunes that scale surrounding hills.
Sun’s rays muscle through
A cloudy blanket as if it
Also wished to revel
In the music that makes feet
Move on their own design.
Clarinet, accordion, tuba and drums
Reveal a harmonious collage
That adorns the corridors of centuries.
Dim, receding notes nudge us
From ecstatic trance.
Concert
Crow struts on a bough
Of a cherry blossom tree.
He is dressed in concert finery.
His rough voice is chorus;
The wind sounds soft solo.
Pink flowers stir, hum
Unheard harmony, so low.
Soloist bends in a bow.
Staccato Legato
Thought crawled out of the sea
And morphed into art.
Art became a song heard
By those who chose to heed.
Song begat music that danced
Around a maypole with words.
Language spoke, sang and danced.
Spirit climbed the maypole to the peak,
Opened its mouth to speak.
Words became song, and spirit danced.
Mid-breath, lungs pause, halt thought.
Whim weaves a tonal tapestry.
Song pulsates in percolating pool.
Words became song, and spirit danced.
Synapses dance to their own rhythm,
Leap to ancient drum beats.
Scoring flows to muted heart.
Half-remembered music struggles
To surface, then succumbs to slumber.
Words became song, and spirit danced.
Inner shaman climbs cloud ladder
To pursue peak of pyre that turns to ash.
Tribal chants reverberate through corridors,
Race toward rendez-vous with submerged glimmers.
Words became song, and spirit danced.
Rests between quarter notes-
Scales float in syncopation,
Pause for breath, then measured paces
Stretch marathon toward mirage
Of wavering finish line.
Words became song and spirit danced.
No ribbon falls, no winner’s dais,
Circuitous movement, commencement,
Conclusion – then, repeat.
Words became song, and spirit danced.
Break in blips, zigzag line,
Points north, south, steady, steady.
Song murmurs, a river current-
Notes soar toward surging sea’s symphony.
Words link in a snake dance, then, ride the waves.
Thought fastens the final knots
To secure the tapestry.
Words became song, and spirit danced.
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Harris Gardner- Bio
Credits: The Harvard Review; Midstream; Cool Plums; Rosebud; Fulcrum; Chest; The Aurorean; Ibbetson Street Journal. Main Street Rag; Vallum (Canada); Pemmican; WHL Review; Green Door; MRPR; and over fifty other publication credits. Three collections. Poet-in-Residence- Endicott College-2002-2005. Poetry Editor, Ibbetson Street: November, 2010 to present; co-founder of Tapestry of Voices and Boston National Poetry Month Festival (both, with Lainie Senechal). Member of three selection committees for Poet Laureate: Boston (2) and Somerville. (1).
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