#trumpets - Hello Poetry

I’ve known you a long time, Probably the eviternity. Now I’m as if in a stupid film, Trying to roll up the infinity. Your grimace is clear-cut. Your taunts are plain. Your eyes are as if pictured. You’re near, and they’re far-away. Your hair is at my finger-tips. It’s rigid and rough as strings. Touch them by hand and here's the space. Your hair’s reminds stings. Your silence is my kaiken - A short sword and a precise beat. You despised me by your muteness. How familiar is your cheat! Your firmly closed lips Are like a mask of tragic jesters. Do you hear trumpets are playing afar? A strange love is being buried there.

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Jun 4, 2025

Jun 4, 2025 at 6:14 PM UTC

LoveMelody

Do you hear trumpets are playing afar?

I’ve known you a long time, Probably the eviternity. Now I’m as if in a stupid film, Trying to roll up the infinity. Your grimace is clear-cut. Your taunts are plain. Your eyes are as if pictured. You’re near, and they’re far-away. Your hair is at my finger-tips. It’s rigid and rough as strings. Touch them by hand and here's the space. Your hair’s reminds stings. Your silence is my kaiken - A short sword and a precise beat. You despised me by your muteness. How familiar is your cheat! Your firmly closed lips Are like a mask of tragic jesters. Do you hear trumpets are playing afar? A strange love is being buried there.

20

Corona by Michael R. Burch There was a moment without the sound of trumpets or a shining light, but with only silence and darkness and a cool mist felt more than seen. I was eighteen, my heart pounding wildly within me like a fist. Expectation hung like a cry in the night, and your eyes shone like the corona of a comet. There was an instant . . . without words, but with a deeper communion, as clothing first, then inhibitions fell; liquidly our lips met —feverish, wet— forgotten, the tales of heaven and hell, in the immediacy of our fumbling union . . . when the rest of the world became distant. Then the only light was the moon on the rise, and the only sound, the communion of sighs. With all the understandable gloom, doom and despair over the coronavirus, I was reminded of this early poem of mine that used the term "corona" in a much more positive light. I wrote this poem around age 18 and it has been published by Grassroots Poetry and Poetry Webring. Keywords/Tags: Corona, coronavirus, touch, union, communion, sighs, expectation, unity, trumpets, heart, pounding, *** arousal, union, ecstasy, consummation, consecration, omen, comet, shooting star, talisman, moonrise, moon rising

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Mar 25, 2020

Mar 25, 2020 at 11:44 PM UTC

michael-r-burch

Corona

Corona by Michael R. Burch There was a moment without the sound of trumpets or a shining light, but with only silence and darkness and a cool mist felt more than seen. I was eighteen, my heart pounding wildly within me like a fist. Expectation hung like a cry in the night, and your eyes shone like the corona of a comet. There was an instant . . . without words, but with a deeper communion, as clothing first, then inhibitions fell; liquidly our lips met —feverish, wet— forgotten, the tales of heaven and hell, in the immediacy of our fumbling union . . . when the rest of the world became distant. Then the only light was the moon on the rise, and the only sound, the communion of sighs. With all the understandable gloom, doom and despair over the coronavirus, I was reminded of this early poem of mine that used the term "corona" in a much more positive light. I wrote this poem around age 18 and it has been published by Grassroots Poetry and Poetry Webring. Keywords/Tags: Corona, coronavirus, touch, union, communion, sighs, expectation, unity, trumpets, heart, pounding, *** arousal, union, ecstasy, consummation, consecration, omen, comet, shooting star, talisman, moonrise, moon rising

21

Into the evening dusk The steady beat of the trumpets ring about Next time As I gaze up upon the stars I'll wish for you While they hurry down from the sky Though, I know You'll never be mine.

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Nov 26, 2019

Nov 26, 2019 at 6:49 PM UTC

Erianrose

I'll wish for you

Into the evening dusk The steady beat of the trumpets ring about Next time As I gaze up upon the stars I'll wish for you While they hurry down from the sky Though, I know You'll never be mine.

