Echo forth, the staccato notes of
Xylophone strikes in frantic
Time, pinging off the
Eardrum’s taut skin and
Merging with the pounding of the
Pulse that beats somehow
Off-tempo with the
Rumba rhythm of the
Aortic bagpipes, that
Never-ceasing song of
Ever-decreasing length, with
Osseous rattling like castanets
Under the frantic xylophone strikes
Staccato notes which echo forth
About this poem:
I had a lot of fun with this one. And I really surprised myself, too. I completed it quickly; the ideas flowed together with ease, the images just sprang out in succession. A true stroke of inspiration, this one was an on-the-spot composition. No notes, no planning. I chose a word and accidentally invoked its essence. A little rest can do wonders.
Form/Style: Acrostic [spells the word 'extemporaneous'], Spoken Word
Rhythm/Metre: Free, Lyrical
Rhyme/Scheme: None; some assonance, consonance, and alliteration.
Themes and Tone:
Merging the images of biology and music, it evokes a sense of dancing and draws parallels between the physical and metaphysical aspects of being human. It feels alive and energetic. A celebration of art and form, whether natural or man-made. A spurring into spur-of-the-moment creation or expression.