as if we could hear music inside the words
an ode we’ll hum while searching for a word
a tune in the willows in the shimmy of Spring
overheard on the speaker while slicing a peach.
and as we were trying to explain all we’d heard
(the music in the words) further words emerged
ancient words: abrasive like peace
equivocal like love, subtle as a lampshade.
we ran our tongues round these words
made of the remains of tiny sea creatures
from a time before words
only the music of waves sifting and settling.
they were the mouths inside our words
a chorale tuned in silence profound
never to convey the music in words
(these crummy words: this noun, this adjective).
and surely more words will follow
and more music too, a recursive tumble
uncovering wonders, uncovering nothing
and over and over, again and again.
Image: Depiction of coral in the Juliana Anicia Codex, a 6th-century copy of Dioscorides‘ De Materia Medica c/- Wikipedia. Today (28 January) I’m hosting the bar at Dverse the poets’ pub and we’re focussing on finding that fantastic first line. Here’s Gail Newman’s original poem Trust. You can read more of her work here and here.
And since this poem is about words and music (kinda), here’s something beautiful: Anna Netrebko, Elīna Garanča singing the Flower Duet from Lakme by Delibes – wonders indeed.
Peter Frankis writes 
I love the third stanza most especially. And as I’m going along reading, mesmorized by the pacing, the words themselves, then you throw this at me “(these crummy words, this lousy pen). ” WOW! That’s like a slap in the face in the midst of these other flowing words!
By the way….sadly, I don’t think you’ve followed the prompt. Go back and read the prompt again.
Laura asks us to use one of the lines she’s provided…in fact before she provides 6 lines she says “I’ve selected some final lines of poetry. Choose ONE and write you poem as continuation where the poet left off, thematically, in the same mood, rather than literally. ” Nowhere that I can see does she suggest we can choose our own poem or poetry line to use for the prompt.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Lillian,
Sorry, I think I’ve misunderstood the prompt – the line I used ‘“As if we could hear music inside the words” is one of the six offered. What am I missing?
LikeLike
Ah I see now. (is there an emoji for a red face somewhere?) An amendment to follow…
LikeLike
But… what a fine following poem, prompted by that first line borrowed from Gail Newman. You technically missed one prompt but met your own? Either way, I really liked this. That fourth stanza… yeah. The ‘mouths inside our words’ says a lot.
LikeLike
You reset my brain every time with words or phrases like “eating a peach” or “subtle as lampshade” “again and again”, over and over. Nicely done, Peter.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much M.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very nicely done Peter! I think we all hear the music in the vowels before we put pen to paper in writing our poems.
LikeLike
I love this poem… from the shimmy of spring to the mouths inside our words… and between and beyond.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You chose the same prompt as I did, and like me wrote of ancient words, but went a step further, back to a time before words, as so brilliantly expressed in the third stanza. The image you’ve chosen is kind of haunting because the coral looks dead…could this have been a premonition?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha. I hadn’t noticed that Ingrid – I was more interested because of its age (most coral photos are lurid with colour) and it was a drawing in an old medical textbook that advised eating ground coral is good for ulcers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Interesting! I think I’ll give it a miss…
LikeLike
I love the roll of this poem. I couldn’t write a word if directed, but this seems wonderful and of its self completely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much Cathy, so glad you liked it.
LikeLike
I love this imagery, Peter!
-David
LikeLike
Thanks David – – this one appeared on the page unbidden and insisted on staying.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You hooked me with ‘a tune in the willows in the shimmy of Spring’, Peter. I love the way you play with words, the rhymes, the phrase ‘subtle as lampshade’ and the lines:
‘we ran our tongues round these words
made of the remains of tiny sea creatures
from a time before words
just the music of waves sifting and settling.’
LikeLiked by 1 person
This has a lovely rolling rhythm to it, like waves on the sea. Words come out of music and vice-versa and it’s all the same really, like the wordless music of the ocean and the chorale of coral.
LikeLiked by 1 person
exactly – thanks Jane – glad you liked.
LikeLike
I did, very much.
LikeLike
I like this a lot… words that are born from music, and words giving us music that gives us words… how our vocabulary grows from sounds we hear.
LikeLiked by 1 person
…and on and on. (Thanks Björn)
LikeLike
This is gorgeously rendered, Peter! 😀 I especially love; “they were the mouths inside our words, a chorale tuned in silence profound,never to convey the music in words.” Everything about this poem sings! 💝💝 Inspired~
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Sanaa (finally found your piece on FB – 🙂)
LikeLike
I really like this, Peter. I love the flow and sound of it–the music in the words, and the words full of music. And the ancient tongues and mouths in words–the flow of the universe and time, perhaps.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The imagery is amazing and while the first line was an absolute banger, I loved these the most:
“equivocal like love, subtle as lampshade.
we ran our tongues round these words
made of the remains of tiny sea creatures”
It’s beautiful and out of this world.
LikeLiked by 1 person
the vivid imagery and unusual use of words roll like gentle waves across my tongue. Both evocative and inspiring ..
LikeLike
This is soooooo gooood it seems like it came from a time before words….
Awesome work Peter.
LikeLike
This piece is awesome, and it illustrates our prompt very well; as it should. You did so much research, you gave us a lot of latitude as to what form we used.I went with a modified Renga; lone of my favorites. Your wordsmanship was outstanding, as noted.
LikeLike
Such a beautiful poem, emotion gurgled up in me … so much so that I found tears on my cheeks. What a great poem does. Thanks for the challenge.
LikeLike
As if and only if: that’s the deal we get with this dirty speech called poetry, humming heavenly nothings over and over. It’s just dirt, most common thing on Earth.
LikeLike
You start with someone else’s line, but as you made it yours, I realized we all start with “someone else’s line” — that indescribable moment when the Muse tells you how to start.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had fun running my tongue all over your poem here, 👅 It was quite decadent and I enjoyed the variety in your words and flow, it was a journey through time. The ending lines, “uncovering wonders, uncovering nothing, and over and over, again and again” is so true, the music and words will live on, a lovely thing! 🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
and surely more words will follow
and more music too, a recursive tumble
uncovering wonders, uncovering nothing
and over and over, again and again.
It is so interesting how we keep making new creations from words repeated over and over again!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So much in this Peter, but I particulary like ‘the shimmy of Spring”, “abrasive like peace”, “subtle as a lampshade”…great stuff…JIM
LikeLike
Certainly more words will follow and more music too. Beautiful writing Peter.
LikeLiked by 1 person
ad infinitum…🙂 Thanks Rob.
LikeLike
So much insight in this poem, Peter. I absolutely loved:
“we ran our tongues round these words
made of the remains of tiny sea creatures
from a time before words
just the music of waves sifting and settling. “
LikeLike