"crescendoed" poems - Hello Poetry

her presence crescendoed a wind strumming sawgrass. rustling into symphony a hot summer melody.

0

Jul 26, 2018

Jul 26, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC

rhfists

garlic.

her presence crescendoed a wind strumming sawgrass. rustling into symphony a hot summer melody.

4

from full to three fourths, to half, to quarter then from darkness back to new all the moon’s phases in mere minutes I’ve seen pictures on the internet a beautiful sight to behold to watch her silvery bleu cheese turn into a reddish cantaloupe perhaps her face is embarrassed to admit its heavenly glow is but the sun’s reflection perhaps she’s forgotten her place in the earth’s natural order she is not less, but equal yin to sun’s yang lost in the moment she changes her mind quickly emerging from earth’s shadow she feels contentment in sun’s warmth once in January’s wee hours so very long ago I spent the night outside as backyard astronomer telescope at the ready awaiting a comet’s promise a party of others crescendoed suspense’s energy and excitement but their numbers quickly waned with the fogging of my telescope lens coldness prevailing over patience I sat alone for hours hanging on to hope in the company of trash cans sitting in silence as solemn sentinel they said it would light one third of the sky ONE THIRD! a sight never to be seen again in lifetimes I waited for its brightness and brilliance until dawn started to peek out over the eastern horizon just then a sparkle of light preceded the rising sun is this it? could this be Kohoutek? it seemed to slowly climb into the morning as it approached and grew bigger I realized it was just an airplane what a rip off what a wasted night I was robbed cruelly cast in the role of Kohoutek’s fool nothing to do now but bring my frozen telescope inside and jump into a nice warm bed will she be kinder? will Luna eclipse that memory? will her heavenly glory be worth the cold and the wait? I sat on the edge of my mattress gathering the covers upon my shoulders should I go? nah maybe next time zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

0

Dec 11, 2011

Dec 11, 2011 at 8:25 PM UTC

del-maximo

Great Expectations

from full to three fourths, to half, to quarter then from darkness back to new all the moon’s phases in mere minutes I’ve seen pictures on the internet a beautiful sight to behold to watch her silvery bleu cheese turn into a reddish cantaloupe perhaps her face is embarrassed to admit its heavenly glow is but the sun’s reflection perhaps she’s forgotten her place in the earth’s natural order she is not less, but equal yin to sun’s yang lost in the moment she changes her mind quickly emerging from earth’s shadow she feels contentment in sun’s warmth once in January’s wee hours so very long ago I spent the night outside as backyard astronomer telescope at the ready awaiting a comet’s promise a party of others crescendoed suspense’s energy and excitement but their numbers quickly waned with the fogging of my telescope lens coldness prevailing over patience I sat alone for hours hanging on to hope in the company of trash cans sitting in silence as solemn sentinel they said it would light one third of the sky ONE THIRD! a sight never to be seen again in lifetimes I waited for its brightness and brilliance until dawn started to peek out over the eastern horizon just then a sparkle of light preceded the rising sun is this it? could this be Kohoutek? it seemed to slowly climb into the morning as it approached and grew bigger I realized it was just an airplane what a rip off what a wasted night I was robbed cruelly cast in the role of Kohoutek’s fool nothing to do now but bring my frozen telescope inside and jump into a nice warm bed will she be kinder? will Luna eclipse that memory? will her heavenly glory be worth the cold and the wait? I sat on the edge of my mattress gathering the covers upon my shoulders should I go? nah maybe next time zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

61

Slithering serpents, midnight chills The shadows twist and bend at will The hall is growing longer still The spinning sky Has heralded I've reached my fill A fool am I Instead of falling on the floor There was a chair beside the door I sat and smiled and begged for more And all seemed well Not knowing what it had in store I could not tell That floating feet beneath the mind Had chosen to be quite unkind And proved immensely hard to find That witching hour Scared that they'd be left behind Or worse, devoured Dragged with screams of desperation Sighs lined with exasperation Could not grasp the intonation Without my feet Doubled over there was elation At last we meet The wails, that proved I was insane, Crescendoed, through my thrashing brain This clearly was not my domain I found my shoes Only the truest friends remain Can't hold my *****

0

May 27, 2010

May 27, 2010 at 10:38 PM UTC

prttybrd

Good Times?

