The fragrance of love lingers in the air
like the scent of white jasmine
like the fragrance of rain soaked earth
whisked by a summer wind.
It stays day and night in the mind
in thoughts, it spreads
forever the scent of roses
forever a scent in red
It fills the senses like heady ittar
though but a dab on the skin
in what is felt and touched -
makes the senses spin
It lingers forever in the heart
a fragrant melody, one so true
forever it sings and plays
a song of love
Maybe I started to write songs for other girls because I had to find a way to stop making excuses for singing you love songs that you didn’t really know the words to.
But it doesn’t matter anymore.
I had to stop writing because I got tired of having to pretend that I cared about lyrics that didn’t mean a god damn thing to me.
Because when you left, I think rib cage turned into curtains.
But when they’re pulled back all they expose is the empty stage where my heart is supposed to preform on.
So now every time someone tries to sing love songs back to me, I can’t help but untie the rope holding my curtains open…to fall.
Because why would I sing about love if I know you’ll forget the words?
The melancholy sound of a trumpet seeks refuge in the night,
as a snare is brushed gently and cymbal tapped light,
the far away strum of a guitars dreamy soft strings,
playing music that compliments what a lonely voice sings.
© Pagan Paul (17/09/17)
I just wanted to let you all know about the release of my self-published book of poems, "Parking Lot Poems"! Thank you all for your support; this website has been instrumental in shaping me into the poet I am today. If you have ever read a single word or line from one of my works, thank you. If you are interested in purchasing a copy, you can do so here:
Who am I
You must be wondering
An open minded woman
Yet has her own mind of wisdom
A mind filled with vivid imaginations
A mind filled with thoughts of possibilities
I am a romantic Taurus
Who loves water, trees, and wind
A dreamer seeking her Knight in shining armour
Riding his steed down the street
Setting that street on perpetual fire
This woman lives in the teeming
And historical town in her mind
The town, with its multicultural
Great museums and art galleries
I am an easy going woman
Who loves to slow dance
Like an elegant swan
Spreading its wings with high spirits
But more human than any spirit
I am a woman who lives to sing, laugh and shout
Lover of a thousand things
With a tuneful voice and modern rythem
Full of inspiration
Powerful, yet softly gentle
Flowing in the air
I am a woman of bronze
Surrounded by tall crowded trees
A sunny isle with fine, soft, pearly sand
The smells of the wind
Embracing the warm nature greens
I am a woman with life full of love
Full of enthusiasm
Full of hope
Why can't I sing like they do,
the way I'm supposed to?
There are a million melodies
trapped within me,
like golden dust of darkness
blazing with gilded sparks
in the depths of my bones.
I've had enough
of this wretched game,
where I follow the line
leading to the bullseye,
trailing steps bigger than mine
and falling into dusk
with nothing left in me.
It's time for me to open the doors,
for me to shine with a light
as bright as yours.
I can feel it in my chest
as it tries to force its way out,
craving the best
sounds I could make before,
when I was alone.
I need to sing like they do,
to sing like I'm supposed to.
I know within
that it's what I'm fated to do,
to consecrate this ground
with music only I can make.