Just hours since I learned of the great fall my childhood enemy has taken. My heart is shaken in internal squall. Yet still, there is joy which I partake in
Why feel guilt at such a time, so long sought? When others still roam the alleys of night; our nightmare meetings still frequent and fraught. The terror still real in the broad daylight.
I have been, largely, where she has now stood. I have ground teeth on the obloquy. I can’t rejoice now, though I wish I could **** this infernal anisotropy!
And yet anger smolders at the pylons; burning bridges and lashing at icons.
A few still remain but I never believed even this much justice could be had. I've learned late of this but it is still hard to decide how I feel about it. I certainly never expected to feel anything but contempt for this person but I can't help but to remember much of what they probably experienced. It's almost like reliving it and impossible to enjoy without unease.
Missed a step of the stepping stool smacked the sidewalk with my face felt like a blithering fool what happened to my grace
First parched earth of drought now we’re so soaked with rain the birdseed’s begun to sprout dare I holler or complain
I think I need a change of scene boredom cries for the next valley over to smell the new scent of green hear honey bees buzzing clover
They say hearing voices like yours can be soothing and cozy but too much harmony bores and I think a little stink can be rosy
Living life in extremes isn’t for me and isn’t sound maybe it’s about stretching the seams but not to be unbound
I don’t know if balance is my fate Yes, equilibrium has its uses but I like a tune that syncopates and enough spice to excite the juices.
That recent fall where I hit my head reminded me of the delicate balance of life that is so easily taken for granted. Grateful there was no concussion or any internally serious problem. The external wound already healed. I'd been trying to find a new balance in my faith journey and some of my relationships so the co-incidence of the fall and the other stuff finally emerged into this poem.
a single note slips out of the chord as the others cling to safe harmony she turns the soundwaves to crackling lightning she becomes the tension of a catastrophic earthquake she pushes the limits of the dam and threatens to flood she is dissonance and she will hold out before her resolution
i'm doing music theory homework right now and we're talking about non-chord tones. suspensions and anticipations are the ****.