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a feature
of drama
now in
her proposal
my palpable
fave of
penetrable cave
as starlet's
life in
director of
dream she
dance her
tassel to
this soundtrack
of ska
with a
street presence
A concetion
gab 吉 May 2018
You are my "almost"
an "almost" that I'll never have,
but still hoping for you to
come back.
I guess,
I'll just be stucked,
with our favorite songs;
and soundtracks
that we had jammed —
together.
I was wrong.
This won't last...
forever.
clever May 2018
you are the soundtrack to my life.
your breath is the rhythm to my walk.
your heartbeat is my refrain.
JAC Jun 2017
There is an inherent musicality
To your bare humanity
A soundtrack to what makes you human
There's a rhythm to your movements
There's harmony in your breathing
There are chords in your voice
There's​ a deliberate delicacy to your touch
As if you care deeply about an instrument
There's a tempo to the way you love
And notes in your laugh
And there are so, so many kinds of music
In your solo act.
Terra May 2017
I travel trough the heavy rain
I sit lonesome on a lonely train
I play blues
These days are grey,  these nights  are blue
my mind keeps coming back to you
I play the blues

I travel with desire
Past houses lit on fire
I play jazz
Windows lit by sundown
My train-seat old and rundown
I play jazz

Rainbow roads in colored blurr
Pretty little towns I'm sure
I play swing
Past mirror waves and open sky
My stomach tingles, wonder why I
Play swing

***** feet on ***** train
Skin so white I see my veins
I play punk
Impatient taps and flickering lights
Soon the day will turn to night
I play punk

Head in the clouds, mind at ease
Longing for the morning breeze
I play Pink Floyd
Memories hanging from branches
Passengers sharing brief glances
I play Pink Floyd

I'm coming home, I'm on my way, but I travel still...
I travel not by force... yet not by will
Music of choise as soundtrack to the silent film
beyond the windowsill
I wrote this as a little homage to my lonesome travels. I fittingly wrote it on a train during sundown, but it's about my memories as a homeless teenager with no idea what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go, just that I wanted to go somewhere and do something. It's also about that longing for someone I hadn't yet met, that empty space reserved for someone you know you'll eventuelly meet. Luckily, this time I was on my way home to that someone.
I imagine this poem as lyrics to a jazzy tune. Maybe I'll get to try it out one day. I'm no great singer, but I'm reserving space for a trumpet solo in there somewhere.
Ariel Hill Mar 2017
I found you/ a musical note
in a pond full of static
we made a soundtrack
that no one ever heard
drowned out by sirens
a gap that just widens
you were my unique find
I'd do anything for you
but stay
Hannah Feb 2017
You're the soundtrack of my life

You're my favourite songs
Songs that make me dance around with joy
Feeling happy and elated
Alive in the moment without a past
Or a thought of any future

You're the sad slow songs
They give me feeling and emotion
Making me cry every so often
Giving me pain in the middle of my chest
But making me stronger all the same

You're the really good songs
Ones where I appreciate all the effort
The band worked hard to make their music
I like what they have done
The words and sounds at one

You're all the bad songs
Songs with lyrics making me cringe
Annoying in the simplest way
In a way that makes the song less bad
A way that makes it that much better

You're songs with meaningful lyrics
I listen very attentively
Intrigued at all the life in the words
Imagining the thoughts of the writer
Knowing it's all right and true

You're the soundtrack of my life
To my boyfriend
19.11.16
Chris Neilson Jan 2017
On the morning of the day before yesterday
a new year did commence
some say same **** different year
with no redeeming recompense

On the afternoon of the day before yesterday
many had broken their resolutions
so much for a dry January
drinking in alcohol institutions

On the night of the day before yesterday
by the light of a creeping crescent moon
I resolved to the soundtrack of 2017
to dance to my own tune
Miss Clofullia Nov 2016
You're listening to random radio stations,
on your way home,
Thinking this could be
the soundtrack of your day to day life..

A little bit of Cohen
and
some Cigarettes after ***
would easily do the trick.

You're just another unknown genius,
waiting to be discovered - an original copy of the "real deal".

Your parents must be very proud!
You have that look.. you know what I mean?
THAT look.

The ones surrounding you are nothing more than
Extras in your daily 7 o'clock show,
filmed in front of a live audience.

Your big break is just around the corner,
hiding in some bushes
and you must really feel smart right now,
with your old and wise attitude,
thinking 'bout the planet and
all that ****,
having the impression that you changed
something in this world,
on your way back from work..
something else than this rusty game
of useless words,
that the rest of your family doesn't really care about.
Your one man show is about to be moved in the better slot
and you'll finally get to stick your face on a Snickers' bar campaign.

"You're not you when you're happy!"

You'll get off soon.
Remember to smile and wave.
Remember to forget.
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