A flower is
as simple as that
not for me
not for you

A flower blooms
despite applause
with no desire
of “oohs” and “ahs”

& for that reason
I will sing
& gladly take my bows
to crickets

On days like today
I scribble and erase
at aria lines

‘til Gounod is a mess,
Bizet leaves the room,
and Verdi goes
completely insane

while Mozart and I
share our madness
in a glass of champagne

and all that’s left to do
is to scream Puccini
into the skeleton
of an empty opera house.

My healing is in the singing:

In the ribbons of blue sighs

I unravel legato lines.

In the resonance of spirit sorrows

I set free vibrato cries.

In the release of breaths held

& the colors re-warmed

I let ring from the soul.

Writing and photography by: Katy Claire Funke

7 thoughts on “Singing Poems

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