Slithering serpents, midnight chills The shadows twist and bend at will The hall is growing longer still The spinning sky Has heralded I've reached my fill A fool am I Instead of falling on the floor There was a chair beside the door I sat and smiled and begged for more And all seemed well Not knowing what it had in store I could not tell That floating feet beneath the mind Had chosen to be quite unkind And proved immensely hard to find That witching hour Scared that they'd be left behind Or worse, devoured Dragged with screams of desperation Sighs lined with exasperation Could not grasp the intonation Without my feet Doubled over there was elation At last we meet The wails, that proved I was insane, Crescendoed, through my thrashing brain This clearly was not my domain I found my shoes Only the truest friends remain Can't hold my *****

30

The nebulas danced a twisted waltz, leaving a dusting of themselves behind after every step. White painted onto black, and then green, and purple, and all the colors of the rainbow into the sky, and the ballad wailed out its long notes as the song crescendoed into oblivion. Notes jumped up, adding brush strokes of stardust onto the azure of the absent canvas. A celestial battle was beginning, varnishing the open vault with beautifully broken carcasses and fingerprints forever to be seen. Each movement, every fractional breath, leaving a trail of stars and color and galaxies for worlds to gaze upon in wonder. Swords unsheathe and blood is finally drawn, dripping into elliptical formations, and hardening over stars. Asteroids are hurtled through the expanse in a way of symphony, in a way of ballet. The horrifying back and forth blending to something magical, creating an order from chaos, forming patterns in the dark. And suddenly the anthem comes to a ****** and stars are expanding and dissipating, leaving nothing in its place. And instead of new cruel masterpieces being added to what was once there, everything around gets pulled in, into the nothing until nothing becomes everything. The symphony swirls around in circles, adding bits of blackness between the blinding light, and soon the universe is following suit. As the closing notes ring out, the cosmos revolve and whirl and dance, they simply dance to the crestfallen fantasia as it cries out its call for help one final time.

0

May 17, 2015

May 17, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC

maryk

Nebulas

The nebulas danced a twisted waltz, leaving a dusting of themselves behind after every step. White painted onto black, and then green, and purple, and all the colors of the rainbow into the sky, and the ballad wailed out its long notes as the song crescendoed into oblivion. Notes jumped up, adding brush strokes of stardust onto the azure of the absent canvas. A celestial battle was beginning, varnishing the open vault with beautifully broken carcasses and fingerprints forever to be seen. Each movement, every fractional breath, leaving a trail of stars and color and galaxies for worlds to gaze upon in wonder. Swords unsheathe and blood is finally drawn, dripping into elliptical formations, and hardening over stars. Asteroids are hurtled through the expanse in a way of symphony, in a way of ballet. The horrifying back and forth blending to something magical, creating an order from chaos, forming patterns in the dark. And suddenly the anthem comes to a ****** and stars are expanding and dissipating, leaving nothing in its place. And instead of new cruel masterpieces being added to what was once there, everything around gets pulled in, into the nothing until nothing becomes everything. The symphony swirls around in circles, adding bits of blackness between the blinding light, and soon the universe is following suit. As the closing notes ring out, the cosmos revolve and whirl and dance, they simply dance to the crestfallen fantasia as it cries out its call for help one final time.

1

I fell in love with a dancer once, back before I'd come-of-age. I was sitting in the audience with my family, and she was up on-stage along with five other dancers: two couples and her partner. The guys all dressed the same. The girls all dressed the same. And yet this one stood out to me for reasons unexplained. It wasn't just her pretty face - In fact, all three were pretty - but something in the grace she moved with, as if she were the epitome of beauty. They wove in-and-out of each other in a spiraling ballet. I strained to keep my gaze trained on her form, as if she were the pearl in a gypsy's shell game and I had my life-savings riding on the outcome. The steps grew more dramatic. The partners recoiled from each other. The lights grew dim, for a second, then the music crescendoed, and with a grand flourish each couple reunited then froze in place. A look of horror on my face as I realized the loveliest dancer's partner had made a mistake: the hem of her skirt had got caught on the hand that was now on her waist, and a black-leotarded wedge between her legs was on display for however many glorious, grueling, stomach-churning seconds that pose was held for until the lights went out. The performance left me feeling a mix between elated and tragic, and I sat staring into that blackness transfixed, as if by some kind of magic.

