rogerdr (rogerdr) wrote,

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  • Music:

Little Miss Dischord

Safety pins through earlobes;
Are these what allow kids to hear
Comfort in the harshest dissonance?

Poetry slammed
Against the walls
Of your head -
Not this one.

Give me the count, Mr. Zildjian:
One step from standing to starting,
Two hearts beating the path,
Three choices making the crossroads,
Four winds whipping the sails the flags the leaves the outstretched hands...

Through the door came a little, old woman.
She couldn't hear the music, no matter how loud.
She couldn't hear the verses, no matter how profound.
She could see neither the dancers nor the mildly amused audience.
Oh, but she was smiling, because she felt the wind.

Come away, my children!
The woman cried.
Leave the drowning place the crowded place the coward's place
And learn to dance as I do.

All backs were turned to her; all ears attuned to the stage
Where the whirlwind mixed up the names of the muses,
Where colors flew from brass and wood and wire,
Where all senses were blinded but one.
Oh, but she was smiling, because she felt the wind.

Enjoy it, then, my children!
The woman laughed.
Let the furies display their masks for you for a night for the blindness is yours
Until you learn to dance as I do.

Bring it back, Mr. Majestic:
Four walls to hold them,
Three fates befalling,
Two hearts in every beat,
One minute till midnight...

Sweat-streaked cheeks;
And steel safety slips free
From ringing ears -
But not these.

Violent verse and prose passion
Change to surprised whispers when the last is called,
Fall to awed silence when heads begin to turn
To see the woman smiling
As she dances to the wind in the door.

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