{"id":92140,"date":"2021-06-26T14:39:26","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T18:39:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=92140"},"modified":"2021-06-26T14:39:33","modified_gmt":"2021-06-26T18:39:33","slug":"hour-six-2021-responding-to-a-musical-piece","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/hour-six-2021-responding-to-a-musical-piece\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour Six, 2021  \/ Responding to a Musical Piece"},"content":{"rendered":"<pre>Until nothing remained but the soaring melodies \r\nPandora's demons escaped and \r\nwrithed twisted gnarls\r\naround years filled with divisive tears\r\ncruelties and blind loyalties\r\ndeadends leading to deaths\r\nstony silent under silent stones.\r\nPandora's box had been nothing but \r\na mirror after all, \r\nwhich revealed the dankest rank within \r\nourselves which we alone drank in, \r\npoisoning our goodness with greed. \r\nWe drank first eagerly then regretfully\r\naware that we had to imbibe what we \r\npoured to others. \r\nChurns and churls mixed within us, and \r\nwe came to cleanse the evil we had \r\nlet into the world.\r\n\r\nWe emerged and gazed upoon what was left.\r\nOur mirrors now showed who remained being\r\ngaunt, exhausted, depleted, and alone.\r\n\r\nIt was then the music began.\r\nA beat for each heart's patter softly sounding\r\ncalled out for circle of dance. \r\nClumsy and forgetful, \r\nwe tapped and gingerly first held hands\r\nafter such divisive distance \r\nwhen hours grew into days into weeks into months\r\nisolating us from these melodies, from each other. \r\nMusic had remained, yet we were deafened because we \r\nsaw only ourselves in the mirror. \r\nNow swells of flutes and violins soar \r\nabove and within us, \r\nsinging the names of those we've lost\r\ncalling out the prayers and verses we now must learn. \r\n\r\nOnly the music remains and builds as we begin anew. \r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Until nothing remained but the soaring melodies Pandora&#8217;s demons escaped and writhed twisted gnarls around years filled with divisive tears cruelties and blind loyalties deadends leading to deaths stony silent under silent stones. Pandora&#8217;s box had been nothing but a mirror after all, which revealed&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1019,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-92140","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92140","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1019"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=92140"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92140\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":92437,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92140\/revisions\/92437"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=92140"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=92140"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=92140"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}