your song didn't need lyrics
I heard everything
in your breath
against my neck
cigarettes
your hands insisting
a duet

Duet, Minor Key
by Michael R. Burch

Without the drama of cymbals
or the fanfare and snares of drums,
I present my case
stripped of its fine veneer:
Behold, thy instrument.

Play, for the night is long.

Keywords/Tags: Duet, minor, key, cymbals, symbols, drums, fanfare, snares, instrument, play, ***, night, long, strip, ****, naked

"Demons sing,
Throughout the horrid night,
Hoping to cause,
A little fright…"

I don't know why,
But the terrors so good.
We stay here and lie,
Maybe more then we should…

Sirens at night,
Waiting just like we would,
Temptation and ire,
That burns you like firewood.

Maybe we're monsters,
Maybe we're good,
Maybe we're humans,
Just under a hood.

Yet at the end of the day,
We simply saaayyyy,

"There ain't much about us,
That you need to know.
We simply stay here,
Waiting to go.
All that we do,
Is **** fools like you.
For our songs are temptation,
And you humans love damnation!
And just like a lamb,
To the pitiful slaughter,
Your blood will soon run,
Like red crimson water!"

You strumming your guitar,
While I play my Irish whistle,
A beautiful and strange duet,
Filling the air,
Turning heads here and there,
For now,
What could I have to regret?

Then, another speaks,
Stops the music,
Reality hits,
Then it come creeping back,
The anxiety,
The worry,
Out of nowhere;
RING!

Walking swiftly away,
For some reason,
Glancing back,
Seeing you looking back at me,
Then I turn, run a bit,
Hide in the crowd,
Fearing that if I look back,
You'll catch up,
Asking me if it were true;
If I've been thinking about you...

- Jay M
April 12th, 2019

Music—the score of victories,
triumphant cymbals of success
of orchestrated histories,
to regal anthems to impress.

Music—scribbled notes to recall,
arranged in sync with beating hearts
resounding with clarion call,
of overtures meaning imparts.

Music—felt across Earth’s measure,
in staccato revelation
that accompanies God’s treasure—
the symphony of creation.

Music—God’s whistle in the wind,
that piano voice, in us He set
the atonal key, blessed or sinned,
music is our divine duet.

He had green fingers,
My heart was an arid patch,
Tenderly he planted love seeds in it.
He watered it with care,
Nurtured it with patience,
Tended the delicate shoots,
Sang duets with the fragile leaves,
Until my heart blossomed into a beautiful garden of heavenly, colourful love buds,
Which bloomed and diffused an exotic fragrance of love and happiness.
3/2/2019