Guest Post: Music And A Poet

I love the imagery created by today’s guest artist Melinda Cochrane.

Enjoy!

Music and a poet
The cowbell fell,
sound met color
and metaphoric light hit the poet’s eyes,

it stood out there alone

on staged wooden boards with one arm longer than the other and kaleidoscopic beginnings
ignite sitting matrons in rows
hiding poetry,

the patron of music
sent the mind spinning,

looking for spoons placed
in blues sounding from Cornel’s Harvard diploma,

reaching for the proletariat,

and it hit her head,

bam,

anything against the rhythm,

golden belly dancers,
barefooted,
kept echoes from hitting
raven hair falling in the middle of back rooms from
ripped head scarves for

anything against the rhythm,

anything against the rhythm,
leaning in shades of color from tinsel recorded
on floors and it turns the poet into
yellow moons flashing greens in rum bottles ,

baby the beat is flooding floor lines and the opium rooms of history take lessons
from butter moving in dropping rain

covered with silk

crimson

pouring the soul out
of the mouth piece and two blue roses stand side by side,

the beat takes part in the game
and
the poet makes love to the shaped out
triangle suspended in paint and red is the color,

standing out on thronged charms of visual perception,
playing outside a fanned window,
a ladder waiting for
entry,
bad being a state of mind spreading quiet out of
magic,
heating in the funnel painted from vibrating
metals,

against the rhythm plays without mother’s milk and a Polish immigrant paid the bills for the rumba,
and sound out of color circles a one-timed
four standing and the beat
sways moments with all hands
shattering melody and the poet floats from her place on the back wall,
moving over them with air bubbles blowing through her
eyes,
her hand holding their heads waiting for inspiration to give her the pitch for poems pouring from wine glasses of grey lines
from operatic voices,

and they praise
hats paying pensions to the guitar,
but anything against the rhythm
blasts light down her throat
and words come forth from dimes suspended on water.
By Melinda Cochrane

Details:

From: Melinda Cochrane, All Rights Reserved

Blog / Website: http://melindacochrane.weebly.com/

Technique & Style: Melinda Cochrane was raised in Newfoundland. She graduated from Memorial University with a Bachelor of Arts and a Bachelor of Education. She teachs at Beaconsfield high school on the west island. Her first publication was with ditch poetry and The Stray Branch literary magazine with work recently published with Backalong books in “The art of poetic inquiry. She’s published in online magazines such as, Life as a human, Young Men’s Perspective Magazine, and Shannon Grissom’s magazine. Melinda has recently received the Mary Belle Campbell scholarship for poetry from the North Carolina Writers Network. Also winner of the summer Malahat review weekly monostich contest. She has work forthcoming in the Quills literary poetry journal. Her collection of poetry called “The man who stole father’s boat”, also with Backalong Books, is one of hope and encouragement for all those living in the social welfare system.