0

Jul 8, 2016

Jul 8, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC

JDK

The Dancer

I fell in love with a dancer once, back before I'd come-of-age. I was sitting in the audience with my family, and she was up on-stage along with five other dancers: two couples and her partner. The guys all dressed the same. The girls all dressed the same. And yet this one stood out to me for reasons unexplained. It wasn't just her pretty face - In fact, all three were pretty - but something in the grace she moved with, as if she were the epitome of beauty. They wove in-and-out of each other in a spiraling ballet. I strained to keep my gaze trained on her form, as if she were the pearl in a gypsy's shell game and I had my life-savings riding on the outcome. The steps grew more dramatic. The partners recoiled from each other. The lights grew dim, for a second, then the music crescendoed, and with a grand flourish each couple reunited then froze in place. A look of horror on my face as I realized the loveliest dancer's partner had made a mistake: the hem of her skirt had got caught on the hand that was now on her waist, and a black-leotarded wedge between her legs was on display for however many glorious, grueling, stomach-churning seconds that pose was held for until the lights went out. The performance left me feeling a mix between elated and tragic, and I sat staring into that blackness transfixed, as if by some kind of magic.

28

I was late, Frantically running in hopes I'd make it to the meeting on time. I was distracted, Not worried where I was going, but worried about when I'd get there. I was careless, I stepped on the flower in the crack of the sidewalk I so carefully appreciated in days past. After the meeting, I was released on a lunch break. There, I ran into him. A man of broad appearance, yet short structure. A man from work who had a meeting proceeding lunch. As we talked, time seemed to slip from our grasp. I took the journey back to work on foot, while he operated his motor vehicle and realized: He was late, Frantically driving, swerving in an out of lanes, exceeding speed limits in hopes he'd make it in time. He was distracted, Checking his phone for updates on his current situation, he ceased to notice he was headed into the crosswalk. He was careless, His seconds of fatuity caused a mistake that could never be withdrawn. The smile he carried just moments ago was now contained by the gentle housing of his lips. Creases dawned from the furrow of his brow, caused by the saturated eyes he wore beneath his languid eyelids. As the time between his inhalation crescendoed, mine slowed to a stop. He stole my breath. I was late, Frantically gasping in hopes they'd arrive promply. I was distracted, Not worried about who was coming, but when they'd show. I was careless, Here I lay as the flower, once alive in a dreadful place.

0

Nov 18, 2017

Nov 18, 2017 at 1:02 AM UTC

Wasting-wits

Rush

I was late, Frantically running in hopes I'd make it to the meeting on time. I was distracted, Not worried where I was going, but worried about when I'd get there. I was careless, I stepped on the flower in the crack of the sidewalk I so carefully appreciated in days past. After the meeting, I was released on a lunch break. There, I ran into him. A man of broad appearance, yet short structure. A man from work who had a meeting proceeding lunch. As we talked, time seemed to slip from our grasp. I took the journey back to work on foot, while he operated his motor vehicle and realized: He was late, Frantically driving, swerving in an out of lanes, exceeding speed limits in hopes he'd make it in time. He was distracted, Checking his phone for updates on his current situation, he ceased to notice he was headed into the crosswalk. He was careless, His seconds of fatuity caused a mistake that could never be withdrawn. The smile he carried just moments ago was now contained by the gentle housing of his lips. Creases dawned from the furrow of his brow, caused by the saturated eyes he wore beneath his languid eyelids. As the time between his inhalation crescendoed, mine slowed to a stop. He stole my breath. I was late, Frantically gasping in hopes they'd arrive promply. I was distracted, Not worried about who was coming, but when they'd show. I was careless, Here I lay as the flower, once alive in a dreadful place.

