The World's Greatest Virtuoso (almost)

[Jerryk]

A/N: as a violin player I inserted some technical terms. Tartini and Paganini were some of the greatest violinists. I was not, lol.

The World’s Greatest Virtuoso (almost)

For years I played the violin,
gained calluses on fingertips
and carpal tunnel wrists that ached,
because a fiddler bows and grips.

It was my tutor who once said,
Tartini’s “Devil’s Trill” should be
my endmost talent test. In bed,
that night I had the weirdest dream:

The devil’s virtuoso came—
‘Twas Nicolo Paganini—
surrounded by hell’s smoke and flame,
he looked as he had in life—skinny.

Dressed in long, black swallow-tail,
he was a specter to behold:
all hollow-faced and without teeth,
his witch’s nose was hooked and bold.

He took my violin and bow,
bestowed on me a wicked glance,
then played his haunting strain, "Le Streghe,"
or if you will—the “Witches’ Dance.”

My always awkward bow appeared
to take on life much of its own;
it stabbed the air, and even glowed--
the instrument began to moan

and sing, lament—like tortured souls
while ectoplasm commenced to chase
along the fingerboard in streaks—
like eerie ghosts at furies’ pace.

Then trills began to pierce my brain—
shrill flageolet notes seemed to coax
my mind into the pit of hell;
amidst the bow’s spiccato strokes,

abruptly, he then ceased and spoke:
“Now listen, friend: let Beelzebub
become your master, and make you
a damned fine fiddler—in Hell's club.

HE came, a contract in his hand:
“Sign here, in rosin liquefied,
and I will make you permanent
“First fiddler” there, and certified—

or—be a dilettante, condemned
to play the second fiddle here
on Earth.” So Satan spoke to me,
while Nicolo assailed my ear

with torturous cadenzas, filled
with shrill glissandos, ghostly drones.
From this, my Stradivarius clone,
he coaxed all sorts most-haunting tones;

all ending in a fierce crescendo
that jarred me out of bed; and when
I reached for my charred violin--
it was too hot to touch again.

[dwells]

Shades of "The Devil Came Down to Georgia" Jerry - pun intended. This tongue in cheek masterpiece was indeed a virtuoso performance from beginning to end, and I heard some words I hadn't reckoned with since piano and clarinet lessons long ago. Damn this was so good! (maybe it is..?) Loved the rhyme scheme; very effective here. Going back for another read - cheers - Dan!

[Jerryk]

Shades of "The Devil Came Down to Georgia" Jerry - pun intended. This tongue in cheek masterpiece was indeed a virtuoso performance from beginning to end, and I heard some words I hadn't reckoned with since piano and clarinet lessons long ago. Damn this was so good! (maybe it is..?) Loved the rhyme scheme; very effective here. Going back for another read - cheers - Dan!

Hi there, Dan;
yeah, that tune you mentioned was a lively piece, but I got my inspiration from those two virtuosos I had mentioned. The fact is, I studied the classical violin as a youngster (9 years, every day), and the piano as well. Lots of work, lots of fun. Thanks for liking my poem, Dan. Much appreciated,
Jerry

[Jerryk]

I sooo identify with your infernal struggle as a musician so aptly portrayed. Always striving for the best and wondering if you measure up...it truly is the devil on your back. Em

Hello, Doggerel;
I'm glad you can identify with my long years of studying those etudes and endless scales that didn't really pan out for me. Many have been called, but only a few are chosen. Thank you for your nice comment; always nice to hear from someone who had the devil on his back as well.
Jerry

[Mizzy]

Superb piece of poetry Jerry,
Your violin might sound like a bag of cats,
but you've tuned your pen well !

Much enjoyed.......Mick.

[Jerryk]

Superb piece of poetry Jerry,
Your violin might sound like a bag of cats,
but you've tuned your pen well !

Much enjoyed.......Mick.

Hi Mick,
yeah, maybe I traded the violin for a pen--rather the computer keyboard. But, you being Irish, you would appreciate me playing the "Irish Washerwoman," accompanied by cracking finger joints due to age. Thanks Mick; it's good to see you. We're having a rainy day here in the desert. Wildflowers are popping up galore.
Jerry

[kryssi_nykki]

I am not frequently on the humor board but I'm glad i stopped by this time. Great poem Jerry :) sure some of the musical references went right over my head (I sing.. I've never played anything) but I liked it nonetheless.

[Balustrade]

How true it is that we obsess with certain habits that night and day dissolve into each other along with reality and fantasy.

[Jerryk]

I am not frequently on the humor board but I'm glad i stopped by this time. Great poem Jerry :) sure some of the musical references went right over my head (I sing.. I've never played anything) but I liked it nonetheless.

Kryssi, I'm glad you ventured over to this board as well; one needs to have a little fun, even with poetry. I'm delighted that you, even with the musical knowledge, could appreciate the humor. Btw,the violin resembles the human singing voice in many ways, and therefore it remains the queen of all instruments; at least in classical music. Thank you for reading and commenting,
Jerry

[Jerryk]

How true it is that we obsess with certain habits that night and day dissolve into each other along with reality and fantasy.

Hi Bal,
it's true; we humans tend to resolve the previous day's issues in our sleep, which can be frustrating, to say the least. Just last night I had a "lulu" of a dream that I, fortunately, can no longer remember--or I should be turning that darn dream into a silly poem. Thanks for commenting, Bal. Take care.
Jerry

[karrie]

This is so wonderful! Congratulations on the well deserved spotlight!

[Jerryk]

This is so wonderful! Congratulations on the well deserved spotlight!

