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Cold damp skin,
Midnight clouds deepen within,
raindrops brew unto me as i whip out
a tasteless, tarry, smoky cigar.
Feeling the pain of nights rain,
Train horn rings through my veins and I pierce
my cold lips to the plastic casing of my fresh cigar to
continue keeping me feeling alive.

Opening tunes of musical melodies, bringing me a nostalgic time lapse of pain and pleasure.

Thinking of my life as it passes me by,
a bitter, strong taste of smoke hits my tongue, but i blow out the tar filled air out through my warm mouth.
It continues to rain, when i always feel the pain.

Living life as a misfit, unwanted, unloved and always forgotten.
As my dart vanishes into the air, i look through the dark park across the street and remember last nights nostalgic memories of us dancing together to someone else's house party while the live band plays symphonies and rings unending beats into my hair.
Sap Jan 25
I've never been to a concert before
But I imagine it feels like this
Chaotic, high energy and loud

Despite the distance, it's fun
The energy around you
Makes it so enjoyable

The drum of the music
The vibrations in the air
The addicting sounds
Makes you feel on top of the world

The type of feeling that says,
"I can die happy"
The clarity and serenity in this moment
Makes me feel calm watching you

I wish I could feel this way
After this is over
Maybe I can see you in person
Without this disconnect
Hoping that concerts resume after the pandemic is over. I still have my tickets and I'll be ****** before I let go of them
kevin wright Jun 2020
The darkness
the chuckling
expectation
static on fire

the strings shake
the leather oscillates
the ebony follows the ivory
the saucer vibrates

hands reach for the sky
piggy backs jostle
beams search out
crowds go wild
ears open wide

the voices converge
booming tubes
coma inducing
throaty in unison

musical ‘in same nation’
together in the moment
words are visualised
mindless contact in soulful understanding

the rhythm goes on
the pulse rises
the adoration becomes
I am transformed into my idol
where the microphone started, now used in music concerts
dorian green Dec 2019
It’s not an art museum,
it’s a Waffle House,
and you’re looking sleepy
as you sip your tea.
It’s three a.m. and
I know we still have a few more miles until my house,
but I’m home and you know it.
I’m ripping up a napkin with my
hands as we talk about the concert.
I know I enjoyed it more than you,
and I know I cried on the way home
because I thought you didn’t love me,
but you still came to the concert
even though you didn’t really like the artist,
and now we’re at a Waffle House at three a.m.,
and the garish yellow decor reflects on your skin,
and we’re sweaty and tired,
and I love you in the rare, inexpressible way
that feels most potent
after concerts at Waffle Houses at three a.m.
it was an amanda palmer concert, if you were curious
laveni Apr 2019
I'm thinking of a song
of the blue bird's lullabies when he sings to his babies
as the soft wind accompanies
softly
With sparkling stream gushing,
A meadow of poppies swaying
The tree's branches raise its arms and waves
One cradles the birds
A shuffle 'round in the bushes
The leaves flutter
The little chicks drift away
With a dream above their heads
and a heart filled with love
dedicated to dad
Willow Oct 2018
It’s the end of the night
The last of the chai
With a breeze meant to cool
Our forever burning hearts.

It’s the end of an era
The last of the sorrows
With a moment meant to heal
Our forever burning hearts.

It’s the end of the show
The last of the magic
With a tune to send us off
To seek our forever burning hearts.

It’s the end of the evening
The last of the chai
With the sky as our barrier
We ride our forever burning hearts.
Lynnia Aug 2018
Piano trilling
Drums thrilling
Bass pumps straight through your heart
Guitar screams,
Keys dream,
Vocals piercing like a dart—
Mist shifts
Mood lifts
Hot chills electric down your spine
Crowd yells
Colors swell
Lift your hands, lose your sense of time...
inthewater Apr 2018
standing there in euphoria
my body swaying to the beat of the music

drums so powerful i can feel the beat of the music in my veins
reaching into my soul, feeling every word in every cell of my body

- i close my eyes

and i feel my heart sigh -

your empathy floating into the crowd
dancing through the wind

feelings so raw & real
reverberating throughout the stadium

the artists' voices crack;
emotion overcomes the bravado of performance

- goosebumps rise

this is what it's like to feel alive -
Ryan M Hall Feb 2018
T-shirt soaked in blood,
Throbbing pain in his nostrils,
He needs a doctor.
sunprincess Oct 2017
Once upon a time concerts were my thing
But no more, no more, my love, my love
Now listening to a nightingale sing,
gazing upon moonlight enchanting,
and faraway stars glittering
Is so much better than a strange song
of multiple bullets, zing, zinging
Was a beautiful night to remember in Vegas until..
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