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On My Desk
There is a single hand
rendered in greys shadowed
to cool aubergine; fingers
lithe, but not without aquiline
intention poised above the keys.
Is it Rachmaninoff or a Bach
fugue in minor C
with hopes of a happy third,
or simply a pause amidst
the drizzle of the snare,
rainy day jazz,
angry with the saxophone
leaving me longing
for the D minor on the down beat?
Each day the hand plays
against a backbeat of silence.
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Hearing the same song my friend. Well written.
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(Yesterday, 12:53 PM)brynmawr1 Wrote: On My Desk
There is a single hand
rendered in greys shadowed
to cool aubergine; fingers
lithe, but not without aquiline
intention poised above the keys.
Is it Rachmaninoff or a Bach
fugue in minor C
with hopes of a happy third,
or simply a pause amidst
the drizzle of the snare,
rainy day jazz,
angry with the saxophone
leaving me longing
for the D minor on the down beat?
Each day the hand plays
against a backbeat of silence.
I take this to be a picture of a hand, and not a stand in for someone typing angry emails at his keyboard, as the backbeat of silence wouldn’t make sense there
Which then begs the question of which painting, which hand. Is there a cultural reference I’m missing?
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Joined: May 2022
6 hours ago
(This post was last modified: 6 hours ago by brynmawr1.)
(Yesterday, 03:21 PM)busker Wrote: (Yesterday, 12:53 PM)brynmawr1 Wrote: On My Desk
There is a single hand
rendered in greys shadowed
to cool aubergine; fingers
lithe, but not without aquiline
intention poised above the keys.
Is it Rachmaninoff or a Bach
fugue in minor C
with hopes of a happy third,
or simply a pause amidst
the drizzle of the snare,
rainy day jazz,
angry with the saxophone
leaving me longing
for the D minor on the down beat?
Each day the hand plays
against a backbeat of silence.
I take this to be a picture of a hand, and not a stand in for someone typing angry emails at his keyboard, as the backbeat of silence wouldn’t make sense there
Which then begs the question of which painting, which hand. Is there a cultural reference I’m missing?
Hi Busker,
Picture of a hand it is. There isn't really a picture though. Just an image that popped into my head and then I tried to come up with a story around it which turned more towards questions about what might be going on regarding an image that should be moving but is still. The idea kind of intrigued me and kept my brain busy while I cut the grass yesterday. I think the title isn't really doing much to help. On reading it again, it sort of suggests there is a hand lying on my desk!
Anyway, thanks for stopping by.
Bryn
(Yesterday, 02:37 PM)Harryd Wrote: Hearing the same song my friend. Well written.
Thanks Harry. Glad you liked it and welcome to the Pen.
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Joined: May 2026
You just lose me completely in S1, which reads very purple and gives me little reason to strap in and suffer through the self-indulgence. "Rendered, lithe, aquiline, intention" - thesaurus syndrome.
Gets better once the poem starts having fun, "happy third" is clever, "drizzle of the snare" is wonderfully evocative and tactile. Also liked "angry with the saxophone" which is absurdly hilarious and has great rhythm, though the two lines that follow kind of spoil the moment by being flat and explanatory.
Last two lines, the usual distasteful summative impulse. Yawn.
Some good moments that need a lot of saving.
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Threads: 29
Joined: Jan 2026
(Yesterday, 12:53 PM)brynmawr1 Wrote: On My Desk
There is a single hand
rendered in greys shadowed
to cool aubergine; fingers
lithe, but not without aquiline
intention poised above the keys.
Is it Rachmaninoff or a Bach
fugue in minor C
with hopes of a happy third,
or simply a pause amidst
the drizzle of the snare,
rainy day jazz,
angry with the saxophone
leaving me longing
for the D minor on the down beat?
Each day the hand plays
against a backbeat of silence.
I got a framed drawing standing on a a desk, a figure study of a hand. I'm fine and clear with it, not sure on whether or not it includes the keyboard or if the N's imagination starts there but I'm fine either way, in the room.
I enjoyed the wondering of what music was in the air and enjoyed the options the poem gave me. You might end on "down beat", for me the silent room came across without the last lines.
Thanks for posting it, an interesting read.