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Two aging message senders
and receivers, circumspect
men of reflective thoughts
and words spoken, written.
Wayfarers from divergent
oceans converging.

Both Harpooners of the
unexamined life, seekers
of truths and wisdom.
Kindred spirits different
and yet the same,
A spiritual awakening,
a brotherly bond in the making.

Both touched and renewed
by a voyage taken
upon a common sea
of curious self discovery.
For Nat and his effort to cross a
continent to extend the hand
of friendship and discover "Oregun."
Goodbye, my dear friend, for now.
I’m gone for only a day,
But I know that you know how,
for our next minuet, I’ll await.

Goodbye, my dear ol’ Chickering,
‘Til the next time I’ll sit and then
I’ll listen to your diamond ring
Bless my ears again.

Thank you, yes you, my dear,
For offering your friendly counsel,
For lending me your patient ears
Over years and through tears as well.

Just a day, my dear, lil’ piano,
Until I’ll peer again into your musical window.
6/17/18

I realized today just how... much... I truly do love my piano. Even if I play the same, singular song over and over again, I just love to stop by the piano in my few free minutes of down time and sing and play. I often revisit the same songs just because I know how to play them while singing and do it well (or at least fairly decently in my mind) during those few short minutes. I’ve often been so overwhelmed with happiness that J’ve just wanted to play, giving me an excuse to belt the lyrics as loud as I can (lol) or play to finally release any restrained or built up stress from throughout the day. I suppose I use it to cope with many things. I suppose I use music in general for this purpose: to cope. It’s either that, or to motivate or inspire me to do something. Also, sometimes, I suppose a “Disney princess” just wants a dramatic background orchestral acccompaniment to what she does, lol... I may not have an orchestra, but I have my piano... and that’s all I need. ❤️☺️
 Jun 2018 Miguel Carmona III
jay
back then,
i used to be afraid
of the darkness
and what lurked
within it
now,
it isn't the darkness
that alarms me
but the mere thoughts
that come stray
behind it
midnight isn't the best time to ponder
is it?
I wake in the quiet hours
When the world is sleeping
I roll over, drawn to your warm and soft skin
You roll over and groan
Waking from the world of dreaming
Mumbling beautiful nothings in your French smoky tone
In the dark, my senses guide my lips to yours and you pull me home

You gently rise
I listen to your sweet steps as they meet the floor
The waking aroma of the espresso fill my lungs
You return to the still room
I hear the crinkling as you roll your morning cigarette
I slowly lift my head
My heavy eyes meet yours and you know what my heart is saying

Je t'aime
I am home
Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it

Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell

Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent

Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose

It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach

Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away

Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light

Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back

— The End —