Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney

And the next composer is...

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

The cracking voice of his last hours alive
singing sad notes that Sussmayr took down,
'Give them eternal rest - give me...' A frown -
he hoped perhaps his music would survive

as Handel's had. It had to, for the sake
of poor Constanze. He wished he had gone
to London, that he'd been a better son.
Closset came round, insisted that he take

hot wine, and slapped some ice around his head.
He sang the Lacrimosa, just eight bars,
he knew the rest. Notes flickering like stars
up on the ceiling - and he fell back dead

and turned to music, music that can pray
dance, lust, entwine - severe, intense and gay.

  • Had to be a London poem

    LONDON Night in a city that has licked its wounds Two thousand years. And curls around its kits Feeding and grooming heroes cowards wits Lovers and…

  • What it says

    ON LIGHT Sentience basks where crystals just reflect. Blind kittens stretch and mew into the sun Soft pressure on their skin. There's straight lines…

  • A poem sort of about science

    LORENZO ON LANIAKEIA A feather or a skeleton of leaf A spiderweb that blows in breeze when torn Out on the edge of nothing we are born Blue void's…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.