#conductor
Orchestratedly killing children, what kind of child were you?
Shoot shoot with no feeling, see how you’ll have no future, sucker…
You think that you’ve marred their grave,
But the child’s cloud escapes…
You’re not even a part of the picture -
Only a void for the paintings that will stay to show how great they are and how sick you were…
You’ve got no place, no room, no virtue,
So more fool you…
You’re not a conductor of any orchestra -
You’re just a fraying lace in an old man’s shoe
Yet look how young you are - or could have been…
I know you’re not one for feeling anything but you’ve got to admit; the deafening din of children’s wailing light and death’s scythe keeping you secretly afraid all night is gonna be hard to remove…
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 5:32 AM UTC
at the very beginning
a bass horn hummed from the left ear
merging with the shrieking violin from the right
climbed to the mountaintop
then howling and roaring
together they rushed down and swept across the wilderness
soon they were scooped up and held in midair
waiting for the conducting baton
to drop
Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 5:17 PM UTC
The orchestra awaits in the pit;
Waiting for their cue.
Waiting for the lights.
The hierarchy of the symphony ready’s their instruments.
The concertmaster prepares the string section.
The principle trombone and trumpet
Rallies the brass section.
The flute looks over the woodwinds.
All these parts and pieces brought together
To make beautiful music;
Music that pierces the soul,
Soothes the turbulent mind,
And brings sophistication
To the chaotic mind.
Yet there is a man
Who stands before the assembly.
He does not play strings.
He does not play brass.
He does not play woodwind.
He stands before the assembly with wand in hand
With his back facing an eager audience.
For he has the most important job of all.
The orchestra would remain an assembly
Of beautiful noise with no direction
Without that magic wand.
This man directs the noise
To blend and flow
To make sense to our ears.
He is the conductor,
And he plays the orchestra.
May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 4:38 PM UTC
Violin in my ribs
Guitar in my heart
Drums in my mind
Yet all out of sync
Guess I need a perfect conductor
But who will be brave enough
To tame such a disordered body?
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 2:19 PM UTC
_A twitch of the toes,
A pop of the lips,
A flick of an eyelid:
I watch as electricity sleeps._
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 5:20 PM UTC
The wind plays a symphony that only the silent can hear.
Close your eyes, put your mind at peace, and open you heart to the sound.
Let the breeze fill your lungs and lift you higher.
Hear the rustle of the leaves high above and the gusts whistling a tune.
Windchimes add percussion while the hum of the earth beneath your feet casts a steady beating of your heart.
Breathe in, breathe out becomes the harmony.
And the wind roars the melody.
You are the conductor, the one in control.
You guide the song through its journey and take a victorious bow.
And when you stand and look out again and wonder why it has to go,
Remember that there will always been another symphony storm
-t.s.
Oct 31, 2019
Oct 31, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC
Though I worry myself to pain,
And the wind unrelenting blows.
There is solace in the sight of an oncoming train.
Sometimes I wonder if the conductor knows.
Every evening at half past five
I board with no real destination.
His gentle voice asking for my ticket keeps me alive.
Though my daily absences keep raising questions.
This band around my finger has grown too tight.
He, acting less as a husband, more as a victor. Nailing my shoes to the floor so I can't leave at night.
Still my mind always drifts back to my train conductor.
Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC
Nothing left in this old town
I felt I didn't have much choice
I jumped on board a west bound freight
It was there I heard the voice.....
"Boy, this here is my car"
"You keep the rules, and you'll be fine"
"I don't know you, you don't know me"
"Boy, this car is mine"
I squinted in the darkness
I tried to focus on the sound
That voice there in the boxcar
As rough as any I had found
I asked him where he came from
He spoke but wasn't clear
Everywhere and Nowhere
And right now from right here
Now boy, Keep your distance
Keep quiet, leave me be
I don't like conversation
You keep to you, and I to me
Just then, the train car shifted
That there's the final shunt
You're safe now boy inside this car
The rail men stopped their hunt
He said that there shunting noise
Is the starting of a song
The train soon will start moving
Everyone is moving on
While the cars are stagnant
You know, not moving, sitting still
The rail men all go hunting
For us hobo's , if you will
That shunting sound is heaven
It means we are onto who knows where
And frankly boy, you know deep down
It really isn't fair
I asked him what he meant by that
He said, I've said enough
As time goes by, you sound some smart
You'll pick up on this stuff
The silence then took over
He was sleeping, so did I
He was snoring quite contently
I couldn't find sleep, I wonder why?
