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 ...

Irina BBota Nov 11

You will look for me when the sun will dry your tear
and passenger lovers will accuse your pain,
when you escape from the world's horror and fear,
when the gentle breeze's music will fall down as rain.
Or not...

You'll look for me when your excuses will be drowned
and your warm, ruby glance ​​will look for an answer,
when my laugh will have a contagious sound,
when you meet me on the street, in the arms of a dancer.
Or not...

You're going to look for me, grumpy and full of hesitation,
when the thighs of the nights will be closer than yesterday,
when I'll not look back for a long time from love's station,
when rhymes will be written on violin accords, in my holiday.
Or not...

You're going to look for me and ask me with your sight
if red rose petals of romance had fallen over my life,
but I will not let the flame burn me anymore, in the night,
even if your memory I will let it go, without a strife.
Or not...

Softly I play
Carefully placing my fingers
All my thoughts drift from reach
As I play and play
On the violin of my brain

My violin is my lifeline. I don't know how I would survive without those beautiful notes
Blois Sep 27

The trill of the violin's note
extends like a grim kiss asking
me to remember. The devil's
music in a photograph. How happy
the trees look amongst the ruins
of the past.

How much space it has traveled,
The light that escaped from us?
Or did it never left the earth
and it is repeating itself.
Us, like ghosts behind the walls.

You know, it's been
a dim colored world, the future
unfolding as I dare to take
another breath. You must be
loving, I hope. Otherwise,
it is madness, what a waste of pain.

Perhaps your many faces
will never leave, but I feel
like I can grin and bare it.
Maybe that's all there is now,
the living memory of yet
another impossible flower.

everly Sep 13

the violin

such a beautiful instrument.
so slim with body.
such a
smooth sound yet at the same time
could produce a feeling of unsettling suspense.

The only thing that could put me to sleep
as a baby.
Weird how I fell asleep to music that was meant to put you on edge.

Now I know how to play and it seems like it's
the only thing in the world that
I can control.

Nathan Duncan Jul 30

There’s the story of the old violin,
Badly beaten and bruised throughout the years,
Viewed as a completely destroyed has-been,
Expected as an assault on the ears.

Worth not even a penny at auction,
Until a musician played a sweet piece,
And touched everyone’s hearts by the action,
Raising its value to the Golden Fleece.

So too does the Great Jesus know your worth,
When you think yourself a poor, broken soul.
Indeed, this is the reason for His birth:
To deliver you from Satan’s bleak hole.

Look through the lens of our dear Savior’s love,
To feel closer to that heaven above.

English sonnet form adapted from "The Touch of the Master's Hand" by Myra Brooks Welch.
Paul Jones May 18

The glue that holds us      together loosens,
like a violin      drowning in water.

13:20 - 18/05/17
State of mind: joy; energetic;

Thoughts: from thinking - about how it only takes a single mistake to destroy something that took a great deal of effort to craft.

Questions: Is it not a good idea to make all the mistakes? Then we may learn not only what is best, but why it is so.

Notes: violins are held together by hide glue, which is soluble in water.
Engeli May 9

Run your fingers on me
as you put your hand around my body
Press every vein - strings I have on me - hard and smooth!
until that sweet sap comes out like pure honey.

Savor the sweetness of my sap
as your body melt with it until
You and I will collide into the space
with our minds blown away into the milky way

Tightly, hold my body then let go of
the love that wakes every living dead man on earth

i miss my violin
Carson Hurley Apr 10

I find something beautifully heartbreaking about the sound of a string quartet playing in a minor key. As the first bow glides across the strings my heart moves in ways unknown to me. I close my eyes and imagine I am a fallen leaf floating atop a crisp flowing stream; the sun shines blissfully, the white clouds sporadically dance in formless waves across the blue sky, and though I am surrounded by passing beauty I feel the inevitable damnation for what approaches. We all know where the mountain stream leads. Ancient rock stands carved by the clawing marks of running water, desperately trying to escape its fall. With each bar played my heart sinks a little further as I know the end approaches, and when it does I find myself falling; at first gracefully, then as quick as it all began, it ends. The end is never quite as beautiful as you first hope it to be, because it is the end, and what is truly beautiful, never really dies.

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