I just don't understand,
Am I listening to nothing?
The notes are there
Softly created by the instruments,
But is there a tune?
I listen and the harmony is there,
Sailing through the ether
Into my body and soul,
Why should I like it?
It is like a drug though,
I just cannot get enough of it.
It stirs my soul,
Takes my Spirit to places,
Places it and I have never been.
So many different types of music
Is mine to enjoy,
But I keep on coming back
To the solace that I get from this composer,
This new composer I have found,
This man called Max Richter.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 7th, 2017 01:34
- Comment from author about the poem: This is the second poem about Max Richter that I have written recently. There is just something about him that moves me.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 43
Offline)
Comments7
Another fine write G. Any music in 1066?!
Only the scream of the sirens coming to pick up Harold!
Even the NHS couldn't help him. Makes me want to listen to more of his music him again - Max Richter that is.
The music captures the horror and devastation of Sarajevo The high pitched wail of sorrow and despair .
Thanks S, very true.
Nice write with great description
Thank you Shannon, most kind.
Such a wonderful use of musical instruments in the number by Max Richter - thanks for the introduction to a deep experience G.
My complements Fay, there is certainly something about him that reaches into my Spirit.
Haunting, powerful, captivating piece of music. Thanks for sharing. And your fine poem does it complete justice, Goldfinch!
Thank you Louis, he really speaks to me.
I can hear why.
Thank you Augustus.
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