"diminuendos" poems - Hello Poetry

in choir, we sing a song about the death of children, all latin and deep and dark in my head is a forest with the song always playing, deep and latin and dark imaginings of trees and dead children, this is what I am singing Of course, everyone else is singing crescendos and diminuendos and harmonies and their parts, but I I am singing trees and dead children on second thought this is maybe not the best plan, just as this poem is maybe not the best plan here we go breaking the 4th wall again trees and dead children in choir we sing a song about marriage someone said no the piece is conversational and relaxed i am not relaxed about rejection, regardless of performance markings and instructions in choir there is a workshop, where a man tells us about feeling the line of the song. I understand all about these lines, pulling and pushing and carrying us through the music he says we have to control it, but no one has ever controlled the line of music

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May 20, 2015

May 20, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC

ali-ce

choir

in choir, we sing a song about the death of children, all latin and deep and dark in my head is a forest with the song always playing, deep and latin and dark imaginings of trees and dead children, this is what I am singing Of course, everyone else is singing crescendos and diminuendos and harmonies and their parts, but I I am singing trees and dead children on second thought this is maybe not the best plan, just as this poem is maybe not the best plan here we go breaking the 4th wall again trees and dead children in choir we sing a song about marriage someone said no the piece is conversational and relaxed i am not relaxed about rejection, regardless of performance markings and instructions in choir there is a workshop, where a man tells us about feeling the line of the song. I understand all about these lines, pulling and pushing and carrying us through the music he says we have to control it, but no one has ever controlled the line of music

21

There once was a tune which did but play A melody of heavenly descent Able to mend the broken heart of man Washing desolation of the soul All doubt drowned out and gone And sewing the pieces back again But this song when final notes sound Would take the life of those who heard So no man listened or attempted to endure In fear of the consequences of its curse Until there stepped a broken boy Torn by shame and shattered dreams With nothing to his name he grit his teeth Immersing his mind in the deep waters of this elegant sound Journeying through the crescendos and diminuendos of life itself When final verse of notes did play Opening his eyes, the old man which took the boys place Realized, that he was reborn again And his desolate life was good again Thanks to his decision To endure that song As he died with a smile upon his face

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Dec 15, 2013

Dec 15, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC

mr-e

Swift Song of Endurance

There once was a tune which did but play A melody of heavenly descent Able to mend the broken heart of man Washing desolation of the soul All doubt drowned out and gone And sewing the pieces back again But this song when final notes sound Would take the life of those who heard So no man listened or attempted to endure In fear of the consequences of its curse Until there stepped a broken boy Torn by shame and shattered dreams With nothing to his name he grit his teeth Immersing his mind in the deep waters of this elegant sound Journeying through the crescendos and diminuendos of life itself When final verse of notes did play Opening his eyes, the old man which took the boys place Realized, that he was reborn again And his desolate life was good again Thanks to his decision To endure that song As he died with a smile upon his face

22

She's a star that fades not, even in daylight Sun that shines bright in the pitch of the night an exhilarating adventure on an endless path an antique jewel of tremendous worth. She's the calm after a ferocious storm a mystic place metamorphosed into an affable home a fragrant red rose in the rain with some bit of thorns yet a clear pond carpeted by a ballet of snow white swans She's classical music harmoniously retailed by a violin tectonics whose cosmic shifts made my melancholic existence spin a euphonic crescendo of hope that finally entrapped the cacophonous diminuendos of my despair She's an ice cold drink on a sweltering day, a breath of fresh air... a durable canvas upon which I've drawn life lessons an intricate piece of heaven, she's an artistic impression.

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Apr 22, 2021

Apr 22, 2021 at 12:41 PM UTC

ignatius-hosiana

A Durable Canvas

She's a star that fades not, even in daylight Sun that shines bright in the pitch of the night an exhilarating adventure on an endless path an antique jewel of tremendous worth. She's the calm after a ferocious storm a mystic place metamorphosed into an affable home a fragrant red rose in the rain with some bit of thorns yet a clear pond carpeted by a ballet of snow white swans She's classical music harmoniously retailed by a violin tectonics whose cosmic shifts made my melancholic existence spin a euphonic crescendo of hope that finally entrapped the cacophonous diminuendos of my despair She's an ice cold drink on a sweltering day, a breath of fresh air... a durable canvas upon which I've drawn life lessons an intricate piece of heaven, she's an artistic impression.

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