sounds pleasing and
I wouldn't want to die
not just yet
sounds so

sleeping forever underneath
lush beds,
over sound
mermaids all around

Death began at my first cry//

Your voice envelops me
  Drowns me
   Blinds me
     Confines me
Your whisper is fog
I feel it echo
   In my bones
    In my blood
     In my head
I gasp for air
   For light
Until the silence comes

Gabriella Jan 15

I can make my instrument sing,
But not as well as others can bring.
I feel as if I'm soaring above a crowd
Above the entire orchestra,
I can hear myself floating above everyone else.
But yet, there is one who soars higher than me.
I move with the sounds
But they move better
More naturally.
My pitches are in tune,
I can hear them over everything
Until theirs is overpowering mine
Lifting me from my seat
Into a place that is unknown.
My tones struggle to sound
But they falter away.
Like the ending of
Movements in a symphony.

Comparison will ruin you.
Jewel Yuzon Jan 14

In the heart of us are a set of bagpipes
that blows the beat of a drum
but is described as a hollow organ,
like one in a church that echoes deep whalesong
in the midst of a funeral.
Our mom had rules for visiting the newly departed, lest their spirits attach to ours:
Take home no food, or the dead will hunger.
Wash your clothes, or the dead will wear your skin.
Don’t go straight home, or the dead will follow.
Starved and naked, we wandered
through IKEA and nearby coffee shops
to deposit our lost and beloved friend in a final resting place
before heading home
our empty and quiet home.

Michael Duff Jan 9

The sounds not heard are the most precious we can understand; a heart breaking, a glare thrown, a kiss blown.

They place us in very different feelings and sometimes leave us beaten, and battered... but also in others hopeful.

We wouldn't be who we are without that past and it helps us move forward to better sounds; the sigh of contentment, and the giggle of new love.

just because it's bad doesn't mean it has to be that way forever. love comes and goes, enjoy the good and learn from the tough times, take none of it for granted.

I'm here
in a
bell and
weather does
tell how
stellar ink
now well
ring in
a jar
where once
a snake
on the
loose whistle
her for
supper that
surely invert
the gridiron

Polka Jan 4

What sound did your brain make,
When you read this?
Was it the sound of you?
Was it the sound of someone else?
Was it the sound of someone you fear?
Or was it the sound of someone you love?

Let me think about that.
AH! I have my answer!
It is:
all of the above.

Blois Dec 2017

Us, being strangers as we are,
it is expected that we remain separated
by the unkindness of our eyes
when we cannot comprehend
nor grasp, how could we, that we both
like black coffee. In that sense,
we are only separated by the sound
of our voices taking the first step
and that, my dear, is the greatest
and the shortest distance
between two hearts that could be one
but will probably not.

SoulaZoul Dec 2017

I feel strangled by the sound
Of the wind and the breeze
Cause I feel deep inside
I can never be as free
To roam the Earth
Over the land
Through the sky
And the sea
Wouldn't it be lucky
If I could only breathe
A part of what's inside me
Knows I'll never be
A part of something bigger
That of which I'll never see
For all the ways I've tried
To open up my eyes
It gets a little difficult
When there's no air inside.

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