Frank Corcoran

irish composer


Dawn´s fingers definitely rosy, I mull on here. Apparently nothing ( that´s right, no thing nor Thing ) can anchor me here in my existence, in my split consciousness ( – certainly I am here, feet of sand, head in the clouds, pen racing, memory fit as a fiddle; but also not here ) as mull becomes blog becomes blur becomes no thing. So that´s my First Song ( in the Violin Concerto this upandcoming November 2 ) in the newly shaping Cello Concerto. What´s its Second Song of Cosmic Indifference, I wonder ? Is it eg. ” Oh she led us a pretty daunce, I´m telling you ” or ” Our little lives are rounded by a sleep” or ” Hear my song of now, of the high hills, of the high A – string, pure gush… ” ? Time will tell. After the dawning.

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