I've never been a huge socializer,
and that's really all,
that people seem to do at football games.
So, why even go?
Well, now that I'm a member of the marching band,
it looks like I have to.
I mean, last night I never really thought that I'd have fun.
I mean, who wants to just go and scream for 3 hours?
I guess I do.
Last night was amazing.
You get to just be yourself,
and you just forget about everything.
You just realize more and more through the game,
that's it's just about having a blast and playing songs,
to keep the team going.
There we were, waving our instruments,
screaming for our team,
and having the time of our lives.
Now, I know for a fact,
that at the end of the season,
I will do anything to go back,
and do it all again...

Instruments
They lay in cases
People get them out
And start to play

They're used to make such a beautiful melody

Instruments
I don't like them
The only sound they make
Is white noise

I hear a song which colors Autumn.
It sings Creation's symphony,
Of days long past, or still to be,
Of what the Earth is to become.

It moves the air and paints the skies.
The waves crash with crescendos,
And with its trumpets, wind does blow.
The cellos play.  The eagle flies.

With violins the flowers bloom.
With piccolos the sparrow calls.
Like cotton snow, the music falls.
The drums begin. The mountains loom.

And when it seems the song will end,
In Winter's white and icy chill,
When all the world is calm and still,
The trumpets will begin again.

Words have power
They can pierce your bones
The right ones devour
Your very soul
Peaceful ones flower
And make you whole

Others cut deep
Leave scars, angry red
Make you lose sleep
As they dance in your head
Your happiness they reap
Until your spirit is dead

The strong message they send
Cannot be erased
They twist and they bend
They demand to be faced
They make ideas blend
Leaving a bad aftertaste

You cannot try to forget
The things you hear
Like a cigarette
They take what you hold dear
They sing a duet
Of shame, grief, and fear

Once it is said
It penetrates the defenses
Causing joy or dread
Sometimes beyond recompenses

Words can move you
Words can ****
Words can pierce through
Words can thrill

Each time you part your lips
The words that stain the air
Can sink the finest ships
Or be an answer to a prayer

Please tell everyone your name, grade,
And what instrument you play.
We’re just going to go over some basics.
You can have a break in ten minutes.
Band, ten, HUT!
HUT!
Come to set!
Attention!
I said come to set!
Heels together, toes apart.
Check your posture!
Guide to your left!
No, your other left!
Your steps are too big.
No, now your steps are too small.
You have to stay at set for three minutes;
If anyone moves, we start again.
Restart the time!
Restart again!
Get your feet in time, freshmen!
Section leaders, I need to see you.  Now.
Your water break is still ten minutes away.
Drum majors, go get more batteries for the met.
First competition guys, good luck!
I don’t care if it’s late, we need to learn the drill.
Someone go run and turn on the field lights!
You’ll thank me later.
First football game, good luck!
Drumline, did I say you could put your instruments down?
Trumpets, get your horns up!  To the press box!
You’ll get it, don’t give up!
Last competition guys, congrats!
Give it your all and don’t look back!
Guard, don’t **** anybody with your flags.
GUARD!
Last football game, congrats!
Somebody please let the bass drums through!
Everybody give me your plumes!
Do NOT set your uniform on the ground!
I expect all of you back next year.
Thank you for giving me your best.
I apologize for when I was at my worst.
I love you guys.

Don't defy the clarinet, its keys are awful sharp.
Don't attempt to struggle 'gainst the plucking of the harp.
Don't strike at the chin-rest of the nimble violin.
Let their sounds ****** you, breathe in deeply and give in.

Let your eyelids flutter as the bass punches away.
Drift off into slumber as the horns start their foray.
Dream of passing pleasantries, and don't mind the bassoons.
Why supply rejoinders when the sounds solicit swoons?

Midnight.

Getting into incredible scenes as the southern US dreams
The color of your soul
Where unshackled, dancing spirits take control
Feet contact to terra firma via tactical movements painting its target
You attack, artistically
I resist no longer
Upon your canvas
I fall

Rome

Where (apparently) all roads lead to
Your heart, the coronary Colosseum.
A stronghold I yearn to hold tight
Under the roar of the crowd
And the loudness of your beats

Harmony

There are psalms that Cadillacs crank
Your viscous soul
At the seat of this purple drank think tank
Sticking to my ribs like backyard barbecue
Santoor mallets tapping my heartstrings
Doing 10 in a 65, side-to-side
Front, back
Letting the melodies ride and glide

Air

Whatever words you'd utter, I'd usurp its presence within the second it leaves your lips.
Floating on cloud 9
To catch your breath with my fingertips
Kinda like I want our lungs to be in a relationship
Or something close to enjoying the heights

Then record our previous accords just before
Midnight.



Ifeanyi N. Okoro II - © 2018