28

I was laying in a small corn field As the sun evanesced over the small hill The sky was filled up with iridescent lights The resplendent lights were all hues purple and pink They danced across the sky as gracefully as a ballerina Then the crickets started chirping, quietly at first but then they crescendoed into a beautiful chorus, like thousands of violinists smoothly flying their bows over the soft strings The lights slowly faded away And the crickets silenced The day was now done And a new had begun

0

Apr 13, 2015

Apr 13, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC

josh-rigotti

Open Skies

I was laying in a small corn field As the sun evanesced over the small hill The sky was filled up with iridescent lights The resplendent lights were all hues purple and pink They danced across the sky as gracefully as a ballerina Then the crickets started chirping, quietly at first but then they crescendoed into a beautiful chorus, like thousands of violinists smoothly flying their bows over the soft strings The lights slowly faded away And the crickets silenced The day was now done And a new had begun

12

Tonight it was like the pressure From the entire week crescendoed Into a single moment. My emotions have been bottled, My fires have been quenched, But tonight I felt as though All of that careful containment Was going to be undone. I was about to unleash All of that fiery passion, Until a bucket of ice water Was poured onto my head, And fifty pounds of Compressed-emotions were Pumped into my soul. There they will stay Until you take them away.

0

Jun 30, 2016

Jun 30, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC

austin-bauer

Compression

Tonight it was like the pressure From the entire week crescendoed Into a single moment. My emotions have been bottled, My fires have been quenched, But tonight I felt as though All of that careful containment Was going to be undone. I was about to unleash All of that fiery passion, Until a bucket of ice water Was poured onto my head, And fifty pounds of Compressed-emotions were Pumped into my soul. There they will stay Until you take them away.

17

In fertile fields Fragile blooms heavy with seed Swaying lucid dreams Coupled with a whispered destiny Do you believe? (Father forgive me for my sins) I listened Pulse quickening to the promise Carried on transparent beams the angelic rush of lesser light Left me sightless Blind witness to the culling Harvest put to flame Only aborted dreams remain (My life ends where yours begins) Fragrant flowers consumed Emotional holocaust of volcanic ash Scorched earth your cordial offering Death is the memory of a smile Shadows pass across your face (Along this fractured path I race) I let your passion burn within me Fury, vengeance and rage Your forever promise ever hellish Echoes in my smoking soul I let the sun set on my anger (Falling far from perfect grace) Let you shackle me with my own actions My guilt a noose to snap my neck You the author of defeat another broken soul for your unholy altar (resurrect this child from this dead end street) I cling to life in the balance Waiting silence welling in the aftermath Crescendoed message resonant let go...let go... Is there oblivion in the release (place my spirit to worship at your feet) Falling away from everything I know The old man shatters within (wash away my every sin) (my life ends where you begin) TL Boehm 05/29/2008

0

Aug 22, 2014

Aug 22, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC

tammy-boehm

Lesser Light

In fertile fields Fragile blooms heavy with seed Swaying lucid dreams Coupled with a whispered destiny Do you believe? (Father forgive me for my sins) I listened Pulse quickening to the promise Carried on transparent beams the angelic rush of lesser light Left me sightless Blind witness to the culling Harvest put to flame Only aborted dreams remain (My life ends where yours begins) Fragrant flowers consumed Emotional holocaust of volcanic ash Scorched earth your cordial offering Death is the memory of a smile Shadows pass across your face (Along this fractured path I race) I let your passion burn within me Fury, vengeance and rage Your forever promise ever hellish Echoes in my smoking soul I let the sun set on my anger (Falling far from perfect grace) Let you shackle me with my own actions My guilt a noose to snap my neck You the author of defeat another broken soul for your unholy altar (resurrect this child from this dead end street) I cling to life in the balance Waiting silence welling in the aftermath Crescendoed message resonant let go...let go... Is there oblivion in the release (place my spirit to worship at your feet) Falling away from everything I know The old man shatters within (wash away my every sin) (my life ends where you begin) TL Boehm 05/29/2008

45

It's been months since I've last been The water took the melody line And destruction became the harmony Leaving dissonance in its wake And trees bent to play that Minor tune Mud rose inch after inch, Outlining the beat of this Soaked symphony It's in duple meter No scratch that, it was in triple, The tempo was about 200 waves per minute The screech of wood scraping Wood had short solos With arpeggios And the sound of sirens and Screaming crescendoed this Soaked symphony The different pitches were so ranged in tonality that people had No chance to save the time To pick up things they need The splash splash splash was the Ostenato in the background Perhaps a pedal tone And the drip drip drip Made anyone who heard the piece shudder so violently They were shivering and Quivering Like an arrow shot from a now Thus the effect of the Soaked symphony Played in the orchestra pit of Lyons Colorado

