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Up in the backwoods
Of Michigan, lives the
Traveling man name of Tim.
He's in a band, with a million fans, and I think it is a sin, that he's in better shape than I am, and I'm ******* younger than him.
Ever since he got bit by that possum, he will never be the same again.
I had a great conversation with Traveling Man the other day, he's a great dude, and this ode practically wrote itself. Long may he live
Jenie Aug 23
unfiltered interviews displaying
for all to see

alluring youth offered drive dedication
exposed their introspective sensitivity
kindness obsessions analyzed
their deepest anxieties

fans of their own with
-ia-ending disorders aplenty to bear
their days shared or stolen
entrusted archives auctioned

camera-ready smiles
inner balance thumbed up to the tilt
album sales to arena wealth
ardor of a musician sold

role models pinned to the walls
hunted market gods
Work in progress, I've been reading and watching videos of young artists, mostly musicians, and there seem to be common themes: mental health issues, impact of social media on self confidence, deification and fetish tendencies of some fans. Feels like their talents and mental health are being sold by some banking on people's need to chase dreams
I'm obsessed with these two boys, that I'll never meet.
I love to hear them make noise, I think it's very sweet. 
They changed my life for the good, and I can never thank them.
I'd hug them if I could, say all the things I've been wanting to say to 'em. 
I listen to them everyday, no matter in what way it is.
It could be in my mind as I lay, relaxing in pure bliss. 
They're in my head and they won't leave, it's getting to be painful, knowing we'll never meet.
Their songs, are telling me to believe, but it's getting hard, I'm feeling defeat...
When I wrote, in like 2018, it was about my favorite music duo, Bars and Melody. They saved my life with their music. They will forever be in my heart.
Amy Perry Jun 23
Once you fall in love with
An artist, an empath,
A writer, a musician,
A feeler, a healer,
A giver, a lover,
There is no going back
To an ordinary life.
The Lyricist:

Let my words be the voice
Of your silent melody
Allow me to translate
Your tune into words
So that comprehension
Will be easy to master.

~

The Musician:

Let my song drift
Into your poetry
Allow me to bring
Your words to life
So that your work
Will be enhanced.

~

The Duet:

We're a pair of artists
Collaborating to make
Something bigger than
Who we are as people.
I am thinking of writing a play about a lyricist and a musician working together to create songs for a musical. It'll be a love story. Wouldn't that be interesting?
Soloy Jun 6
I strung the movements
with my heart.
With shrieks of desperate madness
to escape my self enfetter.

Paper beats rock but
My notes bounce back off blunt
damp stonewalls,
cornering me off.
I'm trapped.
My music goes nowhere,
An eternity's echo
Rings of despair

I model after myself,
each movement, each blow
A craft to my hole.

Where I yearn to see the open sky
Where my music can soar and fly

Just let it go,
Uncage it,
Let it flow.
I'm sleepy af when I wrote this
KNOWER Jun 4
she ruffles thru' the written rows,
line by line, she sifts thru' prose
intent on catching with her nose,
the timeless scents of dainty rose

her eyes affixed to gems in ink,
the precious words adeptly linked
by (her) lover's mind that ever thinks
of her thru' night without sleep's wink

in penned down verse she does find peace
amidst the words of (her) lover's piece
she is the muse that brings him bliss,
and with these words he sends his kiss
"Why don't you be the artist, and make me out of clay?...
Why don't you be the writer, and decide the words I'll say?... "
- Ellie Goulding

I hope you enjoy(ed)!... ☺️

may L💜VE, L🌹FE, and L🌞GHT always be with you... 🥰

God bless ☺️
She’s trying to fly with
crippled wings and join
her dreams together with
guitar strings and when
she sings she sings her
songs of how she tries
to get along with the long
harsh road she’s been
wandering on as she tries
to fly with crippled wings
and join her dreams together
with guitar strings

-
by Aleksander Mielnikow
I was inspired to write this poem after "This Town Is Killing Me" by Caitlyn Smith kept replaying in my head. Make sure to check it out!

And if you liked this piece, check out my profile for older works, and follow me so you don't miss out on any new ones.
Ambika Jois Mar 26
What does lockdown mean for me?
I'm housebound anyway.
People think I'm always free,
I'm now that 'at home' mom everyday.

This is also what they thought,
When I told them I'm a singer.
'If you don't own charttoppers,
You're just a failure.' is what lingered.

I found it shameful and difficult,
Broke down several times,
I couldn't find my own identity,
Searching for myself felt like a crime.

41 weeks and 2 days I carried her,
My little angel, the apple of my eye,
I'm now learning a basic fact -
- A lifetime flies faster than light.

So fast, I don't know what day it is,
I'm living each day by the hour.
Before I know it, it's bedtime again..
What exactly is within my power?

When the birds stretch their wings,
At the crack of a quiet dawn.
The time I was raised to wake and listen,
To the Tanpura, the sound of Om.

This is my one true power,
Whether they believe it or not.
A lockdown may not define it,
I'm a musician, a mom, not a robot.

These clear blue skies at spring,
Came again after a barren season.
I'm housebound and learning again,
Another chance to live it right is my reason.
A little piece of my reality during the darned COVID season.
Lyda M Sourne Mar 11
He was a boy
With ginger curls
And a smile to his name

His eyes twinkled with mirth
At everything I say

With music as a bond
We share ourselves

Even if only for a moment
He was able to bring out
The love of music
From inside my shell
There. I wrote something about him.
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