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Zywa Jul 2023
The audience isn't

listening to the concert --

It's background music.
Collection "The drama"
Glenn Currier May 2022
There’s a concert in my back yard
solos and duets all day
a circus with acrobatics
clowns painted with reds, blues and browns
just feet from my perch
here as I peck on the  keys
the stars fly in
then flit away with ease
as if to tell me:
you can’t hold me long
with your seeds and your eyes
we are free to dive the skies.
With gratitude to John Wiley and his poem, “Kookaburra” -  - the inspiration for this poem.
Him Jan 2021
I could write a novel, with all these words I didn't say. And, I could hold a concert, with all these screaming voices in my brain.
I could do so much...
Zack Ripley Dec 2020
The wind. The wolves.
The trees. The snow.
They all wait for night to fall
Across the land
so they can play their parts in their secret band.
If you're out in the country and listen carefully,
You can hear them play their songs in a concert they hold in the darkness before the dawn. Wait for the light of the moon to shine upon the ****** snow.
That's when you know
It's time for the show
Egbebi mariam Jun 2020
At the concert;
Thousands of idle workers,
Filled the stadium awaiting excitement,
Screaming and howling in the air;
Waiting for the podium to birth happiness.

On the stage;
Voice of thrilling pianos,
Screams of guitars walking to the souls,
Yelling sound of the hungry crowd;
Loosing the string of their heart.

During the concert;
Rolling heart of a roller coaster,
The music grip the heart of lover,
Beats strong enough to take us all to rapture,
Everyone brain danced forgetting the Alphabet.

After the concert;
After the seventh heaven journey;
Which I have never experienced since birth.
I digested the soft cloud voice of the Singer,
And wish to ever live in a concert.

©️ emywrites
Savio Fonseca Jun 2020
With the ****** Virus,
continuing it's Live Concert
on Earth
and Hell stacked,
with all Our Devil's.
I for One,
am keeping My Fingers crossed
and Praying........
that Heaven will Host Me
on their Premises.
Andrew Watson Mar 2020
flickered souls
who mourn at night
accumulate to swallow

shredded strings
battered snare
these months
weren’t easy,
tonight is

watch sorrow
and morph into
rivers of

we are
a sacred congregation
in blasphemous glory
all good things
come in

forget the man
the lies
and cry
i always wanna die

long for nothing
crave it all
is this how it feels?
to be young?
I went to a 1975 gig and it was life-changing ok
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