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dailythoughts Jun 2021
injected a lot of music in me trying to replace your presence
ok okay Feb 2020
It's so much easier to blank it all out
That ******* tune never leaves does it
'Tic toc tic toc therapy wont fix my mind-block'
But as soon as your fears confront you
The music can't get loud enough
And your stuck
Thinking
****
I guess that's love..
Carlos Torres Aug 2018
I listen to Blue when I’m with you
I listen to O’s shudder when you are gone
And share a hope of warmth when I dream,
Of course, of you

I see Red in our house today
Do the Devil’s tears fade my eyes?
Running until there is nothing?
I see but do not recognize you

I can hear, I can see, but where are you?
I have taste, touch, smell, all of it!
But I am in bed with a stranger
I know all of you, or nothing
Another original. Inspired by music, as are most things in my life. If you know any good tunes, shoot them my way. Thank you for reading!
Sally A Bayan Jul 2018
The pile is ever ready
whatever type of music we dig...a ditty,
old songs, contemporary...all in a jiffy,
instruments will be playing
words, vocalizing all feelings
maybe, a song of calm
coming before, or after the storm...
.....
Notes hover above the piled 45s
look closely...find your desired jive,
let's find our favorite tunes
and take turns in  dropping coins,
record is pulled out...shortly, our song will play
hold disruptive elements at bay
because..you and i, we're gonna sway
as a full moon....rises from the bay
.....
allow our feelings to speak
while we're cheek to cheek,
as much as we want, we may croon,
after we dance, maybe we'll swoon
the world is ours...we'll be alright
"there'll be...no more lonely nights!"
.....

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    September 4, 2017
(recapturing memories of the
jukebox...it's a feel good poem,
esp. when paired with Paul McCartney's
  No More Lonely Nights...)
Henry Koskoff Jul 2018
Crimson curtains opening and closing and draping over a cliff say:
          it’s showtime
          (or lights going on and off).

Let’s go through the alphabet and use alliteration:
          Daffy Duck, Porky Pig,
          (or other creatures getting hurt tonight).

I hope and dream that their hopes and dreams have plummeted like their bodies:
          by the wayside
          (or waist-side, or waste-side, or cliffside)—

low tide that surges shores like the seamstress from New Zealand:
          those Kiwis,
          (or feijoas, or passionfruit).

But passion don’t matter to us folks, and neither do kangaroos! We have our own hops:
          Pabst Blue Ribbon draining in sad funnels
          (or Bud Light, a treasure).

Second is the best, but Third is the one with that treasure chest in his stupid palm:
          not even knowing what to do
          (or how to act).

Are you serious, bro? It’s called a shotgun! Shoot it with my key:
          pop the cap to release pent-up pressure
          (or you can just chug normally).

Choo-choo trains chug, Thomas and me, little plastic wheels in hot pursuit:
          I know you can do it
          (or my name’s not Percy),

as I violently consume swizzle sticks before the sepia glow of:
          That’s all, folks!
          (Or is it?)
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