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The KPAC Blog features classical music news, reviews, and analysis from South Texas and around the world.

Read these poems Inspired By KPAC; the 2024 Written Word entries

Texas Public Radio put out the call for students in our listening area to share how classical music inspires them, and in the Written Word category of "Inspired By KPAC," these four entries demonstrate how the sounds on KPAC 88.3 FM can inspire creativity in other art forms beyond music.

The winners in the Written Word category will be announced during our live radio program on Saturday, January 27, 2022 at 2:00 p.m. on KPAC 88.3 FM. The public is invited to attend in person, at TPR's Malú and Carlos Alvarez Theater. Details are online at this link.

Below are this year’s Finalists:

  • Shaumprovo Debnath, Keystone School
  • Ilya Fitzhugh, Northside School of Innovation, Technology, and Entrepreneurship
  • Kyuri Moon, Claudia Taylor Johnson High School
  • Maria Rivera, International School of the Americas

*****
The Flower
by Shaumprovo Debnath
After Claude Debussy: Pour le Piano, L. 95, 2. Sarabande

The flower sits in its vase
As it has since it was plucked and sold.

If only it could remember

What it was like to grow
From the smallest seed
In the largest field
To the essence of beauty.

If only it could remember

How it felt to peek out of the soil
For the first time
Into the shining sun,
Feeding on its brilliant rays.

If only it could remember,

How when the clouds would cover it
They would drizzle peacefully the essence of life
And it would cherish it,
Thriving in a wonderful world.

If only it could remember

How tenderly the wind would blow
And it would sway the entire the field
So the other flowers seemed to wave at each other
And it would wave back.

But the flower only sits in its vase
As it has since it was plucked and sold

Alone and dying.

*****

The Border World
by
Ilya Fitzhugh
Inspired by Franz Schubert's Piano Trio No. 2

On my left lives pure efficiency,
Metal creatures that dutifully
Trudge down their given lanes.
What their masters say behind
Their whips and chains
Is quietly drowned out by a hollow
Hum, hum, hmmmmmmmmm

But my right is unmoving,
Great greens and browns
Cordoned off like the plague.
The memory of something lost
Has become so hazy and vague
That no one dares step foot
In what might as well be a grave

Yet I walk between, not fast or slow
Not rooted nor flung along by physics
I walk on pavement, so solid it hurts
So flat it smooths the conquered hill
What blocks growth is something inert
So, as I ride my bus, I pay attention
When that branch gets flung in the dirt

*****

[untitled]
by Kyuri Moon
Inspired by Elizabeth Poston's "Jesus Christ and the Apple Tree"

The sun will rise every morning
And the moon will take over every night
365 days nonstop, the sun and moon never fails to fulfill their role.
Some days the sun will not shine as much Some nights the moon will give us more Darkness
But they are still there
With light.
They have been waking us up and putting us
To sleep ever since we were welcomed to this World
But we sometimes forget their existence
And sometimes forget they have real names
Sol and Luna
Nevertheless, they've been watching over us everyday and will continue till time stops

Because they are part of our world.

*****

Pretty Like a Song
by Maria Rivera
Inspired by Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie No.1

Eyes closed, tell me
Am I beautiful?
Mirrors, cruel
Spew distorted tales
I prefer the melodies my spirit plays

To be a song
Perceived not in the confines of a gaze
But by a resonance time can’t erase.
No weighing skin or silhouette,
No mask to maintain.

Cursed is the judging eye
bound by worldly sin.
Measuring surface and form,
With pointed fingers they dissect
Skin,
A song knows no such restraint.

Physicality wanes
Eyes are cracked windows
A face is fleeting,
Forgettable.

To be a song is to be heard,
Not seen,
Not touched,
Yet felt.

Divine
My Creator, a pianist with graceful hands
Playing a ballad a heart understands.
In joy, my octaves would rise
If in grief, they’d falter flat

For if I were pretty like a song, they’d have to listen close
Let my melody guide
I suspect they'd be irked,
Forced to hear before they pry.