Saturday, March 12, 2022

Pianoforte . . .

(from https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/cris/hd_cris.htm)
". . . The quiet nature of the piano’s birth around 1700, therefore, comes as something of a surprise. The first true piano was invented almost entirely by one man—Bartolomeo Cristofori (1655–1731) of Padua, who had been appointed in 1688 to the Florentine court of Grand Prince Ferdinando de’ Medici to care for its harpsichords and eventually for its entire collection of musical instruments. A 1700 inventory of Medici instruments mentions an “arpicimbalo,” i.e., an instrument resembling a harpsichord, “newly invented by Bartolomeo Cristofori” with hammers and dampers, two keyboards, and a range of four octaves, C–c”’. The poet and journalist Scipione Maffei, in his enthusiastic 1711 description, named Cristofori’s instrument a “gravicembalo col piano, e forte” (harpsichord with soft and loud), the first time it was called by its eventual name, pianoforte. A contemporary inscription by a Florentine court musician, Federigo Meccoli, notes that the “arpi cimbalo del piano e’ forte” was first made by Cristofori in 1700, giving us a precise birthdate for the piano. . ."




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Reflect . . .

 

It's good to reflect
Every now and again
On things that you've done,
And the pleasures and pain
All encountered throughout
Your adventure to date.

A point that I always
Insist that is made,
When such dear meditations,
Deep into, I wade,
Is that all has been wonderful,
Some exceptions were bad,
But I'd never desire 
All the old things I had.

If I can't make it better
And invent something new,
Or just tackle developments,
Many or few,
Then I may as well be an old rock
Just existing, witnessing certainly,
But always resisting 
Things changing, in shock.


A Change Is Gonna Come
- Sam Cooke



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Friday, March 11, 2022

Maturity . . .

 

(from Donald Trump V. The United States: Inside the Struggle to Stop a President by 
Michael S. Schmidt)
". . . the day after his inauguration. . . Trump not only had failed to grasp the new realities and sensibilities of Washington but also had entered into "another dimension of reality." The toys of the White House . . . had turned Trump into a child who sounded as if he had just opened his birthday presents. . . "I have the best toys, you won't believe the toys, and I have the best Secret Service, they will kill anybody and follow you around everywhere-there's nothing like them" . . . "


Playground In My Mind
- Clint Holmes



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Thursday, March 10, 2022

Riding . . .

 

(from https://www.rhymezone.com/r/rhyme.cgi?typeofrhyme=perfect&loc=dmapi2&Word=riding)
". . . biding, chiding, gliding, griding, guiding, hiding, iding, leidang, leiding, niding, priding, scheiding, scheidung, siding, sleiding, sliding, striding, tiding, triding, widing . . . abiding, backsliding, bekleidung, bestriding, betiding, blindsiding, broadsiding, colliding, confiding, cowhiding, deciding, deriding, dividing, eliding, entscheidung, free-riding, freeriding, girlguiding, hagriding, hang-gliding, hang gliding, horse-riding, in hiding, joyriding, landsliding, lowriding, misguiding, nitriding, outriding, presiding, providing, rawhiding, residing, subsiding, surfriding, verkleidung . . . coinciding, cyaniding, edvin ryding, law-abiding, overriding, paragliding, peroxiding, railroad siding, redividing, subdividing, suiciding . . . .carbonitriding . . ."



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Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Toss It . . .

Six AM,
The buses aren't nearly as crowded
As the night before.
Someone said there was
Music and laughter 
Behind all the shutters and doors.
What was all of it for?

Who needs friends?
There's barely a minute for breathing.
Everyone here works so hard.
There's no party.
When I reach my doorstep
I struggle to pull out my key.
Where's the meaning for me?
You see but you're unaware
There's life on the other side.

But there's no bridge to cross.
I'm looking through the fog
For some way out of here.
I've baggage here to toss.

Bless my soul!
I've read about you in the paper.
I've seen your picture somewhere.
When you speak it's in volumes and volumes.
I can't hear a word that you say.
Funny it happens that way.

I've been told 
That envy's the thing I've been feeling
For your kind of work and your play.
But to tell you the truth
That it's only a wish 
For a new kind of day,
When worry and fear melt away.
Could be 
That a day will come
When you just might understand.

I’d like to go away.
And go there to stay.
But I can’t find the way.

So it goes,
But change never really comes easy.
Resistance is felt all around. 
But inevitably something happens
That makes the old ship run aground.
We all stare in awe of what’s found.
Like me you appear to be
Looking for some meaning here.


Baggage

©2021 Raymond M. Jozwiak
from the forthcoming release 'Grains'



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Monday, March 7, 2022

Held Together . . .

There was a time
When I was so unsure 
Of how I would find
My way through tears and trouble.
This big world can
Look so scary 
To a little boy
On his own.

It's held together by your love.
So secure sometimes it's frightening.
The thread connecting
All the right things
That help me to survive.
It's held together by your love.
It's so sure it strikes like lightning
A breeze refreshing
Me when I 
Find that life is cruel.
It's held together by your love

I'm not one to run away
From each little storm.
Only fools refuse assistance
As they're carried downstream in the 
Rushing foam

I look around,
Concerned for much 
I see now.
I may have found
The rare elusive why and how
That everyone keeps searching
For, to bind or mend
All life's loose ends.


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