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Kai Sep 2014
I was told to never fall in love with a writer.
But, a writer that recites his work with his hands is ten times more dangerous.
Eventually, you'll find yourself immensely fascinated by the veins that can play keys oh-so softly; soft enough to cradle an infant,
or even the aggressive way he fills your entire childhood bedroom with such impossible power and passion
in a single chord.
But, these hands are dangerous.
Just as they can hammer into the piano, his hands can rip through your heart. His hands will never just play your body simply black and white, oh no.
His hands will destroy you; each and every muscle movement will have you on edge and by the time the decrescendo drains the flood in your mind, it will be too late.
Never fall in love, period.
Anna Vigue Sep 2014
It doesn’t matter what I type
As long as I type words
It doesn’t faze me what the hype
As long as I infer
The lyrics although musical
Just bounce inside my head
They always start with music
But the  words come out instead
It does have a tune.
Deneka Raquel Jul 2014
I miss the notes that,
Completed the symphonies that followed your love.
How the earth shifted beneath my feet,
As if the its plates,
Also felt the tremors of your kisses.

The orchestra of the universe,
Beckoned at the curl of your lips.
The stars motivated into melodic choreography,
To celebrate your happiness.

That was once upon a time.
That was when our love was alive.
When that love died,
Ominous echoes followed.
My heart bellowed.
Living became as labored as breathing.
Dissonance grew with thunder
Air gathering weight.
Every part of me felt absence,
As if your love suddenly became extinct,
And mines an endangered species,
On the brink of a similar faith.

I remember the glory days.
I remember how beautiful skies were
before you tainted them with,
Splinters of your shattered promises.
Promises to love me forever,
When you gave your love to someone else.

How the fallen petals once fresh,
Wilted, scowling,
They will know beauty no more.

How angry jagged peaks,
Loom over gentle rolling hills.
Can you feel it?
Because I can feel.
I can't feel every sensation,
Every impression,
Cutting amorphously into
Every dream I've ever dreamt
Erasing every inch of hope I've ever felt.
How cruel love dismembers its victims?

The damask surface of my heart,
flickers threats of gossamer hints,
as song birds chant their heavenly hims.
Memories of our sins.

I want to forget you.
But how can I forget you,
When you've left such an impression on me.
Euphonious melodies,
Imprinted into my my being.
Taking so much of me when you left,
You left me no choice but to move on,
To the sound of my doom.

What could I do?

There was a time when of our love,
I used to boast,
How can I now,
With these missing notes?
Yea, average emotional roller coaster poem.
Gladys P May 2014
At nightfall, in the midst of silence,
The sky turned,
Into a sheet of gray,
And droplets of rain,
Pleasantly came sprinkling down,
Making tranquil musical sounds,
Appearing to entertain.

Landing upon an adorned bed of roses,
In hues of reds, yellows,
Pinks and whites,
Lightly spreading their delicate petals,
As crystalline beads,
Gently dripped onto the ground,
In a soft melody.
Craig Harrison Apr 2014
I ask you, why can't life be like a movie
Why can't we
Love like a romance
laugh like a comedy
and fight like an action
Live like a leading star
die like a supporting role
Sing like a musical
Travel like an adventure
be remembered like a documentary

So I ask why can't life be like a movie
Some of you may notice this sounds familiar, that is because I created a poem similar to this called Life like a movie, but while I was reading it back I wanted to make a few changes so the previous version as been deleted for this remake.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it, if you have any questions please ask them and I will try to answer them a.s.a.p.


If you would like to follow my on Twitter, search for
@Craigus987
Jazmine Moore Apr 2014
Eve
My heart was a secret garden and the walls surrounding it were very high.
Reluctantly, I allowed you to knock every wall down..
and with grace, I breathed in every promise you made and believed with great certainty that this time would be my last time.
To love you was no challenge, but loving you from this new found distance is a feeling much too common.
For your kiss feels like home; and my darling, I am homesick.
Satsuki Mar 2014
You're the top
You're my summer breeze
You're my darling, if you please
And baby if I'm the bottom,
You're the top
You're my tap shoes
You cure my blues
And baby if I'm the bottom,
You're the top
You're romance
You put me in a trance
And baby if I'm the bottom,
You're the top
Basically my own version of You're the Top from the musical Anything goes.

— The End —