The Melomaniac

Music is a fire that combusts
upon itself and tears apart the heart
exploding universes in a row
the end is the beginning and the start
of timelessness and rapture overwhelmed
the passion of a bow upon a string
a knock on wood or any other thing
to bang two stones together can erupt
the lava churning through your tangled veins
which nothing in the cosmos can corrupt
for in the darkness, only sound remains
for all your science and society
and all your longings, talk of you and me,
then when the organ blasts across the space
the tones that spread the stars across your face
the pipes blow out the candles and suppose
that music roots from where the mandrake grows
and climaxing a cadence in the rafters
priest, porn star, pianist, happy ever afters
the sounds that emanate drive me insane
I am the fire, the love, la melomane.

Billiards Mesostics on Lewis Carroll

Referees Song during Dream sequence

Night serene
slip into the spiral of a dream
wheels spin slow
round all that you know
stars like balls
reflecting the roundness of it all
minds are quite
fantastic at night

Skiing and chasing
a rhino and a man
I know over a
landscape of roses
the moral I suppose
is

Dreams are what your mind does 
when you leave it alone, 
and

Night is right
for fire when thoughts are set alight
stars that flame
whatever their name
dreams that flicker
fizz and fly away
into the coming light
that drains away the magic night.


to the tune of "A Little Bit of Dreammusik"

The Rhythms That The Balls Produce

Wolfgang Amadeus vexes over
a train of thought that stuck in
to a rut the notes won't budge
and all his melodies are sludge

But when his brain has gone to shards
he finds the game of Billiards
a tonic for his malady of musical
direction
and in his introspection
balls are bouncing
bounding and rebounding
off each other and
the rhythms that the balls produce
are of inestimable use
to Wolfgang Amadeus.

to the tune of "Papageno Drunk", sung by the referee, or referees...

Mozart Manifest

Wolfgang Amadeus stands up
lifts both his musicians hands up
stretches, stops composing tunes
and steps into the Billiards room.

Wolfgang Amadeus lurches
over table where he perches
takes the cue and shoots a ball
and doesn't pocket one at all
likes to bang the balls together
colours run around forever
bouncing circles clack and click
behind the force of wooden stick
light reflects about the spheres
and music comes to Mozart's ears

Wolfgang Amadeus sleeps
and dreams of balls that in the night
will clatter round about the sky
and twinkle in the heaven's bright
and all the music of the spheres
rebounds about in Mozart's ears.