Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
axel 5d
my veins are the strings of a violin
yearning so desperately to be played
by that sharp silver bow
knowing that every stroke is one more scar
every cry is the music that my broken symphony of a body releases as a call
a call for help, a call for safety
every breath is music that my ears crave and
my orchestra has just begun
the drums in my chest begin to play a tune i’m way to familiar with
the cymbals in my head crash with every beat
my legs shake from every vibration
the symphony has started
i reach for my bow so i can begin
i start with a tune thats comfortable
eager to release my energy i play
and with every stroke my symphony slows
the cymbals stop crashing
the drums fade
and the orchestra has come to a stop
i release my bow and look at what i have created
i read the lines on my skin like lines of sheet music
the songs of sadness have stopped and im finally at peace
i know the consequences of being a composer
but my art is so addicting
Lex Condran Apr 15
Death is the sweet sonnet of all of our being
For the books we write, or experience
Nobody remembers all of it
Just whispers and sweeps of sweet melodies
The music, the lymrics and lines
Dancing into our minds and head
The loudest of all of our living, our music
Is our Last hurrah, the last parade and show
Our Death
From the sounds of our passing
May our last tune be carried on forever
Sounding truly into anyone's ears
That cared to hear our Death melodies

April 15 2019
The books of life, all of us connected, like tweets from songbirds
interesting huh
i like music
Hussein Dekmak Dec 2018
Stop thinking small,
Within yourself dwells all the secrets of the universe.
Change in the world is at the very finger tips of your creativity.

Stop thinking small,
Within your heart lies the road map to love,
You hold a sacred mission, a mission of awakening one soul at time.

Stop thinking small,
The eyes of the suffering people are pointing
In your direction, searching for a glimpse of hope.

Stop thinking small,
Do you want to be remembered as just another number?
Let your remembrance ring as an icon of aspiration, a catalyst for change.

Stop thinking small,
Rise up, live up to your role, and
Start leading the orchestra that is the universe.

Hussein Dekmak

Copyright
yes Nov 2018
I was born in the past and now I am molded by it
I am a loner with no rest
A rest with no sound
A sound with no depth of which will be put into an orchestra
Only to be overheard as the deep melodies play out into the air
And make the song play against the sky where we would pest the tide
Mister J Oct 2018
The crackling bonfire sings a lullaby
Singing in sync with the humming wind
The crashing waves joining the symphony
As the moon and stars put up a light show

Cicadas join the fray in chorus
As the palm trees sway in a dance
The space in between us growing closer
Our hearts booming like drumbeats

The sands grow warmer
As our bodies move in closer
My gaze in a hypnotic trance
Fixed upon your sparkling eyes

Your breathing patterns sound erratic
As you pull my head closer to yours
My hands are shaking crazily
As I hold you closer in an embrace

Your breath feels calmingly warm
With a slight scent of peppermint
Mixed with a subtle hint of alcohol
The fragrance makes my head go haywire

Your lips puffed up in anticipation
Wanting and waiting for a sweet sensation
As I lean in with passionate emotions
And seal the deal of this romantic connection

My head feels light and dumbfounded
The nerves of my brain in crazy overload
So this is what kissing feels like
When it’s done by two people madly in love

My hands are sweating buckets
As they sweetly caress yours
I hope you won’t ever notice
How wild my heartbeats have become

Every moment replaying in my mind
Like movie reels vividly coming to life
While I look at your sleeping face
And your body lying on top of mine

God, I pray to hear that soft, whispered breathing
Every morning I wake up and every night I sleep
A soothing lullaby to my dreaming heart
And a concrete reality I want to wake up to

Sunlight slowly rising in the horizon
As the winds run in a different direction
A long kiss greets me good morning
The sweet smile you gave etched in my eyes

I hope that the warmth this night gave us
Would stay in our souls ‘til we’re old and grey
I long to love you 'til I draw my last breath
And in your loving arms I'd rather stay
Hey! Happy Reading!
Hope you like it!

-J
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
"Stop It!" shouted the man
who was dressed in a ***** pin stripe suit,
eye glasses half askew on his nose,
ski-***** haircut sported since his youth.

My face turned blank, shoulders shrugged
not fearing this man's belligerent outburst
because I was used to it;
it was the hundredth time I felt it's sting.

I stood there, patiently and quiet
caressing my double bass violin
my secret seventh grade lover;
she had **** curves and a deep, soothing voice.

I stood there, impatiently and quiet
waiting for Mr. Heidrich to finish the lesson
focused on the third seat violinist
whom played without feeling, again.

I stood there, overbearingly anxious
tapping on the shoulder of my wooden BFF
my rendition of the William Tell Overture
A performance worthy of a Grammy!

The man in the ***** pin stripe suit,
turned and looked at me, scornfully
his half-bald head turned beet red
body shook violently like an earthquake!

The energy released from his gullet
would have made Mount Vesuvius jealous
fiery vocals of curse and rage
would have made the evilest of demons run for cover!

My face turned blank, shoulders shrugged
not fearing this man's belligerent outburst
because I was used to it;
it was the 101st time I felt it's sting.
Children’s voices crying out
and laughing loud and clear
Like an orchestra of sound
for everyone to hear

The bass starts first, parental leave
gives go ahead to play
The marching beat as kids go forth
and out into the day

A trumpet hail for company
is raised from door to door
The flute returns, the oboe too
accompanied by more

The fun begins on strings and swings
go back and forth with speed
All cares and woes are flung away
percussion takes the lead

A drumroll raises up the stakes
a dangerous new move
Chromatic scales, gymnastic fails
the cymbal’s sharp reprove

The roundabout reveals the chorus
repeating the refrain
The highs, the lows and all between
All voices sing again

The seesaw conversation starts
bassoons begin up high
The oboes and an English horn
ascend into the sky

A far away note penetrates
the happy symphony
A lone voice trills with increased speed
and calls out ‘Time for Tea’

As kids go home the conductor
Bows and takes his leave
The park is left in quietness
notes floating in the breeze
Mustapha Olokun Aug 2018
only voices,
and honoring cases
curing the sitting air.

violin in violets color.
shade's golden figure,
under the floral patterns.

and calm winds
that are flutes pipes
and thunders rumble.

earths quake.
damaging and denting
the dark places.

glory and glory,
glory.. and glory,
God is Almighty.

choir flourishes
on humble stand
and sings to a mystery

an ancient anthology
born before the earth,
consuming elements.

wooden craft bending
the airflow, of
pure swamps tune.
Next page