8

There is one song that makes me think of us dancing Us so close where I was scared that I would step on your toes I know dancing a specific style isn’t easy Hearing it, Just makes me feel safe It brings me back into your arms I truly will say It’s Been a Long, Long Time Listening to all the notes from the trumpets It reminds me of the moment we heard the song This one song makes me miss you

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Jun 16, 2019

Jun 16, 2019 at 11:36 PM UTC

lexisnow23

One Song

There is one song that makes me think of us dancing Us so close where I was scared that I would step on your toes I know dancing a specific style isn’t easy Hearing it, Just makes me feel safe It brings me back into your arms I truly will say It’s Been a Long, Long Time Listening to all the notes from the trumpets It reminds me of the moment we heard the song This one song makes me miss you

11

He sang along to the trumpets in his head, as the radio once did. "I'll always be there for you," He stuttered past his heart. The coldness locking his beath in a frozen cloud of smoke intertwining in the frosted skies, "Then you told me no," His hands quivered in his sleeves where scars left no marks, while his voice was breaking like broken bones. He never finishes his dying lyrics, with the notes dangling in the air, for someone else to pair. And an iris left at the stairs.

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May 8, 2019

May 8, 2019 at 5:49 PM UTC

Erianrose

His Iris

He sang along to the trumpets in his head, as the radio once did. "I'll always be there for you," He stuttered past his heart. The coldness locking his beath in a frozen cloud of smoke intertwining in the frosted skies, "Then you told me no," His hands quivered in his sleeves where scars left no marks, while his voice was breaking like broken bones. He never finishes his dying lyrics, with the notes dangling in the air, for someone else to pair. And an iris left at the stairs.

14

so effulgent the daffodils of brightest shade so effulgent bold trumpets e'er magnificent they grew along the esplanade showing a splendid tonal grade so effulgent

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Mar 2, 2017

Mar 2, 2017 at 6:39 AM UTC

ElizabethSquires

So Effulgent (Rondelet)

so effulgent the daffodils of brightest shade so effulgent bold trumpets e'er magnificent they grew along the esplanade showing a splendid tonal grade so effulgent

7

Whatis it about US? Where do We go from Hear? There's nothing left to sever cause you just ate your ears Their is no 1 willing to deliver the Kind-Ness-sities of Life, of Love, No 1 can stand to give It ^. We can race to the Moon and find Nothing there Yet We litter our flags like worn underwear. Though, My words are Frost Bitten Lakes of Reality Stricken by Tundra and Tobacco leaf Hidden by the Blister of Blizzard Breeze Like locos voting on police seas policies to put them on the streets These words May never reach beyond, My **** n Brain this Cold War We Never win 10 Adam Bombs to Send US and Them a swifty end A ****** Post card to God that says " HA HA Amen" The End

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Nov 12, 2016

Nov 12, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC

TheSethnicity

Us and The End

Whatis it about US? Where do We go from Hear? There's nothing left to sever cause you just ate your ears Their is no 1 willing to deliver the Kind-Ness-sities of Life, of Love, No 1 can stand to give It ^. We can race to the Moon and find Nothing there Yet We litter our flags like worn underwear. Though, My words are Frost Bitten Lakes of Reality Stricken by Tundra and Tobacco leaf Hidden by the Blister of Blizzard Breeze Like locos voting on police seas policies to put them on the streets These words May never reach beyond, My **** n Brain this Cold War We Never win 10 Adam Bombs to Send US and Them a swifty end A ****** Post card to God that says " HA HA Amen" The End

24

All who claim to be number one First planet from the Sun TrumPets blaring smell well done Stroll polls meter thermal agitation while he gathered fever from the *** Undermine with every line It's what works It's been fun The Mercurial Man has come Meanwhile I'm all Berned up in this presidential run.

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Apr 4, 2016

Apr 4, 2016 at 8:47 PM UTC

TheSethnicity

Political Agitation

All who claim to be number one First planet from the Sun TrumPets blaring smell well done Stroll polls meter thermal agitation while he gathered fever from the *** Undermine with every line It's what works It's been fun The Mercurial Man has come Meanwhile I'm all Berned up in this presidential run.

12