Author @ Blaise Kielar

Blaise Kielar received Honorable Mention in the 2022 Alex Albright Creative Nonfiction Prize for an excerpt from his memoir in progress, "Be Heard: The Quiet Kid Who Started the World’s Loudest Violin Shop." He opened Chapel Hill’s first violin shop in 1978 and retired from a music retail career by transitioning Electric Violin Shop into the first worker-owned co-op music store in the United States. He plays jazz violin and clarinet in several bands and leads the Bulltown Strutters, Durham’s community New Orleans brass band.

THIS SCHOOL

This school never closes though students can be dismissed any time they can never go home again and again they try to master today’s lesson for totally ingrained is the grief for today as it fades and the fear of what the new teacher, tomorrow, will require of us

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Arms

Blood, rubble, hate, outrage what hysterical god made forgiveness and reconciliation so difficult? It appears we can never walk together our words congeal and dissolve on the screen of I blame assigned as precisely as a misguided missile as carefully as a spent cartridge on concrete. Miles and years away we both thresh pain seeking […]

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3:00 AM Café du Monde

Hot beignet drops from shaking hand, phosphorescent meteor of confectioners sugar scatters sweetness to a silent Jackson Square. The plump fried pastry sparks to life upon splashdown in a Mississippi colored puddle, succulent ripples breach the curb, strut down the sidewalk, lap on doors, then leap to the humid air, to penetrate every lacy wrought […]

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Again

a twitch of a finger speeds hot lead through skin and bone to burst a heart life oozing to gray the equalizer the peacemaker easy executioner no judge no jury the burning ricochet cuts us all down mockeries of truth of brotherhood what might have been no fear no corpse no twitch

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LAST HALF

Consider July a smelling salt to rouse your faint year from sleepwalking, startled nostrils finally snort in this year’s bouquet. Ponder the steam of August melting towards September, yellow school bus dinosaurs prowl the morning roads to ingest reluctant morsels, cool shoes and backpacks the last whiff of freedom down institutional hallways. Daydream out windows […]

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SIREN CHORD

  Morning rung to attention by distant train horn beckoning me like an iron bell to a churchgoer. Ears pass the call inside, stomach rumbles for new roads, nose hungry for scraping steel. My feet’s rhythm quickens, the louder tones now clear – five penetrating notes stacked up in extravagant harmony, complete yet open, pleasing […]

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Frankie on the Waterfront

“Go to the next light and make a ubie,” our Philly bred waitress explained at the end of the fireworks dinner cruise celebrating my Dad’s 92nd birthday. It must have been after he and Olga danced the Cupid Shuffle that she added the extra endearing syllable to his name. Frank had never been called Frankie […]

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NANTICOKE 1926

My mother at home in Nanticoke, Pennsylvania   Dust of the coal mines on the window sill lightened to gray by a gentle snow, our simple clapboard house also freshened from within by the exotic smell of oranges, a seeming miracle delivered only at the holidays from some far off land, an extravagant purchase that […]

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Not like riding a bicycle

It has been over 20 years since I rehaired a violin bow.  I guess that is really my first ‘retirement,” when I gleefully gave up a profession that demanded perfection beyond my mere mortal skills. Although over 3000 players were satisfied with my work, I always found flaw in each one! So when a fellow […]

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LAST YEAR

Last year I smiled at the honeybees as they went about their work, all buzz and hover along a wall of sweetness. This year I stare at lonely blossoms on a silent sun strewn wall and try to convince myself that they will come back.

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