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Chrysalis Cycle

by Dylan Librande

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1.
I. Rush 03:07
the carpet is breathing. play telephone with creaking floorboards: imprints on your cheek spell out mildewed Morse. inhale, inhale, inhale, until tendrils splayed over your shoulders hang down to the ceiling. kittens cocoon in light fixtures, dust collects on the soles of your shoes, and sage-colored curtains puddle against crown molding. watch as fireworks spread from your lungs to your eyes, singeing lashes and muttering curses at the sky. remember that laying face down is not the same as standing three feet from the wind, hoping that it will hold your hand and smile as you scream.
2.
I imagine the disappointment of the beetle who, still drunk from the summer sun, stumbles into a glass of grape juice which sits on the kitchen table, masquerading itself as wine
3.
III. Prayer 04:42
He dug in the cemetery’s farm finding lemons instead of potatoes gold instead of bones and you, Clara, instead. You skin, still breathed ripe like lemons, bled like lemons sweetened in his hands like lemonade Clara, he sang a song of lament: Marry me! Marry me tomorrow and tonight, his fingers crumbled, the tips like prunes Clara, my wrists sour, they burn until you marry me! make me sweet, lay my seed we will grow trees here! fields of fruit, warm from the Sun who loves it, mouth full with burnt tongue and lips that drip acid, he begged Clara Clara Clara!

about

Composed in 2015, the Chrysalis Cycle is a set of three English art songs using poems from The Chrysalis, Willamette University's yearly publication of student poetry and art.

Performed by Madison Hall, soprano, and Sherry Liang, piano, in Hudson Hall on February 5, 2016. Special thanks to Dr. John Peel for his guidance during the composition of these songs.

Rush - Laura Miller

the carpet is breathing. play telephone with
creaking floorboards:
imprints on your cheek
spell out mildewed Morse. inhale,
inhale,
inhale,
until tendrils splayed over your shoulders
hang
down
to the ceiling.
kittens cocoon in light fixtures,
dust collects on the soles of your shoes,
and sage-colored curtains puddle
against
crown
molding. watch as fireworks
spread from your lungs
to your eyes,
singeing lashes and
muttering curses
at the sky. remember that laying
face
down
is not the same
as standing three feet from the wind,
hoping that it will hold your hand and
smile
as you
scream.

Communion - Jamie Ervin

I imagine the disappointment of the beetle

who, still drunk from the summer sun,
stumbles into a glass of grape juice

which sits on the kitchen table,
masquerading itself as wine

Prayer - Jamie Ervin

He dug in the cemetery’s farm
finding lemons instead of potatoes
gold instead of bones
and you, Clara,
instead.

Your skin, still breathed
ripe like lemons,
bled like lemons
sweetened in his hands
like lemonade

Clara,
he sang a song
of lament:
Marry me!
Marry me tomorrow
and tonight,
his fingers crumbled,
the tips like prunes

Clara, my wrists sour,
they burn until you marry me!

make me sweet, lay my seed
we will grow trees here!
fields of fruit,
warm from the Sun who loves it,

mouth full with burnt
tongue and lips that drip
acid, he begged
Clara
Clara
Clara!



All texts used with permission of their respective authors.

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released February 6, 2016

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