Simra Sadaf May 9
her voice
like a finely tuned violin,
you let in sink in,
and touch every string
of your soul.
E over c2 May 7
i play words like my violin
smoothly at times but harsh and rough when i forget how to play
forget what words to use
how my bow slides across
how too much vibrato can make it all sound fake
how hyperbole can make it all sound fake
motifs scattered throughout
taint the sound the words
with familiarity with nuance
with you my dear
there is no hyperbole
no vibrato needed
no need for such accenting
for you make my words
my sound smooth as chocolate from the get go


for i never understood what it meant for a kiss to be sweet,
until my lips met yours.
for i never understood what it meant for a person to be warm,
until my arms wrapped around you.
you were warm to me
accepted me even though every inch of you was scared to
was telling you to back down
and i cannot thank you enough for that

you say that your pieces are scattered
the truth is, so are mine
so lets let two perspectives persist and permit
a love that leaves lies behind and lets lips be
so that broken pieces on the floor can not be looked at as flaws
but as scores
as scars
of a past that continues to be made
only now, every atom of me wants that past to be made with you
but unfortunately my past is cursed. so, lets stay in the present.  
so that maybe our puzzle pieces when put together
present a picture

of us

in our own winter wonderland where the world can stop.
and we can love.
for i've discovered in all of our broken pieces.
that
I love you.
a journey of discovery
Lyda M May 5
and your music was the sweetest
to my ears and to my heart

but your soul was the darkest
when people drift apart

minds spiralling down to madness
like an eternal roundabout

and maybe in the end
that's who we really are

people with minds unbound
spoken in the language of
music over black and white notes
as someone who love(d) you, I might not have gone. But as someone who plays music as well, I did. and what a job well done. what beautiful music. you were wonderful. and I'm sorry I will have to write this here instead of saying it to you up front.
zb May 1
my heart is a violin
with too many strings

play my heartstrings
let your fingers pull my emotions
rest your hand on the back of my neck
i cannot make anything beautiful on my own
but sweetheart you can make me sing so softly

hold me close
dear i'll always love you
feel my skin, polished-smooth
warm under your hands
and know i'm yours

calm my frazzled strings
soothe my worn-out pegs,
drawn tighter and tighter and tighter
straining so deeply to hold
the strings in place
let me cling to you
let me take solace and peace
for but a few moments

my heart is a violin with too many strings,
played by too many people
my strings have been drawn taught
my body has grown tired
my music has grown dull
but with your gentle hands
encompassing the surface of my heart
i can learn to trust again
i can learn to sing again
and sweetheart i can sing so sweetly
for you
smokey basil Apr 5
i let your hand go, softly,

and

we parted our
separate ways.

the tracing in the sand
was washed away by
the foamy edges
of the gentle waves.

the driftwood
was swept out by
the misty tide
and off the shore

away from the
salty coast,
into the eternal,
pristine sea.

the violin solo was
carried by the breeze
and the tubas dove
deeper into their octave

the final breath of your name
touched my tongue,
and it was our
final goodbye.
Dakota L Apr 2
Classical music makes life feel so important
Terry Collett Mar 29
The violin is in your hand.
It is lifeless. Just a collection
of substances and shape
and style and craftsmanship.

You place one end under
your chin. Pluck a string.

You tighten to get in key
known by ear. You draw
the bow across and finger
the strings. The recital
is later. Beethoven violin
sonatas. Practice time.

You close your eyes.
You know it by heart.

She will be there watching
and listening. Her eyes
all over you. Over you
like last night. Last night
yesternight betwixt thy lips.

You practice on and on.
You pause. That last
passage haunts. You play
it over and over. Enough.

You put away the instrument
and close the case. You
close your eyes and picture
her lips gently on your face.
Jack Bennett Feb 22
A violin player
In the street
Playing for food
My ice cream melts
Into the cracks
To feed the ants
That conspire below
lei Feb 17
how do i not love thee
whose eyes are glowing
akin to the first sliver of warm light
in the early morning?

how do i not love thee
whose voice and movements
are crisper than the sound of violins
and more graceful than a dove’s flight?

how do i not love thee
whose heart gleams with the hope
of betterment, of happiness,
of safety and a burning passion?

how do i not love thee
when even the moon looks down upon
the silhouette of apollo
reincarnated?

how do i not love thee
when cupid’s arrow has struck so deep
that the sole reason troclaim an ineffable love?



if there’s a reason to dream, to laugh, to live and love,
then there is a reason for me.
(it is thee.)
thank you for being mine, lsm
hazem al jaber Nov 2017
Player's violin ...

a beautiful sweet player ...
playing on her violin ...
to get out her feelings ...
while she hugging this violin ...
not just gives it a hug ...
it's as a part of her ...
lives within her ...
and playing a great note ...
as her fingers dancing ...
on this violin ...
playing so poetic ...
within every beat ...

a sweet player's violin ..
plays with it feelings ...
on that violin ...
to get the best note ...
as much this violin needs ...
as much she feels ...
to get a happiness ...
while she shares  ...
her feelings ...
on the violin ...
that it's needs ...
from a great lady ...
whom knows ...
how to play ...
and to get a great note ...
from this violin ...

a poetic player's violin ...
hugging her sadly violin ...
to her chest ...
between her arms ...
to give it a happiness ..
and to take off all it sadness ...
to give our world ...
the joy ...
and a happiness ...
that we all miss to hear ...

how great you are ...
my sweet beautiful lady ...
my player's violin ...

play more ...
dance within your fingers ...
and give us ...
the love that we need to feel ...



hazem al ...
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