"instrumentals" poems
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream
Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend
Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity
So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place
Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors
Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores
Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials
They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes
Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience
Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known
Without even being shown paragraphs of stone
Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack
Felonious acts we never back down
Til my soul drown in the core of the earth
Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth
At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards
Saying the same thang got dang got dang
Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain
On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo
Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh
From the Sunny to bees that make the honey
Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey
Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I
unleashes
Rap game mafiaso so so better back back
Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go!
Here we go!
With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam
Got **** once again it's time to slam
Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp
That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp
Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl
Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl
Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow
Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow
black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin'
So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett
like Wilson
Flows in unison formation
of words
Herds a violent surge
feel the purge
We high rising no disguisin'
knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
Knowing you has been a song,
familiar silence,
as we become aware of existence,
but no form of friendship,
complete empty instrumentals,
the start of us.
beautiful vocals set in,
in anticipation of what's to come,
as I fell for your smile,
only then do lyrics form,
as our story unfolds,
our song isn't finished,
but it's so distorted,
so empty now.
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 11:50 AM UTC
*I have all this music in my head,
With no knowledge on how to get it out of my mind.*
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 7:32 PM UTC
See it's easy to rap about
The ghetto
When u don't live in ghetto
We got blacks raps
Takin us back
And got whites makin fun
Of our slacks
You see it's apart of plan
To destroy society
Without the use of hands
Instead words laid over instrumentals
Once the voice is planted
It can become influential
Or detrimental
See thirty eight years ago
The ghetto was bout surviving police
Brutality and violence
And uprising of black unison
But it wasn't until ****** crack ******* from our beloved government
Entered the scene it became
A reality nightmare
Far from King 's
dream pushed away from teams
*** we wanted to be the next dope king
Pin enjoyin sin punishing pur women men and children
But we're helping the establishment
With the destruction of our race
We can't even look each other in the face
Yet we cry its about race
Yes socially mentality and economically
But in actuality the hood locality
Is where most of the hatred be
I see my folks walk around
Looking at me
Like I'm the reason behind slavery
And they mugg me
But don't mug the p-o-l-i-c-e
Feel me so duck the ghetto
The pimps the hoes
The dope the jewels the clothes
Its nothing but holes
In a womb far from being patched up
Wake up and let's abrupt
And stop letting stereotypes corrupt
Our mindset
We natural born warriors
our existence is fearful
Enough towards them
So let this marinate to ya temple
And stop being so love struck
By the
**** luxury of the ghetto
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 8:44 PM UTC
Eyes like panes of glass
Cut me to pieces
With every fist full of hair and moan for more
I think my favorite song is just a track of our heavy breathing
And the instrumentals are the sound of sweat pooling on your chest
Trace my lips with your finger tips
Look me in the eye
Cut me like glass
Our bodies together is all I ask
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
There is an abundance of knowledge
That I’ve grown to know about life,
Such as how some green teas,
Brew at a temperature of one hundred and fifty degrees,
Or the way that hues of paint,
Swirl upon a canvas to appear delicate and quaint.
And lastly how my friendships are like little lights,
Illuminating the darkest corners of my life, bright,
And though my brain holds knowledge of,
All that I have mentioned above,
That that I knew not outweighs that of which I do,
Such as the way I feel about you,
Or how the hours spent with you feel so few,
And how every moment spent brings something wonderful and new,
I never knew.
I never knew love,
That my heart could race so fast,
To the melody of the piano instrumentals we listened to last,
Or that I would love the way your fingers run through my hair,
Or how you hold my hand and kiss my fingers tenderly with care,
I did not know.
I did not know love,
That the aroma of Amazni tea
Would bring countless thoughts of you and me,
And that butterflies to my surprise,
Would flutter within every time I’m gazing in your eyes,
Perhaps it is the way you say the word Chicago,
Or you have an appreciation for flakes of snow,
Maybe it’s the way you draw invisible lines on my skin,
I hope you know that this feeling makes me feel beautiful within,
And though I know of this now,
I did not know,
I did not know love,
That I had been waiting twenty five days shy of seven thousand-three hundred and seventy four,
To meet the one who would make me feel something I’ve never felt before.
He who understands of my fears,
And is comforting when I’m at the point of tears,
Maybe it is his entrepreneur set mind,
Or the way our fingers are entwined,
Maybe it is the way we write our own poetry with our mouths,
Or the way we are both not from the South.
