#jamming - Hello Poetry

I run into my room, Desperately escaping. I grab myself some food, Mentally rearranging. I look over at my bedside table, My earbuds sit in their sleek, black case, Awaiting being opened, to take me away. I grab my phantom guitar, Planning to play the night away. I go to my playlist, Selective happiness, Waiting to bless my ears. I click the play button, And I am overcome with, Emotions, I can hear. So I'll play my phantom guitar. Even if I look foolish, who cares? I'll jam out under the stars, Until the string tears. If you'd like to join me, Just play your favorite music, There are plenty of guitars to go around.

0

Dec 4, 2025

Dec 4, 2025 at 5:18 PM UTC

ReeceAE

Phantom Guitars

I run into my room, Desperately escaping. I grab myself some food, Mentally rearranging. I look over at my bedside table, My earbuds sit in their sleek, black case, Awaiting being opened, to take me away. I grab my phantom guitar, Planning to play the night away. I go to my playlist, Selective happiness, Waiting to bless my ears. I click the play button, And I am overcome with, Emotions, I can hear. So I'll play my phantom guitar. Even if I look foolish, who cares? I'll jam out under the stars, Until the string tears. If you'd like to join me, Just play your favorite music, There are plenty of guitars to go around.

22

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.

0

May 25, 2018

May 25, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC

gabrielaaa

Almost

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.

13

ghost are jamming in the witches house See dark visions forced to come out There is a fox in the hen house What'll we do to bring it down? You opened the cage and let the monster out You'r the prey in its mouth Theres a rat in the dog house How will we chase it out? Ghost are jamming in the witches house What was done to bring them out? See em run, see them scream and shout I see it all burning down Time heals all wounds & it also will leave scars Old memories fall like dying leaves Rust metal minds junkyard Minds masked in a maze, couldnt see that far Old memories fall like dying trees Twisted metal minds junkyard Grotesque faces of pure pain Empty hearts of unwarrented rain Souls of the dead called to the purge Can you feel the weight of this world? I see deformites of this life Skulls of the dying, solid is the mind Feel the air passing by Holes in happiness lined in social class Old memories fall like dying leaves We all fall like dying tree The dogs of war are on the prowl Should have escaped, but cant leave now For there is nothing left of my youth Nothing left to hold on to There is a mouse in the walls The hounds of hell are on the loose the dogs of war are on the prowl ?Should have escaped but cant leave now The ghost are jamming in the witches house See the visions forced to come out Pick the locks then break it down Welcome the hardships to this house

0

Apr 30, 2016

Apr 30, 2016 at 5:25 AM UTC

leal-knowone

Creeping Into EerieLand Were The Devil's Den Lies You Find Yourself A Friend

ghost are jamming in the witches house See dark visions forced to come out There is a fox in the hen house What'll we do to bring it down? You opened the cage and let the monster out You'r the prey in its mouth Theres a rat in the dog house How will we chase it out? Ghost are jamming in the witches house What was done to bring them out? See em run, see them scream and shout I see it all burning down Time heals all wounds & it also will leave scars Old memories fall like dying leaves Rust metal minds junkyard Minds masked in a maze, couldnt see that far Old memories fall like dying trees Twisted metal minds junkyard Grotesque faces of pure pain Empty hearts of unwarrented rain Souls of the dead called to the purge Can you feel the weight of this world? I see deformites of this life Skulls of the dying, solid is the mind Feel the air passing by Holes in happiness lined in social class Old memories fall like dying leaves We all fall like dying tree The dogs of war are on the prowl Should have escaped, but cant leave now For there is nothing left of my youth Nothing left to hold on to There is a mouse in the walls The hounds of hell are on the loose the dogs of war are on the prowl ?Should have escaped but cant leave now The ghost are jamming in the witches house See the visions forced to come out Pick the locks then break it down Welcome the hardships to this house

40

' "In the world of mortals there's no greater perfection than music." ~ Impeccable Space Poetess ' Divine music beats bombard my being as non-rippened ripples The surface of my ear drums aches without perfectly harmonious sounds complementing Roses blossom in a quiet garden, some lavish quietudes here, where I've got enough peace and not the right space for a siren's songs enthralling enchantment Searching at the random pace for the most peculiar music ~ thunders in my thoughts! Those undiscovered waves appear as lustrous song lenghts, as limbs of a sound corpus slumbering in the solace of silence and rhythm Deep bits bite my emptiness and this wanton yearning forces me to reflect upon this uncultivated wilderness and what's there to miss at all means ' ***lovable etudes classical chello drifts bansuri flutes*** '

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Aug 9, 2015

Aug 9, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC

ImpeccableSpacePoetess

In the World of Mortals there's No Greater Perfection than Music

' "In the world of mortals there's no greater perfection than music." ~ Impeccable Space Poetess ' Divine music beats bombard my being as non-rippened ripples The surface of my ear drums aches without perfectly harmonious sounds complementing Roses blossom in a quiet garden, some lavish quietudes here, where I've got enough peace and not the right space for a siren's songs enthralling enchantment Searching at the random pace for the most peculiar music ~ thunders in my thoughts! Those undiscovered waves appear as lustrous song lenghts, as limbs of a sound corpus slumbering in the solace of silence and rhythm Deep bits bite my emptiness and this wanton yearning forces me to reflect upon this uncultivated wilderness and what's there to miss at all means ' ***lovable etudes classical chello drifts bansuri flutes*** '

35

Go on, do it. Do the deed. Spread your seed. The children tell stories of when you bleed. Mon cherie, c'est l'appel du vide.

0

Feb 6, 2015

Feb 6, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC

mark-ball

L'appel du vide

Go on, do it. Do the deed. Spread your seed. The children tell stories of when you bleed. Mon cherie, c'est l'appel du vide.

5