Broken chords
Torn heartstrings
Inspiring pain
Numbness

The wail of the electric guitar
The slow pulse of the drums
The monotony of the Bass
The slow bleeding of the singer

The music seeps out
Coalescing
Clashing
Conflicting

I see no end, only music
Music that slows time
Music that surrounds
Music that traps

A shared understanding
An outlook on the universe
A fear
Sadness

Poetic

The rain sings its melancholy sonata
Cold rhythms on the window
Wanting nothing
Living only to fall

Yet reflected in the eyes of dreamers
Caught up in a lovers wasteland
Excused as pathetic, as fallacious
Feared for its callousness

The wind humming, indifferent
The clouds forming, dark and fearful
Brooding over the greyed universe
Obscuring the sun, the light, the peaceful warmth

Leaving solitude and oppression
Leaving fears of fate and significance
Leaving drops in lovers’ eyes
And gleams in lovers’ tears

A lonely rowboat lies on a dock
Beaten by the stormy rain
Afraid to sail and tethered to the wooden quay
Held there only by a frayed knot

Maybe it will make it through the storm
Maybe it will see the shining sun
The gleaming water
The harmonious songs of fishermen

But maybe it will sink
Drowned by the noise and the ferocity and the fearful wrath of the storm
The tempest
Rage

Maybe it will succumb
Maybe its fears will sink it
Lost to a grey world
Drifting forevermore

Music is not played to make sounds
Art is not prepared to paint a picture
Books are not written to tell a story

It’s the silence

The silence after a song is performed
After a grand mural is finished
After a story is told

The silence that causes a pause –
A pause that makes people stop and listen
Listen to the silence, the knowledge, the heartbeat

And then sound
Cheering, adulation, praise
Shattering those tender seconds of utter peacefulness

And that’s why we do it all again

My desk is cluttered with a million half lived ideas
Stories, Art, Poetry, Books, Work
All forgotten
Burnt from my mind like a lobotomy

Thought strangling and poisoning my ideas
Fear
Fear of what people think, why they think, how they think
Fear of the world’s influence

And then there’s you
Reading, as if the book, the art, the poetry was made with no struggle
Reading as if it appeared like a match striking, the smoke leaving a heavy smell on the air
Reading as if it’s easy to bleed out the deepest of all emotions

Yet looking back I see images forming
Blue oceans lapping at the sandy floor
Tranquil breezes blowing the grass
Stars, shooting through the night sky

Act II
And then there’s the pain, the inevitable pain
Visceral images of torture and inhumanity
******* of the senses

And you realise that this is the story of earth
Earth before and after man
Creativity representing the freedom, the thought
Truth representing the repression, the pain

And that’s why you change
Forever

My watch whispers faithfully the turning of the universe
The trees breathe in static silence outside my window
The wind caressing their bodies, like a cold serpent
Their red leaves falling like tears

Humanity sleeps, waiting for the morning
Waiting for the fresh, the new, the different
Waiting for their prospects of rebirth to be realised
Waiting for the sun to bleed colours of crimson and coral over the silent sky

But nothing ever changes

The cycle repeats itself
Agony is poured down Earth’s open wound
Like acid
Melting away at what we once cherished

When will it end?
When the last creature cries for their fallen mother?
When the last tree falls from the vicious storm?
When the last scream echoes through the barren wasteland that we created?

The sun anxiously peers over the horizon
Humanity exploits the new day

Work
Play
Live
Die

The rhythm of the universe beats like the breath of trees
The evanescence of life pulses like the veins of the universe
Gone in a moment
Gone

But not forever