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The Audible Spectrum

Day lilies.

Proem: Rainbow Ghazal, by Elaine G. Schwartz

Vibrations of Light,
Vibrations of Sound

The word, "red," is not the color to which it refers. Actually, color words refer to a range of experiences. "Red" isn't simply red, it is many shades and variations. Different people will draw the line between red and orange differently. Some years ago, I used Water in the Lake, by Kenneth Maue, in writing classes. Water in the Lake is a collection of scripts for performance pieces, both individual and group. One piece is "Three Days of Red," in which the performer writes down every red thing he or she sees over three days. Discussing results in class always brought out differences in what students call "red." Keep this subjectivity in mind as you read these ghazals.

For years, we had a book in our freezer — one of the pieces in Water in the Lake has the performer wrap a book and put it in a freezer. Sadly, Water in the Lake is out of print; if you're interested, though, you should be able to find a used copy. Perhaps I'll put my copy in the freezer; then it would be frozen Water in the Lake.

The audible spectrum, the spoken, heard, written, read as distinct from the visible spectrum.

Rainbow Ghazal

Elaine G. Schwartz

Death's children ride merrily beneath the rainbow
Three score and ten warily beneath the rainbow

Red dust catches the moon's frosty refrain
Seven ravens dip carefully beneath the rainbow

Blood circles the crown of shattered gold
Mad moonlit maids dance daringly beneath the rainbow

Time's ancient prairies are coated in dust of bone
Night winds scream breathlessly beneath the rainbow

The devil's dark drones dance across the sky
Drop phosphorescent terror gleefully beneath the rainbow

Seven score and more cross night's golden frontier
Dark stench of death rises prayerfully beneath the rainbow

Where there is no bread, only dancing skeletons eat
Their music dies garishly beneath the rainbow

Lost children play hopscotch across glass shattered streets
As mushroom clouds burst poetically beneath the rainbow

Mother's solace burns brightly in the braided bark of birch trees
Illumines the steady black rain falling gently beneath the rainbow



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