Quartet

Quartet with Diminished Fifths

“mon cœur est un luth suspendu: sitôt qu’on le touche, il résonne.”
pierre-jean de béranger

I am a lute suspended.
Viola, say, tightly strung.

To your tones, I resonate.
Oh how we do celebrate

the marriage of our two souls
in issue from your f-holes?

Then it was all unmade
when damned Viola played

a bridge of twisted souls
in the Hôtel de la Mole.

I am a lute now upended.
Viola lies done; unstrung.

Note: Merry Christmas, or Happy Katyusha or whatever you celebrate at solstice time, Anon, the comments are on, the voting is on, so I gave you a twofer, because I'm sure there are more than one. Generous me. Ho,ho,ho,ha,ha. Ha.

“mon cœur est un luth suspendu: sitôt qu’on le touche, il résonne.”
pierre-jean de béranger

I am a lute suspended.
Viola humdrummingly sung

The Carriage of Cleavéd Souls,
so F your F'in f-holes.

Oh the sundering overtones,
the trilling devil's tri-tones.
Oh, what the hell!

Go play with
your trombone.
Cornpone.

Note: Eerily similar. As are most. And the rhyming coups, I would hate myself, if there wasn't such a long line in front of me. I don't want too make this too obvious, but...
Son cœur est un luth suspendu;
      Sitôt qu’on le touche il résonne.
(sic)
I am a lute suspended.
Viola! Lies.
Roll the drum.

Note: It really was a hoot when you put on black face and threatened to kick my ass. Had me in stitches.
Happy New Year Anon(s), I mean that from the bottom of my somethin.
by Anonymous09/07/13
seeking admiration

It feels like that's what your writing is about...
and then the thought trails off with a flap of sheet

Note: No, its just a hobby. And this is just a card to you, poetry adjuster.