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brycicalPoems
When the wood touches my lips my whole body trembles-- triplet trebles drip quickly out.... In my head, I sound nothing like the spheres surrounding the guitar's melancholy, mellow below comes above and I WAIL..... sailing these sounds swaddling the drumbox beat to a crescendo exercising all the ills I've swilled and spilled-- FILLING the house FILLING my self.... radiating away all thoughts of doubt. a reminder of the Bird 'Tranes a reminder of the names I used to sing...... Silence seems like such a foreign concept again.
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Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 8:37 PM UTC
Picking up my saxophone for the first time in several years
When the wood touches my lips my whole body trembles-- triplet trebles drip quickly out.... In my head, I sound nothing like the spheres surrounding the guitar's melancholy, mellow below comes above and I WAIL..... sailing these sounds swaddling the drumbox beat to a crescendo exercising all the ills I've swilled and spilled-- FILLING the house FILLING my self.... radiating away all thoughts of doubt. a reminder of the Bird 'Tranes a reminder of the names I used to sing...... Silence seems like such a foreign concept again.
brycical
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brycical
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 8:37 PM UTC
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