Dissonance Poem by Jenny Kalahar

I awoke, still half-dreaming of a chord that haunted
emotions flying through me like swift birds swooping
It wouldn't leave me, I couldn't rouse
I needed to hear it once again

Picking up mandolin, guitar
sitting to piano, strumming harp
I searched with fingers bared to strings' vibrations
and ears straining for a match

Unable to find that combination of notes
that consonance remembered
I slammed through chord and through discord
balanced fingers over ivory, then wire
almost not even trying as the night wore on
I knew it wouldn't come
and suspected these weary ears would not recognize it if it did

Nearly heading back to dreams, I floated into dissonance and liked it
Flats eating up naturals
sharps jabbing in half-steps across my heart
digging in with pitchforks of incongruity
those augmented, sniggering bullies
as they create their own melody of mystery and confusion
scrabbling down the black and white spine of my piano
down the side of harp, and across the lined faces of guitar and mandolin

I was lost when I went searching
I was healed and hale and hearty
when I rose from those instruments
I will not search by pick, or plunk, or pad on string
on string, on string again.
I love you, dear rough dissonance
Some imagined perfect chord would not have cured me so
Your poking, prodding scraped open my scars
the flesh beneath renewed