0

May 26, 2014

May 26, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC

iris-rebry

Lyons

It's been months since I've last been The water took the melody line And destruction became the harmony Leaving dissonance in its wake And trees bent to play that Minor tune Mud rose inch after inch, Outlining the beat of this Soaked symphony It's in duple meter No scratch that, it was in triple, The tempo was about 200 waves per minute The screech of wood scraping Wood had short solos With arpeggios And the sound of sirens and Screaming crescendoed this Soaked symphony The different pitches were so ranged in tonality that people had No chance to save the time To pick up things they need The splash splash splash was the Ostenato in the background Perhaps a pedal tone And the drip drip drip Made anyone who heard the piece shudder so violently They were shivering and Quivering Like an arrow shot from a now Thus the effect of the Soaked symphony Played in the orchestra pit of Lyons Colorado

32

We were play dates shutting down dive bars, biting off more than we could chew. The echoes of our laughter crescendoed over the sea of lonely patrons, a somber feeling that we unfortunately knew. Were we captivated by conversations or had it subconsciously been our eyes all along? Windows to the soul. Holding onto the agonies, that only we would ever truly know. Our rugged exteriors, so easily unraveled with subtlety. Eye contact, rarely, if ever, was it realized so indiscriminately. I intentionally drug my feet when we walked the frostbitten winter streets taking in music and whatever that feeling was, because, we were warned it’s not for us to keep, we’ll always lose it. I trailed behind you in a childlike protest, prolonging the inevitable, of cleaning up yet another self inflicted mess. Hands would wander down the alleyways, our bodies merely in tow, illuminating the darkness, to wrestle with our invisible foe. “You better go. Now. I’m beginning to like you.” Grasping, pulling, unwavering grip. “It’s the way you’d bite my lower lip and push your hips against my hips” as you breathed your afflictions into me, daring me to come home. All too familiar was the suffering that pulsed throughout my veins, displaced residuals of ecstasy, solitude, unrelinquished pain. What happened to the time? We tiptoed through a hazy slew of a hundred halfhearted goodbyes. I always turned back around to steal another glimpse though. I thought you knew why. I thought you knew why, I thought you knew, I thought…

0

Jan 12, 2024

Jan 12, 2024 at 11:32 AM UTC

sincerelyinsincere

A Menagerie of Madness in a Mercury Retrograde

We were play dates shutting down dive bars, biting off more than we could chew. The echoes of our laughter crescendoed over the sea of lonely patrons, a somber feeling that we unfortunately knew. Were we captivated by conversations or had it subconsciously been our eyes all along? Windows to the soul. Holding onto the agonies, that only we would ever truly know. Our rugged exteriors, so easily unraveled with subtlety. Eye contact, rarely, if ever, was it realized so indiscriminately. I intentionally drug my feet when we walked the frostbitten winter streets taking in music and whatever that feeling was, because, we were warned it’s not for us to keep, we’ll always lose it. I trailed behind you in a childlike protest, prolonging the inevitable, of cleaning up yet another self inflicted mess. Hands would wander down the alleyways, our bodies merely in tow, illuminating the darkness, to wrestle with our invisible foe. “You better go. Now. I’m beginning to like you.” Grasping, pulling, unwavering grip. “It’s the way you’d bite my lower lip and push your hips against my hips” as you breathed your afflictions into me, daring me to come home. All too familiar was the suffering that pulsed throughout my veins, displaced residuals of ecstasy, solitude, unrelinquished pain. What happened to the time? We tiptoed through a hazy slew of a hundred halfhearted goodbyes. I always turned back around to steal another glimpse though. I thought you knew why. I thought you knew why, I thought you knew, I thought…

51

something shattered and something born. something unfurling. or something torn. something crescendoed, then something stilled. something hollowed and something filled.

0

Feb 27, 2021

Feb 27, 2021 at 8:30 AM UTC

so-jo-was-here

something.

something shattered and something born. something unfurling. or something torn. something crescendoed, then something stilled. something hollowed and something filled.

