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-elixir- Mar 29
As I close my eye the soul awakens
as the travel begins into the unknown
visions of the path ahead.
Waltzing to sonatas of Mozart,
Down the alley of the lake of swans,
Where I float to Tchaikovsky with the
ballerinas, twirling to the rhythm
till my heart get fulfilled.
I have a huge addiction to classical music
Payton Feb 24
The snow drifts were
       quite high, piling up into the
northern sky, burying
      towns and trees and the poor souls who
    had fallen asleep on the grass
and had awoken with shivers as snowflakes
left little kisses on their eyelids.
    Except that, it was never grass. There was never any grass to begin with. There was no grass
      or spring
             or sun
                  or summer
                            or birds.
There was only winter and snow.
And the blinding, white terrain had become both a place of         desolation and
        s a n c t u a r y.
The Aroura Borealis danced like a beautiful blue fire across the night sky. Stars blinked in and out of existence.
And somehow, the halls always remained.
The blue halls.  
             Imagine, if you will, the Colosseum cut into halves and shaped like an elbow macaroni.  Drop it out in the middle of an arctic wasteland and wash it in the blue glow of the northern, night sky.
A bright yellow light poured out of the windows and onto the snow, but no one was ever inside.
Some say it's the doorway to heaven.
Others say it's the gates of hell.
And then there are the strangers. Strangers who wear their lavender, silk headscarves and avoid the rumors of such an exquisite and eclectic piece of architecture.
Others like myself.
"If there is no one inside, then where is the music coming from?" He asked me, his blue eyes shining as blue as the heavenly hues against the midnight clouds.
" The halls will hum if the wind passes through them just so."
We listened to them once more. A low and ancient hum emanated from the structure. It was an old sound that resonated within me-unnerved me.
The mysterious blue halls were not a simple door to some glorious silver city or the passageway to a fiery lake.
      
The halls were the most beautiful and interesting instrument the universe has even known.
"It's the harmonica of the gods!"
Perhaps one of them
dropped it.
Perhaps it was a flaw in design.
Perhaps it was meant to be silent and with one teensy miscalculation, an entire orchestra of notes were born by the wind.
Perhaps it is telling me to tell you that you should look not towards all that makes you perfect, but the imperfections because that is where true beauty rests.
And you are so beautiful.  The kind of beauty that doesn't know it's own beauty. Like when you are sleeping, and the moon washes over your face. I like when you are sleeping, for you are so beautiful, yet so unaware.
This poem was based off of a dream I had years ago. It was written in 2016. You can find an image that looks similar to the structure in the poem here: https://www.lifeinitaly.com/tourism/rome/rome-for-free-ten-best-free-sightseeing-in-rome/
Kenneth Gray Dec 2020
My love, you see makes my heart sing
With musical notes it composes
Cause you do play on my hearts strings
My masterpiece laid before you
upon a bed of roses

I won't waste my precious time
& dance around the truth
For a symphony plays its song in me
And your beauty is my fountain of youth
My wife, you see - I hope you to be
My wife, you see - how lovely

My song, you see? Will never cease
It'll play throughout eternity
For the instruments that lay inside
Will never stop, nor ever die
For the beauty I see, instills in me
An everlasting energy
So hearken unto me, my sweet baby
Cause I'll never leave nor say goodbye

My song, you see? Makes my heart ring
Adoration does your heart bring
My masterpiece that will never cease
Is finally composed
I hope, my dear, that our union is near
& I'll become your king
My wife, you see? I hope you to be
Say yes to me, when I final-ly propose

Now we're here right at the end, my dear
A musical crescendo
As it plays, I do hope you say
That you truly love me and that you'll always stay
This song I feel, is very real
And its not an innuendo
Now on my knee, as you can see
Will you marry me? I plead and pray

Marry me, my wife to be, and let our duet play
Forever and ever entwined together
Mr. and Mrs. Gray
I wanted to write about love in a positive light. All my past poems about love have been dark and negative. So I wanted to change it up. Then I made the connection between love and music and then ran with it. The beat came to me as I was thinking and writing. Hope you all enjoy!
in the night
all by yourself,
with some tunes
in the background
to hit you with the memories,
they all seem very real
you'd thought they
would simply disappear,
but a lot of time
has gone by since
and now here you are
where even the walls have ears,
having heard many stories
over the years
so what's it going to be tonight?
'hold my hand',
says the hour hand to the minute hand
of the wall clock,
tick tock!
as time seems to pause
and you deep dive
into the music,
lyrics and instruments
with their own
ups and downs,
yet in perfect coherence
the harmony taking you places,
feels like a nightcap
for some midnight nostalgia
coming back,
you snap out of it
as the sound waves
fade way
in distance
'well, that was a nice little adventure...
onto the next one!',
your mind goes.
an ode to a little midnight nostalgia induced by great music.
Traci Sims Nov 2020
the edges of my hatred for you had grown ragged
and i realized it was time to file them down,
i picked up the whetstone of contempt and weighed it carefully,
its blunt smoothness removing me to a higher plane,
And i smiled as i placed it on the table,
My pleasure almost obscene
As i slowly dragged the edge of disgust
across its surface, enhancing and restoring the original shine...
I think we've all felt this at one time or another...
Anthony Pierre Aug 2020
To play the Cello
You may pull strings half the time
then push your way through
Learn to play the Cello like Yo Yo Ma
You can bellow
You can mellow
SammyJoe Jun 2020
Oh how I am yearning for your gentle touch
With each tender movement that I love so much
Your supple fingers all over my keys
Is most definitely soothing and puts me at ease
I'm impressed by the way you always know what to play
Each note you instruct my sound trusts and obeys
The acoustic energy which fills up the air
Is the sound of my melodious tunes that we share,
each time the ebony and ivory component of me
awaits an exuberant moment each time you play me.
Maha May 2020
when you press my keys
and pluck my strings
when you compose your song
don't ignore the drum in my chest
she's the conductor anyway.
About Me
karly codr Mar 2020
Sure, I'm not like other girls.
I don't care about
What others think of me.
It really doesn't bother me.
Who cares if they don't like me
Because I choose to be friends
With the people that they don't like.
Just because I don't
Wear super short shorts
Or ripped skinny jeans
Doesn't mean you need to bully me
Every chance you get.
Maybe I don't play
The flute or clarinet.
Maybe those instruments
Don't like me
What do you care
If I play trombone?
Just please.
Don't bully me
All because of the things I do:
The friends I choose,
The music I listen to,
The instrument I play,
The life I lead.
Don't judge me
For who I am,
For who I want to be.
Sure.
I'm different.
But that's okay,
Sometimes it's good
To stand out.
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