Karrie,
thanks for the congrats. Nice to hear from you; glad you had a chance to read my fiddlydiddly poem.
Jerry

[everhopeful]

This is such a fun read, I love the ballad style of poetry when it is executed like this, where even the more serious lines come with a knowing wink, and the narrative story itself is so witty, yet also a fine parable for life. Would we sell our souls for the talent to be a virtuoso? Even though I'm utterly devoid of musical talent, the technical terms didn't exclude me.
I also understand how the desire to improve at something can get under your skin and emerge in your dreams. Even if our dreams are the only place we can be masters, it's better than nothing, right?
Congratulations on the spotlight!

[Jerryk]

This is such a fun read, I love the ballad style of poetry when it is executed like this, where even the more serious lines come with a knowing wink, and the narrative story itself is so witty, yet also a fine parable for life. Would we sell our souls for the talent to be a virtuoso? Even though I'm utterly devoid of musical talent, the technical terms didn't exclude me.
I also understand how the desire to improve at something can get under your skin and emerge in your dreams. Even if our dreams are the only place we can be masters, it's better than nothing, right?
Congratulations on the spotlight!

Thanks, Everhopeful;
I'm delighted to see how much you've read into this poem. I believe that, while I studied the violin, I might have sold my soul for that "god-given" ounce of talent. But the devil refused to cut me a deal and therefore, now I just fiddle a bit in our second-rate amateur string quartet. Thanks for the congrats, Jerry

[Josie]

Your poem brought back memories when I was a young working mom, those years when two of my daughters who were years apart played the violin. It was an excuse to kick off my shoes, close my eyes and listen when they practiced. It was one of my favorite relaxing moments. I never played any instruments or sang, so there was no correcting mom, just an occasional 'Oh, that was nice. Can you play that again?"
I enjoyed the visual images like these two::
Dressed in long, black swallow-tail,
he was a specter to behold:
all hollow-faced and without teeth,
his witch’s nose was hooked and bold.

He took my violin and bow,
bestowed on me a wicked glance,
then played his haunting strain, "Le Streghe,"
or if you will—the “Witches’ Dance.”

I enjoyed the way you varied the end rhymes, by choosing different lines in the stanzas to rhyme.
The ending made me smile. Thank you for sharing and congratulations on the TPS Spotlight.

[Jerryk]

Your poem brought back memories when I was a young working mom, those years when two of my daughters who were years apart played the violin. It was an excuse to kick off my shoes, close my eyes and listen when they practiced. It was one of my favorite relaxing moments. I never played any instruments or sang, so there was no correcting mom, just an occasional 'Oh, that was nice. Can you play that again?"
I enjoyed the visual images like these two::
Dressed in long, black swallow-tail,
he was a specter to behold:
all hollow-faced and without teeth,
his witch’s nose was hooked and bold.

He took my violin and bow,
bestowed on me a wicked glance,
then played his haunting strain, "Le Streghe,"
or if you will—the “Witches’ Dance.”

I enjoyed the way you varied the end rhymes, by choosing different lines in the stanzas to rhyme.
The ending made me smile. Thank you for sharing and congratulations on the TPS Spotlight.

[Jerryk]

Your poem brought back memories when I was a young working mom, those years when two of my daughters who were years apart played the violin. It was an excuse to kick off my shoes, close my eyes and listen when they practiced. It was one of my favorite relaxing moments. I never played any instruments or sang, so there was no correcting mom, just an occasional 'Oh, that was nice. Can you play that again?"
I enjoyed the visual images like these two::
Dressed in long, black swallow-tail,
he was a specter to behold:
all hollow-faced and without teeth,
his witch’s nose was hooked and bold.

He took my violin and bow,
bestowed on me a wicked glance,
then played his haunting strain, "Le Streghe,"
or if you will—the “Witches’ Dance.”

I enjoyed the way you varied the end rhymes, by choosing different lines in the stanzas to rhyme.
The ending made me smile. Thank you for sharing and congratulations on the TPS Spotlight.

Your poem brought back memories when I was a young working mom, those years when two of my daughters who were years apart played the violin. It was an excuse to kick off my shoes, close my eyes and listen when they practiced. It was one of my favorite relaxing moments. I never played any instruments or sang, so there was no correcting mom, just an occasional 'Oh, that was nice. Can you play that again?"
I enjoyed the visual images like these two::
Dressed in long, black swallow-tail,
he was a specter to behold:
all hollow-faced and without teeth,
his witch’s nose was hooked and bold.

He took my violin and bow,
bestowed on me a wicked glance,
then played his haunting strain, "Le Streghe,"
or if you will—the “Witches’ Dance.”

I enjoyed the way you varied the end rhymes, by choosing different lines in the stanzas to rhyme.
The ending made me smile. Thank you for sharing and congratulations on the TPS Spotlight.

Josie,
you sound like my mom; she too enjoyed listening in, especially as I got better and played duets with my dad, in particular those by Vivaldi and Corelli. Btw, there is a grain of truth in my description of Nicolo Paganini's appearance. Past middle age, he looked emaciated, didn't have a tooth in his mouth because he had them surgically removed. He was rated as the greatest violinist and listeners thought he had bartered his soul. Actually, he perfected his skills while serving time in prison. It's so nice you cared to share your thoughts with us. Thank you, Josie.
Jerry

[inflames]

The firey/charred imagery in this is beautiful. I adore it. Congrats on your spotlight!

[Jerryk]

The firey/charred imagery in this is beautiful. I adore it. Congrats on your spotlight!

I'm glad you approve of my verses, Inflames;
thanks for reading and congrats. Much appreciated,
Jerry