The device that sings words from my heart
A plucking action against the strings should I start
From the box of infinity does serenity ring
With happiness and joy my arms to cling

All of the notes that come out to play
Are accurate to the feelings I hope to convey
And as I strum, I’ll keep you in mind
For love and music are poetically entwined.

When I was little
I played the clarinet and
wow it pumped my lungs

I also played the
piano ,,I loved the black
and white push buttons

Each key sang a note
Put them all together and
wow a tune is born

Later in life my
piano teacher became
my every week shrink!

O what a small world
we live in , what's the odds on
that happening..yeap

I played the drums too
Even played in a concert
In school uniform

Music is lovely
It's a big inspiration
Of magical stars

It flows through your veins
Making everything happy
Like a summers day

Pictures on the wall
Hip hop , verntian blinds waltz
Ceiling lights duet

The sun shines warmly
The big moon pings lyrically
The sky never ends

The years pass quickly
Time it waits for no one , I
think it as long hair

I love memories
They pop up unexpected
Making me happy

I don't play any
instruments no more , one
day I just grew up

But I still play a
song it's called poetry and
It's lovely to share

he was a tambourine
cling-cling-cling
competing with the guitar,
strrr...uuummm...
bass,
puuu-waaa...ssh!
and drums
BO...o...Om!

In the orchestra
he was the conductor's baton
swish-swish-swish
drowned out by the oboe
BRRR...Rooo...
cello
teener-neener-teen
violin
Neee-nah­-neee...nahnahnah-nee...

When he went solo
he was a harp
bling-bling-bling-bling...
graceful, delicate
tling-ling-ring-bling...
his strings plucked
pling-pling-pling-pling
by angels

By the music and it's heavenly way into a human's soul, through the harmony of the instruments
The rhythmic sound of music has the power to fill one's heart with a certain feeling that is endless
As all the notes come together, being played accompanied by the soft tune of her voice, it sank into my heart, reflected it, cherishing, wishing in bliss that such beauty, never should end
Coming in a clear pattern which leads me to ask;
Where shall it lead to, or where does this end, alike the night, my
hopes are for this to be undawning, so that it can fill me with joy.
Overflowing with emotions, more than I am able to convey with
words or any fitting expression, my eyes shed tears, of grief.
What is it that may has touched my spirit, is it the sound, or are
the instruments responsible for this sudden heartache ?
Of course, unable to find an answer, I consume the music until the
very last note has been played and the prayer which has been sung
comes to its border, its final point where it has no meaning to continue.

~ Umi

a piano is such a fun instrument
anyone can pick it up quickly
its an instrument that can only be detriment
when the one who plays it is sickly.

the piano plays such a simple sound
each finger telling its own story
it can either bring you down to the ground
or shoot you up into a dream that's purely auditory

i wrote a song for you
the violins used my spine as a bow
the organs shook with the thunder of my voice
the flutes whistled through my bones
the choir stole the breath from my lungs
and my heartbeat keeps time

Those hipster blogs never held your attention,
always more interested in what your idols had to say.
It was still nice when they received some recognition.
Every musician who played the lady well, deserved some shine.
But you are just a casual, and no way could you pick up an instrument.
You say you don't know her too well.
Did you ever scour the web for what is considered the newest indie hit just to learn her better,
were you The American Listener?
You couldn't be.
Critics rarely suited your taste.
You knew what you liked in her,
you didn't need affirmation.
Applying what little you've retained from the musicians you knew,
and the thousands of intricate melodies you've managed to scratch the surface with.
But still, you don't know her.
You don't know her but you love her don't you?
You put a note on your fourth finger without knowing who she was, didn't you?
She made you wanna ***** dance when no one was looking
And sometimes when someone was.
She made you feel like you could sleep again.
She made you feel like whatever you were doing wasn't too bad after all.
You skipped seeing her when you were feeling down,
you are emotional
And didn't need her sad voice to wallow,
you sang it to yourself and forgot
she was living inside you anyway.

Today she crawled inside a book.
All it took was just one look.
The authors demons silenced the ones she has yet to put down on paper.