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P for Poems Sep 2014
Its time to rhyme,
my time to shine.
Fame here I come,
dad raise up your thumb.
i hope your watching, i hope your proud,
i can see you clearly standing in that crowd.
daddy your boys grown,
but he still sees you on the phone.
just Listen to me please,
then Ill finally be at ease.
Dad are you watching and listening too?
listen to my song thats all about you.
I didnt finish this..
Ben Walker Aug 2014
Broken chords
Torn heartstrings
Inspiring pain
Numbness

The wail of the electric guitar
The slow pulse of the drums
The monotony of the Bass
The slow bleeding of the singer

The music seeps out
Coalescing
Clashing
Conflicting

I see no end, only music
Music that slows time
Music that surrounds
Music that traps

A shared understanding
An outlook on the universe
A fear
Sadness

Poetic
Ayelle Garcia Jul 2014
It was then uncovered onto my wee young years,
But left out in the cupboard, perhaps out of fears.
All in a snap, it opened like Pandora’s Box
And spread hope and joy that dispelled strife and hell’s fox.

Moving on and out truly have been the best choice
For I have now found a reason to use my voice;
From quiet, a translucent soul’s metamorphosed,
Lo and behold, a phoenix thumps more than supposed.

See how the golden voice transformed this mute maiden,
A voice that has made her life turned and forgiven;
Here now, she sings and strums not for herself no more,
She now sings for better things that matter than score.

Look at how things change when touched by her gentle song,
The rain stops pouring, the bad turns to good along;
To think, it wasn’t other people whom she touched,
Even she herself, pure to the soul, have been changed.

See now, she’ll continue to belt out her good hymn
Until her swan song will be last as it seem;
But forever will her flight to bring goodness be,
So the wind sings with her muses onto the sea.
Guess what's my inspiration for this? My own voice.. when I sing. ^_^
The Things I Wish I Could Be

I wish I could be
one of all instruments;

the singer whose voice
transforms his audience into a choir;

the writer who drops his reader's guard
making a beautiful decimation of every self-made fantasy;

the actor ripe with nominations
whose prestigious Oscar breaks him open before the world;

the photographer who captures moments worth infinite words
while instilling that perfect piercing silence;

the painter of elegant simplicity
or ponderous complexity in every brush and stroke;

the icon strangers seek for reason
looking upon for inspiration;

the husband who gives and comforts
appreciating the angel he's been bestowed;

the father wise and guiding
with enough laughs and smiles to last their whole lives;

the chef and the baker serving only the best
scrumptious entrees and desserts;

the encyclopedia of experience
answering questions obscured from the web;

yet beyond all things
I wish to greet death with a smile
knowing my life, however lived
was worth those years.
There are so many things to dream of being...

— The End —