The human mind keeps trying so hard to impute meaning where there’s obviously none.
Consider how many poems attempt to be philosophical essays or at least musings with some anticipated moral in conclusion of an underlying physical experience – while others just dance. In music, at least the kind free for lyrics, we have constructions intended to lead to some fresh vision (aka, meaning), however wordless the encounter. This can involve the variation of organ manuals, stops and registration – or on the piano, the pedal, octave leaps, or dynamic range – all absent in the literary line (though they may be suggested by synonyms or subtle variations in the repetitions) … much less chords in their vertical shifting and twisting horizontal lines of harmony.
What are we thinking as the music flows past? Or more accurately, feeling? The shuffling of the deck of cards we play. (Thugs & fudging we encounter in the marketplace or street, countered by aesthetic awareness.)
While so much of poetry (especially) is visual, the overlap — and distance — from music remain active.
This time, in my newest collection, I blend them, looking for what’s timeless and distilled … as in stilled … and yet vibrating.
For more on my poetry collection and others, click here.