21 February 2018

Where the New World Hides its Muse: a Lop-sided Song


Orchestra section from Fantasia 


The old age home applies the mute to brass—
and woodwinds, too--in broken orchestras
and concerts with too many empty seats.

Get close enough to listen and you’ll weep.
Get closer yet and hear aged narratives:
Percussion delivers their heartbeat still.

Should they rise, this collection of discarded
instruments? should they ride on strings to homes
and play louder and longer than welcome?

Can this last home now guard the new world’s soul—
the one we fear we’ve lost along with pure notes
and dissonance, along with sound and sense?



 For my prompt 

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Voice



My blog poems are rough drafts. 
Please respect my copyright. 

© 2018 Susan L. Chast



13 comments:

Sumana Roy said...

This is so heartbreaking. Such imagery of loss! With all the music gone from life brings on such emptiness! A hard, real world still remains sans familiarity. 'broken orchestras' say it all.

Sherry Marr said...

I hope the aged musicians pick up the instruments and play loud and long..........I love the line "Get close enough to listen and you'll weep."

Kim Russell said...

This reminds me of my mother as she lost everything to dementia. She once loved music and the radio was never off. As she deteriorated it just confused her. I love the line:
'Percussion delivers their heartbeat still'.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

This is so heart wrenching! To think of those poor souls 'hear aged narratives' and the idea of broken familiarity in a world too cruel for words tears the heart! Powerfully written, Susan.

Vivian Zems said...

This really 'pulls the heartstrings". A haunting, sad narrative. Good one.

annell said...

I often want to soften the brass--and woodwinds, too--perhaps it is but our fear of the lost pure notes nad dissonance....along with sound and sense?

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Your words are wise and superb Susan, and resonate.
They remind me of the home in which I worked until retirement, one floor given to those lovely folk with failing memories and a loss of the music of life, and the triumphant sound/voice it brings.
On a more personal note, of my lovely hubs, now in a care home too, who now resides outside the orchestra of life, almost silent that he is.
Anna :o]

gillena cox said...

I can hear the sadness in the loss of the music. I hope they deceide to play once more

Much💖love

kaykuala said...

Get closer yet and hear aged narratives:
Percussion delivers their heartbeat still.

The voice is still there but no one is listening. It is a pity. Very poignant take, Susan!

Hank

Old Egg said...

Sadly I lost my own mother to dementia, a slow inevitable journey to oblivion whilst she was still alive.

AuraOfThoughts MeenalSonal said...

Hoping many gather with longing ears to listen to them. Your poetry essays the pain of music lovers

Cheers
MeenalSonal from AuraOfThoughts

rallentanda said...

Beautifully written poem about the sadness of old age.Discarded old instruments in a broken down orchestra. We live in a cruel godless world where everyone and everything has an expiry date. When you outlive your usefulness it's the 'chop'... well not literally...not yet anyway, but it will happen eventually.
Excellent poem.

Thotpurge said...

So many people are forced to weather the winter of their lives alone... sometimes even without their memories..this is a heartbreaking account of social breakdown.