Two Poems by Lisa J Coates
from Sonata
The Violinist
‘Inspired by and symbolic of the most beautiful
human object, the woman’s body…‘
—Yehudi Menuhin
Fingers trace maple-hued｜polished lines, sliding｜over belly and ribs to rest｜in curve of waist｜With delicate touch｜the musician picks up｜her instrument, pressing｜body against body｜wrapping a loving hand｜around the slender neck｜Tuning begins, winding｜tighter and tighter｜The violin hums in anticipation｜of rosin hair against her strings｜Upbeat breath, bow｜to top string, the musician｜coaxes the violin to life｜As she begins｜ her downward arc｜the violin calls out｜a soft cry of music, music｜With masterful strokes｜the musician commands｜dancing between｜legato, spiccato, col legno｜Mistress and instrument bow｜their backs in ecstasy｜invoking leitmotif in absolute｜harmony. Rising｜to long-awaited climax｜the violin erupts｜in a glorious cadenza｜singing the full-｜range of her pleasure｜from throaty contralto｜to sweet soprano. The bow is lifted and 𝄐｜Coasting down from her peak｜the violin reaches perfect cadence｜Fingers trace the maple-hued｜ polished lines, sliding｜over the belly and ribs to rest｜in the curve of waist｜With delicate touch｜the musician puts down｜her instrument separating｜body from body｜unwrapping loving hand｜from slender neck｜She lays her lover｜in her velvet bed to rest｜whispering brava amour, encore ‖
The Composer
I have a colleague who has claimed that the only evidence he would accept for the presence
of a woman’s voice in music is the demonstration that there can be “tits on chords”.
— Susan McClary, musicologist from ‘Feminine Endings’
Hysterical themes and tits on chords.
That’s what I write.
Immodest. Uncontrite.
Shouldn’t I be content to wait
in the wings, where
the light doesn’t reach —
an acciaccatura to man’s main beat?
Instead, I’m pumping out
compositions instead of kids.
Hemiolas high on sex hormones,
Études on oestrogen and
progesterone fuelled pentatonic
scales as if I had something to say —
but how can I compose music
when my boobs get in the way?
Lisa J Coates is a multi-disciplinary artist working as a professional musician, writer, and stage director. She has poems in or forthcoming in York Literary Review, Anthropocene, Southbank Poetry Magazine, Dear Reader, Levatio and Northern Gravy and is mentored by Helen Mort. A classically trained mezzo-soprano, she has performed internationally in opera and contemporary music, recorded for Naxos, Delphian, Touch and Boreas, performed live on television and radio. She is based in Yorkshire.