“Sometimes it’s the artist’s task
to make music with what’s left.”
She demanded a bold goal
but, I was unmovable.
It was not due to problems
or, because of but-what-if.
I make measured responses.
He was unhappy with me
but, I was unmovable.
It was due to quid pro quo
and, because of the judging.
I practice; so, I’m lucky.
I stop and learn
I can’t see the whole picture,
I hear the cacophony,
I touch with unfelt wonder,
I taste the bitter sweetness,
Waste’s foul odor repels me.
I savor mouthwatering,
I look through the looking glass,
I listen to sounds of silence,
I smell the flowers’ fragrance,
I hug with heartfelt kindness.
I go and do.
“Music is the space between the notes.”
MaddogPoetry 