Libby Weber's Blog, page 30

April 26: Knowing

When we sing chorally, it is a gift,

To all the world, but also you and me,

That’s all but guaranteed to give a lift

In spirit to those joined in harmony.

While music to musician will adhere

Inseparable as milk and flour in batter,

Between musicians, there can grow the fear

Of being judged for things which hardly matter.

But when with kindness and profound respect

For differences and similarities

We share a sacred space, we can connect

With gleeful and profound camaraderie.

Dismantling our distrust bring...

April 25: Tres Bien Ensemble

There is a dearth of concert halls whose sound

Is intimate and gives exoneration

For imperfections that are always found

In live performance; blend or intonation.

So when a first rehearsal brings a smile

To both composer’s and conductor’s faces,

Not only is the exercise worthwhile,

You have been dealt a hand with all four aces.

And yet, with any group,we’re all aware

That anyone could be the weakest link.

And so each person takes the greatest care

To count so that we all might move in synch.

Musicians wo...

April 24: Good Decisions

Bleary and sore, I haul myself from bed,

My body moving automatically

Receiving little guidance from my head,

Ablutions thus performed erratically–

My contact lenses weary eyes refuse,

So spectacles elucidate the sight

Of undereyes as purple as a bruise;

A confirmation of a restless night.

As wakefulness begins its penetration

Of murky memory, I realize

I cannot muster self-recrimination

For what my growing smugness does imply.

Though thorough sleep my brain has been denied,

The body claims itself most sa...

April 23: At Will

Today, I took a dear friend out to eat

To celebrate his birthday, and we drank

To health and love and spouses. Thus replete

With good opinions, in our chairs we sank,

Each falling into quiet contemplation.

I marveled how four hundred fifty years

Had compounded his worldwide reputation,

Yet here we were, enjoying quips and beers.

I wished I could articulate a fraction

Of how his words drew me from solitude,

Soliloquies of limitless attraction,

And verses that my writer’s soul renewed.

I thanked him; he ac...

April 22: Perversity

A homeless fellow caught my eye today

And asked about a flyer on the wall.

Demurring, I had hoped to sneak away,

But I had missed the moment to forestall.

He claimed that evolution was corrupted,

How scarcity would lead to civil war,

And scientists whose talks he interrupted

To point this out would then show him the door.

I knew that what he wanted was for me

To praise his intellect and perspicacity.

Though for his troubles I had sympathy,

My pride kept me from that desired mendacity.

I said that fiction...

April 21: True Story

While wandering today, I chanced on Peace,

Though I did not perceive that it was he

Because he walked with Love, who never ceased

To look beyond his quiet company.

I greeted Love, who knew that I was one

Who knew her kindness well, and so I bent

Receiving ardent kisses in return,

All but ignoring Peace, who seemed content–

But when I rose, Peace held aloft his arm

And folded me into a warm embrace,

While unexpected, I could see no harm

In letting Peace suffuse my personal space.

His strength was awesome,...

April 20: Come and Go

Abundant and unstructured time’s a prize

That slips away from every firm embrace.

One really shouldn’t find it at surprise

When tasks appear to fill an empty space.

When needed sleep must cease when it’s your turn

To tend to someone else’s urgent need,

And food’s delayed since you unwisely spurned

Your pantry check and recipe to read,

It all adds up to an exhausting day

In which your modest plans will end up scuttled.

Your inner critic will have much to say

About your planning skills- none of it subtle....

April 19: Ass Transit

I caught a ride downtown with friends, which meant

I made my big appointment in good time.

But when I left part way through the event,

I found my transit options were subprime.

The nearby bus signs showed a transfer point

With my connection just a mile away.

When I arrived, my nose got out of joint

To find it didn’t run on Saturday.

Another half-mile to the trolley line,

To ride to yet another transport center

Of which some riders were heard to opine

That one who works no weekends was inventor.

For me, i...

April 18: Self-Compassion

On days when tiredness stymies memory,

I do not tax my brain- it is unwise.

I focus on the rudimentary,

The fundamental on which work relies.

And when my voice is tired, I must respect

Its limitations, even though I chafe

To sing full-voiced, I know that to protect

The instrument means shunning the unsafe.

But when I’m hoarse and tired, those double wrongs

Combine to make an exponential right,

Because I know a lot of three-chord songs

Whose range is such that don’t have to fight.

I find it fun to have a...

April 17: 100 Seconds of Solitude

How fortunate are we to live in times

When libraries exist most everywhere,

Which burst with novels, research, art, and rhymes,

And we can call upon them through the air.

And still, the tactile pleasures of a book

Remain when from a screen your eyeballs sting

And you desire a solitary nook

In which to focus on a single thing.

For when absorbed in reading, one arrives

At space the writer once willed into being,

So even when he dies, a part survives-

An immortality thus guaranteeing.

So seize that part and...