What is sound?
what is to hear?
how many echoes color the air?
and how many sounds exist in a moment?

Cluster of dyes
mountains of frequencies
The abyss being flooded
with organized symphonies
and disorganized feeling seas.

Sound is a blind thunder,
a fire in the ear,
a mouth that pronounces your name,
and the expression of what is alive.

By the wind it runs furious
to inevitably dilute to infinity
like that first sound you heard
at the beginning of today.  

It is the magic
of those who close their eyes
and the betrayal of bare feet steps
hugging you by surprise.

Sound is also silence.
Without silence,
the sound would have no name,
and this poem
would not have been made.

- Fc.

#hear   #music   #silence   #sound   #ear  

On the barren
head of this plateau,
you're the midpoint.

A curious moon peeps
from the curve
of your neck,
flooding the
shoulders of solitude.

With a cello
between legs,
and a bow made
of moonbeams
you string those
rare beads of a tune.

Birth of sound
makes the sleeping
auras trembled.

Ancient souls explode,
fragmented forces
drink fresh
transcendence.

#god   #space   #soul   #universe   #creation   #sound  
Xavier
Xavier
Feb 10

I like depth, but I always drown.

You're not what I was looking for, but what I found.

I don't like your words, but I like your sound.

You lifted me high, and dropped me on the ground.

#love   #hate   #time   #relationship   #night   #breakup   #ocean   #sound   #breakups   #drown  

Caught a wave,
snatched the chance
to ride the tide;
took me straight
through the goosebumps,
the antennae
of the skin
protracted and receiving

...and the ripples multiplied

I always thought
the depths were cold,
not warm
but melody knows best
and I can't wait
to be surprized
holding breath
in the uneasy calm
before the storm

It crashed to the ground,
So hard it shook the planet,
It was heard around the world,
Cracked the earth and all its granite,
Which made a louder sound,
And The Jörmungandr curled.

A
B
C
B
A
C
#earth   #revolution   #sound   #crash   #norse   #impact   #trump  

I know this sound,
I’ve heard it before.
As my feet sway to the beat,
It makes my heart sore.

I know this, My brain thinks,
As my feet dance to the beat.
As my ears hear the song.
I am free.

Where? Where?
Where have I heard this glorious tune,
As my feet continue to dance,
as if they were always meant to.

The song sounds familiar,
but I can’t remember.
It bothers me as I feel the beat.

I have a feeling,
a glimpse of a memory,
that I have done this before.

Muscle memory guides me,
as I waltz flawlessly.
All across the ballroom floor.

Thinking back to years prior,
I have come to desire,
the perfect memory and brainpower
others withhold in their head.

It bothers be so,
much more than I show,
as I glide and leap and dance.

I imagine where in my past
Where’ve I had such a blast,
as where I can feel the beat and sore.
Up and around this perfect dancing floor.

I end the dance,
with a nod and a glance,
to where the music if from.
He nods at me as I leave,
his face upholding a look of glee,
as he knows the name of the song I hum.

I forget what song I danced to,
I forget the words I heard,
I forget what beat I danced to,
but tomorrow I dance to it once more.

I remember nothing,
but remember everything.
Like my someone put my memory on mute.

I have no worry and I have no strife,
because I’ve named the mystery song in my head.
It seems only fitting,
to end at the beginning,
and name it what it is.

My Personal Song.
My Glorious Tune.
The Beat that Wakes my Muscles.

My Lovely and Divine,
My Shimmer and Shine,
My Heartbeat that Soars through the sky.

My Sound so Familiar To Me.

Do not Steal Please
I see this as a Dancer who loves a Song, but can't remember any aspect of the song unless the song is playing. Then she dances like a master because her body knows the song better than her mind does.
#dance   #music   #familiar   #sound  

His words are fluid yet languid until
he changes tongues and becomes another
person entirely. His sounds become strong
and incomprehensible as he weaves
his way from language to language, dialect
to dialect. He is the manager
of worlds, the linguist. In his mind, his original
language is not his, for he is only
relaxed when amongst the foreign nature
of other languages. The rasping, uncommon
tongue of home is not comforting to him
anymore, so he will rapidly intake
other places until he finds another
sound that resonates within him.

~~ Take me anywhere away from home. ~~
#love   #words   #home   #nature   #speak   #voice   #language   #sound   #dialect   #fluent  
Dot
Dot
Jan 10

Polished and serene;
your vocal tones,
they soothe my stereocilia.

#love   #haiku   #fun   #you   #voice   #sound   #ears   #tone  

My heart retired a jockey,
A disc jockey,
Composing and singing songs.

Now I am so much tired,
It is so tired,
Of all the heartbreaks they gave.

My HP Poem #1367
©Atul Kaushal
JR Rhine
JR Rhine
Dec 29, 2016

you make me want to listen to Alkaline Trio
ironically,
for their morosity
is no longer my own. and maybe

they'd be happy for me. happily
singing their songs
with a different
lung.

#love   #sad   #happy   #listen   #music   #sound   #songs   #tone   #lung   #alkalinetrio  
 
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