8

**I'd sing you a song But we've grown out of tune.** A simple melody we were Basic notes strung together In hope to be something beautiful. But notes turned long And the tempo changed As we crescendoed toward the final measure. **I'd write you a story Except the ending's already here.** We were never a blank page from the start- Already ink stained from the constant rewriting of our chapter. We wrote and we wrote Until Our pens gave out mid sentence one night From all the Scrawled out words Crossed out mistakes And unwritten secrets. **I'd paint you a picture But the colors have run dry.** My palette of reds and blues and greens Have mixed to a murky gray. The paint brush has grown stiff in hand As I stare at the mess I've made. What used to be something wonderful Has become a blur of Bad timing Indecisiveness And "oh wells." Where there used to be a picture Is now just an abstract version of What could have been But Never will be.

0

Aug 8, 2014

Aug 8, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC

lani-foronda

Untitled

**I'd sing you a song But we've grown out of tune.** A simple melody we were Basic notes strung together In hope to be something beautiful. But notes turned long And the tempo changed As we crescendoed toward the final measure. **I'd write you a story Except the ending's already here.** We were never a blank page from the start- Already ink stained from the constant rewriting of our chapter. We wrote and we wrote Until Our pens gave out mid sentence one night From all the Scrawled out words Crossed out mistakes And unwritten secrets. **I'd paint you a picture But the colors have run dry.** My palette of reds and blues and greens Have mixed to a murky gray. The paint brush has grown stiff in hand As I stare at the mess I've made. What used to be something wonderful Has become a blur of Bad timing Indecisiveness And "oh wells." Where there used to be a picture Is now just an abstract version of What could have been But Never will be.

35

the night before the moon grew bold I felt the darkness move in from above in ominous grey opaque it reached for me half asleep, I acquiesced relinquished pillowy clutch splayed sheets like legs for his chatter bones to chill where my sallow is tissue thin his hail knuckles affixed to wet tongue drug me to the floor raking my hollows over and over reeling terrors on sepia filmstrip some scenes repeating some to-fro rewound forward some hovered gory ending: frigid tools cutting to expose my insides stirring entrail with bone tugging ruddy strings to see what sounds they made as I buckled; choked on my leaks I closed my eyes tried to escape body but he projected on my shuttered darting knotting esophagus around the backbone fingerpainting my end on worn flesh walls in char-red spectrum choreographed in perfect harmony with rote fear chanting *this is how you die - alone* I felt it all happening. dangling my happy memoirs with nooses ungraceful reanimating decayed draggy dancing Xs where bright eyes were once upon and wide open every ache and smothered secret chirped by dark faeries too quick to swat but when all the pushed down were given mallets they crescendoed into discordant jarring and in its peak came a piercing shriek: so loud - all stilled to look around I couldn’t tell if the voice was him or me but after terror climaxed the hear ripped and grip released I allowed myself to loosen, breathe headthrob slowly melded into felt beats: limbs and tips all pulsing relief and I could see no one was there but me. wielding expertly book in my own hand thick with tested maps to exquisitely torture every tenuous strand in my fragility

0

Dec 4, 2017

Dec 4, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC

everlastingcherry

racked

the night before the moon grew bold I felt the darkness move in from above in ominous grey opaque it reached for me half asleep, I acquiesced relinquished pillowy clutch splayed sheets like legs for his chatter bones to chill where my sallow is tissue thin his hail knuckles affixed to wet tongue drug me to the floor raking my hollows over and over reeling terrors on sepia filmstrip some scenes repeating some to-fro rewound forward some hovered gory ending: frigid tools cutting to expose my insides stirring entrail with bone tugging ruddy strings to see what sounds they made as I buckled; choked on my leaks I closed my eyes tried to escape body but he projected on my shuttered darting knotting esophagus around the backbone fingerpainting my end on worn flesh walls in char-red spectrum choreographed in perfect harmony with rote fear chanting *this is how you die - alone* I felt it all happening. dangling my happy memoirs with nooses ungraceful reanimating decayed draggy dancing Xs where bright eyes were once upon and wide open every ache and smothered secret chirped by dark faeries too quick to swat but when all the pushed down were given mallets they crescendoed into discordant jarring and in its peak came a piercing shriek: so loud - all stilled to look around I couldn’t tell if the voice was him or me but after terror climaxed the hear ripped and grip released I allowed myself to loosen, breathe headthrob slowly melded into felt beats: limbs and tips all pulsing relief and I could see no one was there but me. wielding expertly book in my own hand thick with tested maps to exquisitely torture every tenuous strand in my fragility

