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Neelam Jun 6
Familiar chords mired in
sweet rememberance,
The right key struck
inexhaustible passion

In

A man

Who is

An idealism, a sacrosanct figure
orbited by lovelorn maidens,

Reason, wakefulness averted the
aberration ...

Adamant eyes searched for
his shadow, on this empty wall
facing my piano, as I yearned for the
untold warmth,

The unmistakable hues of him,
Borne by silhouetted arms,
reaching out for me,
Longing to caress my wounded
heart,

Mending the brokenness within,
With insatiable insanity,
instinctive love...
This poem is about my (mis)adventure of learning to play the piano while grappling with the dark secrets of a man I'm in love with.
Piano keys are like humans,
Both black and white
Alone as notes,
Just producing sounds
But together as chords,
They produce symphonies.
Every one of us has the potential to create harmony in their lives, but that often takes a great deal of collaboration and working together.

Individual sounds won't give you that pleasure and harmony that a musical chord can.

For a colourful life, we must appreciate all colours.
Lee Carter Sep 2020
[C, E, Am, F]
Break my heart but keep the pieces
Take the pain that I don't need
Cut myself on every sharp edge
Not enough blood in me to bleed

Tried to fit it back together
A puzzle that's just too hard for me
Love keeps leaking from the fine cracks
Guess that's why it's always empty



Brittle, breaking
Cold and always aching
Hurting, burning
Dumb but never learning

I am a fool
For loving you
Less than
I love
To hate myself
Something small I've been working on
Maria Mitea Jul 2020
When the orchestra begins to play
serene melodies eternally free,
drifting over gifts of hypnotic beauty,
lifting you out from the depths of the sea,

A triumphant entry rises the curtain,
and the fantasy-overture starts its story,
as wondrous morning celebrates passion
striking heart chords with fresh glory,

Waves of the sound wash over thee,
as tempo rubato steals beats of free rhythm, giving birth to vibrant embellished pearls,
preserving virtuoso’s flawless gift,  

Violine pleading into the waltz of roses
rhythmic freedom mingling  harmonic trills,
dazzling whirlwinds diffusing tasteful fragrance carried by fairy-tales over hills,

Dreamy melodies slip under the gateway, hummers striking piano strings
broken-chords accompanied by murky nocturnal interlude, where words cannot fit,

Unnoticed by virtuoso’s glistening tears
witnessing in silence mesmerizing
sounds that would never be held
in-time at the discretion of the soloist,

Lost halfway in the ebullient coda,
and musing under the canopy of the stars,
glittering gold blazing display of bravata,
entering their kingdom in discrete contrabass,  

When the orchestra begins to play
serene melodies eternally free,
drifting over gifts of hypnotic beauty,
lifting you out from the depths of the sea.
stargazer Apr 2020
i play a song
full of dissonant chords
but i won't stop
until the last note

because maybe
someone needs to hear a song
i can't hang on for me anymore.

but i'll hang on for you <3

04.08.2020
Arjun Mar 2020
Unbeknownst to humans,
There exists a song,
Where each human life is a note,
It began once we left the kiln,
And will end when we do.

Perhaps we all share the same chords,
Some may dwell as simple E chords,
While others may be minors,
Or perhaps everyone is unique,
A plethora of unheard chords,
For all we know, a B-sharp may exist too.

These chords fashion a song,
A son of chaos,
A song of harmony,
A song for no one,
A song for everyone.

I would like to hear them all,
My chord,
My purpose,
Our song,
Humanity's purpose.
Masha Yurkevich Sep 2019

When tears threat to come,
I pick up my guitar and start to
s t r u m .

And every chord has great meaning to me,
A minor, C sharp, G major, B.

I play those strings,
and they play me;
crisp,
smooth,
rich,
and clean.

I hug it's body and my fingers dance;
I play as if it's my last chance.

I hug it tighter and close my eyes.
It's a heaven;
a blessing in disguise.

It may be dead
but it's so alive,
it invigorates me and
makes me survive.


Six strings on my guitar,
bringing me

so close

and yet

so far.


The relationship between me and my guitar.
I'm serious; if it weren't for my guitar(or any of my other instruments) at times, I bet I wouldn't be here today.
Music has true power.

I'm still thinking of a good title, so please let me know if you have any! :)
c Feb 2019
Your brain is a little rock-n-roll my friend
Too much guitar solo
For you to think sometimes.
The pounding
Of the bass drum
Isn't any better.
But did you know that words
Spill out of your mouth
Like chords?
Always the sounds
That need to be heard
Even when someone
Dislikes the key.
My friend,
Life is sheet music.
Never forget that you
Are your own composer.
A poem for my best friend, hope you like this Joce!
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