Thread: Satie

The wooden piano stool
lets out a startled creak
beneath my weight as I
try my hand at a Satie
piece. My fingers stumble
gracefully like a drunk
missing a step and it’s
dissonant in all the wrong
ways but I don’t care
and I don’t think Satie
would either. “Beautiful,”
he would mumble beneath
his collection of umbrellas,
“just beautiful.” I mouth
out the one two three waltz
of the song as I keep my
foot on the sustain peddle
filling up the room with
a flood of color tones
I can only imagine
achieving with a multitude
of multi-colored umbrellas
spinning madly until
it all blends together.

I am sorry-I thought I knew where this was going-but became confused [my fault ] when you wrote about the umbrellas...I love it when I read a poem and the Writer includes a note about the inspiration of the poem.I think maybe you were comparing musical notes to umbrellas?The first 4 lines were intriguing . Thank you for sharing -Peace Jul

I love the enjambment here and the syllabics. The rhyme is not obvious which also helps the flow. The rhythm of this matched the subject well.

Erik Satie collected umbrellas like it was nobody's business

Ah, Satie. My favorite iconoclastic piano composer. I would be interested in knowing why he collected umbrellas. The eccentric collect the strangest things (I used to collect boxing gloves). The poem is very impactful but, in my mind's eye, I see just a few extranious words. I'll point them out in purple highlights.


Satie

The wooden piano stool
lets out a startled creak
beneath my weight as I
try my hand at a Satie
piece. My fingers stumble
gracefully like a drunk
missing a step and it’s
dissonant in all the wrong
ways but I don’t care
and I don’t think Satie
would either. “Beautiful,”
he would mumble beneath
his collection of umbrellas,
“just beautiful.” I mouth
out the one two three waltz
of the song as I keep my
foot on the sustain peddle
filling up the room with
a flood of color tones
I can only imagine
achieving with a multitude
of multi-colored umbrellas
spinning madly until
it all blends together.

achieving with a multitude
of multi-colored umbrellas
spinning madly until
it all blends together.

This ending is absulutely beautiful! A perfect close to this captivating poem. You remind me I haven't slipped Satie into my CD player in some time. Think I'll put him in his proper place and listen today. Thank you so much for this. Good! Keep writing. Laurie