About an hour later
He sparked a match and smoke
And again from in the darkness
The hobo, well, he spoke
Boy, you are a new one
You could have killed me where I lay
But, boy, I trust your scared some
So, I guess I'm safe today
T'was a time a decade back
Got knifed, real hard and deep
Taken by another jumper
While I tried to have a sleep
Hadn't make that choice before
Most times I'm here alone
But, it was cold and wintry like
And I threw this boy a bone
See, it's dangerous riding rail cars
We are all on here to hide
And sometimes, well then, most times
This is not a pleasant ride
You know you asked my name back there
I ain't heard it for so long
They call me "The Conductor"
I'd give my name but, I'd be wrong
Life out here ain't easy
Your head is on a swivel
Listen boy, this is the truth
Not just some hobo drivel
Even though we're many
You are still alone out here
Some you think are friends one day
Would **** you for a pint of beer
So, keep your distance, bide your time
The choice is up to you
Stay out here and roll the dice
And do what you must do
I listened as he rambled
Sorted words that I could keep
Then as sudden as he started
He stopped, and went to sleep
Do I ride the rails a no one?
Lose my name inside my mind?
Or do I travel 'cross the country?
To see just what it is I'd find
I'm lost with no direction
Staying stagnant, that I know
But, the life of The Conductor
Is that where I want to go
I heard the old man snoring
I huddled up and grabbed my stuff
Between the lines from The Conductor
I guess I wasn't all that tough
Back home there is a fellow
The blues man is his name
He reminds me of this fellow
They could be one and the same
Next time I hear the blues man
Or hear the whistle of a train
I'll think of The Conductor
The man who has no name
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 5:10 PM UTC
If the beat of the drum
Is the rolling thunder,
And the lull of the flute
Is cheap defense,
How does the music keep me
Asleep inside?
Perhaps the conductor
Is a wicked protector.
And the orchestra summons
The wayward ******
So look me in the eye
And sing the songs.
My own civil war was right all along.
Because only on the inside,
War is song.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
a wand of disappearances
operate in our very
midst
who is the conductor
of its vanishing
gist?
where once our fellow
poets did pleasantly
reside
now the wicked wand
has eradicated their
bide
numerous blank spaces
symbolize the conductor's
vice
employing a wand which
has emptied the
rice
black the hour
black the day
a black instrument
whisking them all too
suddenly away
a wand so dark
of intent
wanting to wane
our writers tent
the subtracting conductor
will be planning future
disappearances
so be mindful of its
wand's unsolicited
clearances
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
Without you, God, I am nothing.
Music without a conductor.
With you, God, we’re everything.
A beautiful symphony.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
I don’t have anything against them flailing about,
With their commanding stare and whisper shouts,
Don’t get me wrong it’s not an easy job,
To keep all in time with a clean kebab,
And I don’t think I could keep a civil look when an oboe’s flat.
I think that’s when my brain would crack,
Just as when you break a twig,
First you feel the wood bend and give,
Then Crack! Like stubbing your toe,
Sudden pain and yelling, I’ve thrown my shoe at the tone deaf Oboe
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
Waiting in the train station and to my surprise
The train conductor's smoking, doesn't care at all
He walks right over and asks,
"What're you waiting for? Get on"
I'm sorry I'm not riding the train today
I am waiting for me sister, she's on the next train
I haven't seen her for the longest time
And I heard she bought a cat
His eyes grew large like an atom bomb
My words caused him a panic, I don’t know why
Sausage fingers now points in my direction
And this is what he said,
"Right you little rat, I got a bone to pick
Now you getting on that train because I told you too
And if you don't I will break your nose
Then I'll steal all your cash"
His meaty aroma flooded my nasal duct
Just to make him leave I walked into the train
The whistle blew, the wheels spun on
Now it's my sister's turn
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
Well after the conductor yelled,
“All aboard,” and well after all
of the tickets were punched;
a group of people,
who didn’t know one another
were all headed north.
Little hands turned through pages
while larger ones were cupping
at the window, trying to get
a better view of the night sky.
A farmers pasture flashed by,
but went unnoticed in the dark.
A few seats down slouched a frail
grey haired lady, with her hands
clasped around a small bouquet
of daises. And across the aisle,
towered a man who’s hands
could hold a dozen eggs.
Alone in the corner was a red
dressed woman; doing her best
to not spill her coffee. She watched
the children next to her fall
into an innocent sleep.
And ripples echoed in her fingers.
She thought about how strange it is
that everyone on a train
can be going the same direction
but have different destinations.
And then she thought about
how tired the conductor had looked.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC