"ligetti suggestions"

exercises in stylish perfection
created out of need for excellence
ten fingers, two hands, hundreds of strings
a black box and a multitude of ebony and ivory levers

disorder
         hurry, rush here and there, getting nowhere quickly
         yet advancing with assurance
         patterns of disillusions, deforming auditory landmarks
         no one knows what happens when ideas become confused
         but poetry is born with twisted fingers
         can't hold a brush, but the colors reflect a sane soul
         filled to the brim in a closed box
         with ribbons by fives; perfect fifth harmony

empty open strings
         the wine bottle dreams of
         a world of imagined cellos and violins
         sounds so strange and perfect
         easily flowing tonalities one becoming the next
         mixed together in sustained harmonies
         like rainy sunsets on aquarelle paper

blocked keys
         stuttering demons, impatient
         in a ballet-like limping on and over the keys
         a game of graceful but diabolical hopscotch
         inserted into invisible locks, a future hidden
         created out of that which is not perceived
         mysterious notes resonate, from heaven
         from beyond the tomb?
         beautiful, haunting, easily mistaken for destiny
         but godlike perfect conception
         sings loud, cries triumphant

fanfares
         bring in the hornpipes, the bagpipes, the tambourines!
         running to and fro, up and down
         scampering like clown under a circus tent
         no drums to rhythm our marching
         but horns and carnival parades
         working overtime with the same rhythmic dancing
         light years of aurora borealis,
         sudden explosions of fireworks of fantasy
         holiday time over in an improbable drunken hush

rainbow
         somewhere ribbons of color, high up in the sky…
         colors of blues, jazz style, relaxed
         cool, hazy cigar-lit evening
         multi mosaic hues of azure
         rocking gently the babes of always
         gentle sounds, restful syncopation
         cerulean sky-watching
         how often do dreams come true?
         they are lost in timeless desire

autumn in Warsaw
         a world foreign to springtime mazurkas and winter nocturnes
         incessant raindrops, a bleak background
         but dreary beauty exists everywhere
         complicated punctuation, criss-crossing arms
         like twisted branches in a forest of elms, maples and firs
         in uncommon realms where music is strange
         angry pitter-patter of windblown storms
         a crescendo of nature's uncontrolled anger
         thundering, hammering
         tree trunks crack, falling anger
         silence arrives as suddenly as noise is distilled

Galamb borong
         faraway Bali islands of nonsensical imitation
         pretend gongs, bongs, sarongs
         imaged sounds, profound, they resound
         pleasure of exotic birdsong
         aerial dancing, fluttering higher, plummeting lower
         into the turquoise waters, with a last splash fingers plunge
         the depths of indescribable sounds
         rippling waves slowly calm their concentric circles

Fén
         the imaginary world of gnomes
         springy swing indications for interpretation
         of this jazzy laughter
         joyous, vigorous festivities
         rhythmic tapping on drums, fives and fours
         metal sounds, gold, silver, brass, copper
         shining reflection makes light refracting everywhere
         left right, high low, feet stamping up and down
         transform sound into a sudden pastel sunset

vertigo
         spiral circling hallucinations
         head spinning, (fingers too)
         louder, more complicated,
         dizzying repetition,
         ladders descending, steps reaching towards the heavens
         suspended in nothingness, uncertain calm
         before the ultimate plummeting hell-ward
         brief visions of purgatory reveal hidden
         dreamlike accents of hope

Der Zauberlehrling (famulus)
         continuum, momentum perpetuum
         incoherently rapid
         fingers sliding on their own sweat
         uncomfortable birdlike twittering
         he tiptoes in a continuo of unmusical pitter-patter
         the absent master, will the lake overflow
         in buckets of broom-swept disaster?
         what is this sound?
         bell-like droplets spill
         repeated raindrops, big, heavy crashing
         after the crash of thunder on a bleak window pane
         an interlude: desperate song of blossoming flowers

suspended
         quiet, absolute immobility
         not death
         the start of life
         silent roots digging deeply
         and a single exquisitely unique flower
         is born with every colored tint of melodic sound
         resonating to life's heartbeat

in-between lakes (entrelacs)
         oceans of sound, turbulent
         opaque, dense, waves crashing
         yet water is so simple, a gentle drop of rain
         here or elsewhere, finger enjambment,
         crossing paths east meets west under southerly rains
         the north star follows the dancing
         simplicity meets complicated counterparts
         a mountain spring, oceans
         the fountain flow interrupts quickly?
         precarious silence -- the eye of the storm?

the devil's staircase
         higher and higher false security mocking
         only to drop suddenly into the depths of the unspeakable
         again and again
         over and over the pattern repeats
         dizzying rictus of pain, fingers burning
         troubling insecurity of false ascension
         falling triumphantly in fortissimo commotion
         the final scream of victory, hell has won

Coloana infinitä
         rising in anger, "toutes griffes sorties"
         the priestess" angry countenance
         columns of Babel towers,
         architectural gravity defies
         such height seems impossible with so much weighted sound
         climbing into the sky, clusters of fists on keys
         noise does not become music easily
         hell and nightmare battle for dominance

white on white
         utter peace, finally a quiet for meditation
         subtle movement advancing discreetly
         the simplicity of all colors blended into one
         reflecting light gives all sound,
         a mixture of shouts and whispers
         beautiful in strange ways
         but ears waver between clear and dark

for Irina
         simple love song wit strange words
         strange quiet harmonies
         is she of this world?
         an ethereal homage to beauty
         ears perceive quiet tones of pastel
         and a touch of sadness
         gaily she dances a
         a new rite of spring
         no sacrifice, the gods complain
         though she twirls faster for their pleasure
         spinning towards the moon

breathless
         sound moves too quickly
         undetermined direction
         blood pounding in my veins
         heart ache
         fingers attack, life will continue
         my thoughts are clear
         like running water cleansing the sweat-soaked ivories
         the bloodied ebonies
         the hours have dwindled into an e-minor chord
         a dissonant silence covers my questing heart
         lustful silence for the end of time

"ligetti suggestions"
homage to the Etudes for piano by György Ligetti
september 2004-october 2006

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