Poetry, it is said should be read aloud.  You need to listen to it, like music.  When the poetry is about music, this approach gains an even more significant hue.  It brings forth images that you have seen, heard and experienced, but in the rush through life may have passed you by. You know those moments.  The anticipation of a concert when a musician rosins up their bow or simply takes an instrument from a case. A piper preparing for action or the looks exchanged between musicians mid set.  All of these acts, small and insignificant as they may be, colour our world and contribute in a large way to how we emotionally connect with the music, the musicians and the occasion.

Pete Mullineaux's new collection of poems, simply called Session explores many of these themes and emotions in a way that makes you realise that these moments really do matter. With requisite craft he takes you into a world of observed moments, of habits and rituals, leaving you with a more enriched feeling of the occasion at hand. This is The Power of Now in poetic terms.  Moments captured and thoughts expressed, first as words, and then as thoughts again, in the mind of the reader.  It’s about musicians and the endless tunes that fill their lives.  He writes that "There are more tunes here than stars in sky - just as you thought you knew one corner of the cosmos more galaxies appear"

Pete's poetry is well observed and uplifting.  It celebrates the world of musicians, music, sound and the silence that can go unnoticed.  It is his eye for the detail of the moments that we all experience but that sadly pass us by.  His poetry is very accessible, especially for those that love this music. As a player himself he is better placed to write about it than most.  It’s a beautifully written work that makes you slow down and move to a less frantic pace both in your music, and in life.

All materials are alive -
at least in the sense they
have potential to make sound.

Metals ring, while woods vibrate,
put them together you have
guitars and violins -

inside of which, the tunes are
only sleeping...

                             From "A Slow Start to the Set"
 

She shuffles it like a pack of cards,
testing the silent breath in the pleats.
With the air button pressed, fingers tease
but the instrument stays mute -

if push comes to shove, you could play
this way all day, under the table,
hands coming together, moving apart

never quite meeting; like almost clapping -


                              
                                            From "Concertina"

Come here to me,
into my song -
let us spread the cloak
of grief wide.

                       From "Solace"

To read more review and to purchase visit : www.salmonpoetry.com

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