Poem: James Newton Howard Scores The Sixth Sense

A poem about listening to movie scores, and contemplating process

It’s almost as if he knew what to play,
and how to say it, like he’d been there

before. My dog in a bundle right next
to me. The world can wait. It’s early.

James Newton Howard using strings
to pierce to the heart, to piece it all

together — even without the bow to
tie up the loose ends. People have asked

how you know something is a poem, or
wonder how it can be declared. Look,

it’s because I said so, in my case
anyway. Might be the same for James

when he writes his musical cues. And
that’s not a comparison by the way.

I could never be that hopeful, just, you
know, different people, different methods.