It could be any of these,
But I do know that,
I do know love that,
I’ve learned much during these thirty one days,
And as I waltz and frolic through this endless maze,
The only thought I have of which is meaningful,
(Is this)
“I did not know that love could be this beautiful.“
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
People are a lot like songs
there are songs that you love the first time but they grow old very fast
and you no longer care to hear them
there are songs that drive you insane,
that seem to be everywhere
and get stuck in your head so easily
no matter how much you want them gone
there are songs you can't get enough of
but you only listen to them when you're sad
because they are not the happiest of songs
there are songs everyone else loves
that you yourself don't enjoy quite as much
and there are songs you love
that no one else cares for
there are songs you feel touching your heart
that you want to learn the words to
but they lose their magic once you know
the words that were hidden
amongst the loud instrumentals
there are songs from long ago
that show up now and then
that you regard fondly and think
back to simpler times
there are songs that make you feel rebellious
ready to overthrow an unjust tyrant
and there are songs that leave you
with a strange sense of purpose
and spark inspiration and hope within you
there are songs with lyrics
profound and wise
and others with lyrics
that do not hold the least bit of sense
I personally hope that you will be a song
that never gets old
that I know each and every word to
I hope you are a song that brings happiness
whenever you come on the radio
and for a moment,
you make me forget everything
and I lose myself in your melody
I hope you are a song that is my first choice
every time I go to karaoke
because you just feel so right
and i hope you are a song
that sounds better to me
the longer I listen
that leaves me thoroughly satisfied
as the last note plays out
and the music fades to silence
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
my dream is to have my song of a hundred thousand people them knowing every lyric to every song I ever made my dream is to be in the studio every Friday every Saturday morning is that have the hottest beats every day my dream still have my song free style over by hundreds of rappers my dream is to have equity my dream is to get paid something I love to do my dream is to hide away instrumentals outside those four walls tis silence my dream expand the minds of the youth now to the next four generations my dream is to be a part of this culture remembered an acclaimed at some of the legends I see before me everyday my dream the city never acknowledges it is to be one of those that opens the door or walk through that door a pioneer if you will my dream is something has to be something if the world pursues to stop me if you know me is f****** I was told don't let no one stop your music so your headphones on put on your favorite song turn off all your lights and drift into your zone for my dream is a dream of anybody that's an artist simply that was work in the gallery and better my craft everyday love you music
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
releasing this album has to be the hardest thing I have ever done
always wanted to but shame suppressed
hundreds of files, hundreds of tears wept
my heart painted across instrumentals and melodies
nervous, will people get me?
get the metaphors, get the meaning
purpose, will I let me?
embark on a journey toward the sun
leave everything I hated having to become
shed a few layers, re-introduce me
climbing to the top, sorry excuse me
Dec 24, 2022
Dec 24, 2022 at 1:10 PM UTC
I got the blues like James cotton and the crew
The blues in my hands
Like the crew and James c.o.t.t.o.n
Not like k.r.a.f.t
More like zatarains r.i.c.e
...A lonely mans meal
The blues
For crying out loud my ol lady left me
Every 5 minutes for 9 minutes
I cry without tears coming down my eyes
So no need for a bucket
My cheeks are dry
I cry through my trumpet
My cheeks are cramping
I cry so often and so long
The way in which my feet tap you can't tell that it's a sad song
I thought I would've Lost harmony when Monica left
But my harmonica explains the exchange of breaths going through my chest
Yet, blues explains my mood
On stage with my dudes
Audience in-tune with my news
The blues
I got the blues
Can you relate?
Did she escape?
No wonder why you're rapping and sagging
Bluffing and bragging
And your not huffing; puffing , and nagging
To get a case of the blues the love between the two once upon a time had to be true
I got the blues
And it's hard and complicated
I am strung like the guitar
...Observation!
There's no contemplation
Nor hesitation
I abandon my mentals
And create instrumentals
I got the blues
And to prove I have the bruise
Heartache and headaches
Allow me to groove
The blues, skies, teals, turquoises
No lies, tears nor voices
Real blues like fats, Percy , Ruth, king, archibald "stack-a-lee", hank Williams "nobody's lonesome for me"
The blues
My aching trombones
Drug free, but my bass is laced
I let my fingers rake
The blues
She don't know what she had
Hope that I can put down my flask
when I move on to jazz
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:49 AM UTC
There's a combination of words stuck at the back of my tongue.