101

he started the banjo man did plinkin' amid the heavy drag of a slow cool bass harmony strung out on a long low note, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard at first or a cat in heat mewing loud in the alley and crescendoed into a full blown attack on my sanity my notions as he plunked away and chorded a falsetto guitar note like eric clapton playing a ukelele drugged out the clanking E called out a G then faster he took me as the bass fought to accompany along an a fast tweedling dee and a C that cried liked birds and the blues fans applauded the folk singers sat agape the rock singers sang Hallejuah and the minstrels swayed so many fast f'ing F's G's B's flats and concordances it was like a thousand harps from heaven turned loose in fast forward and I ****** him **** banjo man that was good

0

Aug 27, 2017

Aug 27, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC

wordvango

**** the banjo man

he started the banjo man did plinkin' amid the heavy drag of a slow cool bass harmony strung out on a long low note, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard at first or a cat in heat mewing loud in the alley and crescendoed into a full blown attack on my sanity my notions as he plunked away and chorded a falsetto guitar note like eric clapton playing a ukelele drugged out the clanking E called out a G then faster he took me as the bass fought to accompany along an a fast tweedling dee and a C that cried liked birds and the blues fans applauded the folk singers sat agape the rock singers sang Hallejuah and the minstrels swayed so many fast f'ing F's G's B's flats and concordances it was like a thousand harps from heaven turned loose in fast forward and I ****** him **** banjo man that was good

22

How long did I travel to walk up to this fortune among distracted people I was somebody How many sleepless nights to climb this wall among forgetful children I've put my fear away I was waiting for you in my veins it crescendoed an ardent music burning from inside and you held on to me like an ultimate hope I could feel it inside in all of my clothes My precious now I’ll fly together with you and this journey will be a song for giving me the love to live My precious now I’ll go along with you to fetch all the most beautiful dreams for those who must go on How long did I travel to walk up to this fortune without any jacket or tie and like this I made it among important blokes who’ve reached for the moon Sometimes I look back to figure out what I’ve been through I was waiting for you in my veins it crescendoed an ardent music burning from inside and you held on to me like an ultimate hope I could feel it inside me in all of my clothes My precious now I’ll fly together with you over the time remaining for our faces let's smile My precious now I’ll go along with you and continue this dream while we're awake then I will be a man freer still My precious now I’ll fly together with you and this journey will be a song for giving me the love to live My precious (I was waiting for you) now I’ll go along with you (in my veins it crescendo-ed an ardent music) to fetch all the most beautiful dreams (burning from inside and you held on to me) for those who must go on (like an ultimate hope I could feel it inside me in all of my clothes)

0

Nov 26, 2019

Nov 26, 2019 at 3:16 PM UTC

caffiend999

Senza giacca e cravatta (without jacket or tie) by Nino D'Angelo & Nino Tortora

How long did I travel to walk up to this fortune among distracted people I was somebody How many sleepless nights to climb this wall among forgetful children I've put my fear away I was waiting for you in my veins it crescendoed an ardent music burning from inside and you held on to me like an ultimate hope I could feel it inside in all of my clothes My precious now I’ll fly together with you and this journey will be a song for giving me the love to live My precious now I’ll go along with you to fetch all the most beautiful dreams for those who must go on How long did I travel to walk up to this fortune without any jacket or tie and like this I made it among important blokes who’ve reached for the moon Sometimes I look back to figure out what I’ve been through I was waiting for you in my veins it crescendoed an ardent music burning from inside and you held on to me like an ultimate hope I could feel it inside me in all of my clothes My precious now I’ll fly together with you over the time remaining for our faces let's smile My precious now I’ll go along with you and continue this dream while we're awake then I will be a man freer still My precious now I’ll fly together with you and this journey will be a song for giving me the love to live My precious (I was waiting for you) now I’ll go along with you (in my veins it crescendo-ed an ardent music) to fetch all the most beautiful dreams (burning from inside and you held on to me) for those who must go on (like an ultimate hope I could feel it inside me in all of my clothes)

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