Neglection of a SymphonyA Poem by John StussyI need a composition program damn it!
Tirades of endless harmonics
Start churning through my head.
The symphony has returned to me,
Notes spilling, filling my mind.
I can’t control the music in me,
It grows and thrives of its own free will.
The composer is but an outlet for it,
A means to accomplish its manifestation.
Oh but the inability to write the tune
Is as painful as being away from a lover,
Understanding every sound in a chord
But unable to write the sounds of the angels.
It is driving me crazier by the second,
Hearing these sounds and having this desire.
No means to accomplish what this first love of mine
Desires, demands, requires of me.
A pitiful servant completely incapable
Of fulfilling the commands asked by my love.
The pain that envelopes my music-filled heart
Overcomes me as I realize I cannot share this song.
I feel so ashamed for not giving Music the life she asks
But I haven’t the means to accomplish the task.
Uselessness fills me and I feel guilty,
A lover incapacitated, watching my life die before me.
The genius bestowed by the grace of Miss Music
Goes unused, neglected, and never shared.
Such abuse of this gift crushes my mind
And a gift of genius tumbles towards insomniac insanity…
© 2008 John StussyAuthor's Note
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Added on February 29, 2008AuthorJohn StussyAZAboutCook, writer, reader, musician. I don't bte, unless asked to or bitten first. My site's link is to some recordings of my poetry, and I might add some recordings of me playing my sax onto there too... more..Writing
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