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Sombro Dec 2014
What a lucky man I am
For once I saw a group
Of prophets of the godly song
Before them in my stoop.

The man he played a string or two
And everybody shook
I saw him sing and dance along
With the crowds caught in his look

I watched a young girl, dark of hair
Rise and dance, her years were few
Like all those women, good of heart
I'd seen dance while they greatly grew.

Fascinating, the song's effect on
Two lovely young women too
Old as I, yet perhaps more drunk
They danced, I fell, it's true

The adults watched, sadly tired
And I too, though I'm young
Because nothing I could do could make
Me rise and beat the drum

The dance of ages brought about
By the song of years gone by
Organic music, grown from soil
Rich with thought and sly.

And now I play the strings as well
Desperate to see it again
That primal dance in beauty and me
Perhaps I'll know it when

I go back there, that thoughtful square
Where I saw those girls adance
I'll tell them then, I'll tell them there
They broke me from life's ghostly trance.
I once saw the most incredible street concert. It made me realise that music is more important than so many things. It is often the one thing we have in common.
While sitting here one sunny day
my favourite music started to play
It started soft and grew in sound
when the ***** boomed around
Emotions running high and low
while the sound of music ran its show
The sound of brass echoes through
with string quartet making things anew
The concert hall is filled with tone
chilling you right to the bone
the audience goes wild at the end of the show
and maestro conductor takes his bow
for the encore there's the sound of Bach
the audience leaves for now it is dark!
Layla Thurman Sep 2014
The music itself thumps in my chest

My body moves all on its own

My hips sway against yours

we swing our heads in rhythm


For in the moment 

when a band takes the stage

we all become the same 

united under a song



I believe this would be

a perfect movie moment

with you and I as the stars

Our own little montage



Because in this moment

I can feel your heat

We are one in the same

Our souls entwined in the song



We have to shout into each others ears

to have a conversation

though many words aren't needed

Our bodies do the talking



I guess this is what it means

to feel accepted, in love, perfect

because I can't imagine myself

dancing to this song,
with anyone else


*but you
kaylan joseph Sep 2014
Bright lights shine a silhouette and show the glowing eyes of dark souls
in a frenzy of rapid motion i feel the pulsing  of the bass drum the screaming of the cymbals and the gallop of the toms this is no energy you can escape from it creeps between the crack of every dream and the dark of every nightmare the animalistic ties you have will take you over until the drums stop and show is over
Jack Gladstone Aug 2014
2 hour trip to a concert.

One of my favorite artists.

Eventually one of yours too.

She even made what ended up being our song

It was for my birthday.

It was cancelled, the concert not my birthday.

We're taking the trip anyway.

The real present was your presence.
Issa Jul 2014
Crowd begins to rustle    
Lights begin to dim
Performers begin to sweat

The curtain fades
The noise of the audience fade    
The first act music-student's courage fades

He focuses on the notation sheet  
Stage lights focus on him    
Spectators focus on the teenager  

                 He plays the first downbow note                  
                 The crowd listens to him                    
        Lights shine, never faltering            

-

Multitude begins to grow impatient
Lasers begin to blink on
Pop stars begin to nod at each other


The darkness on the stage fades
Distraction fades from the crowd
Sweat on the band's hands fade


She focuses on the expanse of people
Yellow lights focus on all of them
The sea of people focus on the song


Bassist plays the intro
Die-hard fans listen to the heartthrob
Strobe lights shine, excitement escalates      

                                      -                                                                                                                            ­           

Big finale performed by the orchestra      
                   People shiver in their seats                        
                 Wood stage vibrates                      

         The curtains are drawn        
Listeners sated, their scores are a draw
      Philharmonic members draw smiles      

    Assembly gives a standing ovation        
Each student gives a triumphant bow    
Curtains give way          
                                                   ­                     
             Backstage, the people laugh                      
Stage director laughs from relief  
Congregation laughs from witty student's last remark

-

Last verse of fulfilling song performed by band
Top section shivers from air conditioner
Big speakers vibrate on last note


Projector screens are drawn
Crowds draw their phones for selfies
Drummer draws his experience on notebook

Spectators give shouts of, "Encore!"
Band members give their farewell
Coliseum gives back lights

Pianist laughs recalling his slip
Volunteers laugh from crowd's reaction  
Fans laugh at guitarist signing for them
our ends are all beginnings
Golden sun sets on the concert house;
The hellish day, it’s now been dowsed.
Asphalt night and onyx skies,
Crowds and crowds of endless size.

Yet it rises on the wooden stage;
Burning, scorching, lunar rage.
Curtains of lapis suspended,
For a show that’s highly splendid.

The bands, they take up their instruments,
Checking function with much diligence.
The azure slides, the crowd’s boisterous,
Let’s send them home filled and joyous!

Strum and strike, music sounds and hikes.
Mystically does it flow, no break or pause.
Number after number, avalanche of applause.
Now they’re screaming and whistling! Yikes!

The night wears on, and sapphires glisten,
In skies of turquoise and warm transition.
Marmalade sunrise, it goes on and on!
But nowhere in the hall is there a yawn.

The crowds recede like biped cattle,
An endless, drunken, random rabble.
The next noon, the hall’s still defiled.
Music echoes in their heads, meanwhile.
annecy May 2014
day one and your sweet lullaby is hanging in the air;
a melodic voice of strings that symphonise even lovers of despair
day two and a slight shard of you glows and gives us below hope,
and read a story of passion - to tick the time that always grows.
day three and all our fingers at all could not wait,
and tap ever so lightly on the walls until cracks fall to slates.
day four and we convince ourselves we're almost halfway there,
the rising sun has no matter but the calender hanging on tapes.
day five, we're halfway, and I crook half a smile-
a smile that knows of all the shivers not further than a mile
day 6 and we count our toes in focus of our minds
that swirl to all the thoughts that overlap yet fill our hearts.
day 7 and it almost seems that we're a second away,
we hurriedly read the lines of the chapter to flip to the next page.
day 8 and all clocks stop, but why doesn't the world?
*because the day must go on
and your voice that i long for,
is no more a sorrow bird.
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