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

I'm trading tender for splendor:
The loss of sweat, not-so-tragic.
I'll build up my blisters for whispers:
Spells recited in habit.
Dollars can buy what I seek:
It doesn't take many to have it.
The strange, the odd, the mystique:
The flowers painted by rabbits.
The song played by the beach:
The harp without hands to grab it.
Nature has cradled my needs:
The order created by savage.
We pay for all of these things:
Even chance has stated this adage.
I know this from my own beliefs:
The months living as addict.
They blurred, and flew on the wings:
My "needs" growing emphatic.
The basement was surely my feet:
My mind, alone in the attic.
The empty, the holes, the replete:
Filled, trading my money for magic.

‘Cause I looked up at you as
Glory shout through my ears
And lightning struck my chest.
You sat,
Entirely unaware of the shock you
Sent through me.
I battled against every tear
Forming in the wells of my eyes
As they simply stopped,
Staring at you.
Quietly. You remained, unnoticing.
Breath barely found my lips.
You wrote.
Glasses hanging from your face
Glancing the words and they rolled
On and on.
And on and on
I gazed at you.
The heaving thud of my heart
Tearing tremors through my fingertips
And they tried to convey
You.
Poorly. As if knowing their inadequacy.
Even if written in blood upon the page
Only my veins
Would know what that lightening was like.
Slowly.
Only they have felt every drop you have
Changed in me.

Let's not beat around the bush; getting drunk is fun.
However, that all depends on why you’re doing so.
Last week I drank to try and make brain going numb,
In hopes that Tesco Value lager would turn my heart to stone.
Love can hurt like hell when it’s trapped behind your eyes,
Out of fear that someone’s narrative may not involve you.
You swallow the truth, lock your jaw, make sure your tongue is tied.
The words stay stuck upon your lips - no guts to come to bloom
Love isn’t ******* Disney and it sure as hell isn’t perfect;
But when the smoke clears all I see is you, is you, is you.
And falling into pieces a thousand times would so be worth it;
If that's what it takes for a happy ending, then that is what I'll do.
     My love for you is imperfect, flawed; it has to stay concealed.
     My love for you is imperfect, sure - but ******* hell *it's real.

Pitter patter shoes on the pavement

A young bird watching falls in love with the sound of

Soles on the ground

Souls on the ground

Shoe laces knotted neatly

Scuff marks on the toe

The young girl sits below she

Cries she lifts her eyes she falls in love with the sound of

Music ringing

The bird, singing

Feathers float slowly down they rest on the tendrils of hair

The tendrils of hair float around her eyes they frame her face

She is alone she is

She is She is

Who is she?

She is giving up the bird is getting up

The bird fell in love with the way her sadness caused

Eyes to avert caused rain to fall pitter patter on the ground

The bird falls the bird falls

Gleaming black eyes peer at the girl

Peer past the scuffed toe the knotted laces the knobby knees

The downcast face the tear stains the braces

Broken wing broken wing

The bird is Broken but it’s little heart flutters

Never has anything looked so beautiful as

The sun forming a halo round the face of an angel

Never has anything been so beautiful as

The tears that are falling for He and He Alone

Poetry to me is the expression of one’s own heartbeat.
Just as its rhythmic presence fluctuates or subsides at different intervals of our lives.
Poetry is universally recognized by all.
There is an immediate touch
Melancholy
Yesterday
Tomorrow
Skulking somewhere in the deep
The voices echo
Through my head
The voices are foreign
I cant quite make out the sound
But you are here I know
Please kiss my love
I say to you
Kiss the thought I have so new
In the shadow of the dawn
There was the touch
That everyone looks toward
The light...

My twilight poetry

Debbie

Breathe in the sound
Beautifully rhythmic
Music for my eyes
Gaze upon a joyous energy
Touching your spirit
The passion you hold
Satiates my hollow dwelling