As i diligent search a way to self express, i discover
that my vocal chords have already given up.
I´m numb in my actions and paralized in my speech.
A blend of fear and past dissappointments
are causing a knot in my stomach
and arousing a battlefield between
the words on my lips and the words of my thoughts.
Swallowing through feelings and sentences confining my emotional vocabulary,
i continue to move myself with the words left and
the right intentions in the back of my head.
Drenched in fake smiles and fake laughters.
Wounded but still whole. I move on.
Till they become scars on the invisible side of my soul.
I know that there ain't no way that
you´ll ever dance to the rythm of my heartbeat.
So i'll continue to move myself in life on instrumentals.
Alone. Silently. Broken. Unspoken.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
Discover me by the shallow of the stream
Where the wind blows as I dwell in a dream
In the heart of wonder I shall delight to find
Pieces of myself through peace of mind
Instrumentals sound as the worries decay
Dawn breaks free as the vibrant leaves sway
Wrens sing cheerfully as though only for me
Emerald for my touch and breath for poetry
Won't think on the doubt that invades my soul
Nor the strife that builds until it overflows
New chances emerge and I can rightly see
I can't always be for others, I can only be
Will depart from here yet I will return fast
Where uneasiness is a thing of the past
Simply need relief from an enduring fight
Solitude worships a tranquil state of mind
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
Hi! This is about music so scroll on if you don't care.
I'm working on my debut album, Drama Kween, and decided to share some of the mini songs that will be in between subject changes throughout the album. They'll have simple instrumentals later on, but for right now are acapella. Give 'em a listen?
To Me
it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/to-me
lyrics:
"Sometimes I talk to myself, sometimes I sing to myself.
Sometimes I talk about talking and singing to myself,
sometimes I sing about singing and talking to myself.
Sometimes I talk and sing about talking and singing about singing and talking to myself (to myself)."
The Hippie Song
it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/the-hippie-song
lyrics:
"No one says lice and no one says gay, but your modesty and life you better throw it away,
'cause in a world where the media
replaces scrapbooks
and hearts,
if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart
if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart
if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart
if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart
tear me apart
t-t-t-tear me apart!"
Goodbye
it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/goodbye
lyrics:
"I'm so tired, I'm so tired.
Of feeling I have to cry.
I just wanna lay with you in my bedroom and watch the days go by.
But I'm so tired, tired of feeling shy.
And counting how many tears make up for a year.
Is this hello or goodbye?
Is this hello or goodbye?
I wanna know if this is the last time.
Is this hello or goodbye?
Well it's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye.
I was tired of the games and the pain and the lies so baby it's goodbye.
It's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye.
So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life.
I'm so tired, I'm so tired.
Not gonna waste my time!
So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life."
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC
Human nature
Yea I remember was a young fool
Back In grade school
I was breaking all the rules
I wanted to be the next drug mule
And be like the homies the block
Packing a glock
Mean muggin the cops
My bigger homie had a top drop
He wAs all about his paper
Slangin them rocks
But I didn't see the price
Of the picture of his adventure
Fool got into some serious ****
Cuz of jealousy
Body lit like a Christmas tree
Struck the whole community
Never know who's ya real enemy
Is
Now he resting in peace
Much loveto the homie
Cuz it's human nature
Nature nature nature
Its hu hu hu man nature nature nature nature
Its human nature naw I don't hate ya
But since you was ***** I had to **** ya
You buztas is played out
I'm tryna get my cash lay out
Blueprints for my lil Prince
My son ain't growing soft **
So gotta make this bank roll
Keep it swole and watch these scandalous hoes and niggeros
As I contemplate eating milk and Oreos
This ain't no soap opera just a scenario
Reppin htown third ward
My barrio in the studio
With wattz whippin up dope instrumentals **** criminals
Baby we living the high life
Sticking the game
Without the need of a knife
Married to game but I got a side wife
As I heat up bread like a baker
Cuz it's human nature
Hu hu hu human nature nature nature nature nature
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 10:56 AM UTC
i've been awake since 6am
i'm running on two and a half hours of sleep
i've been on the road since 7am
and i'm writing this at 1pm
i'm thinking about greggs sausage rolls
thinking about where i'm going in life
thinking about when this road will end
thinking about slowthai's yugioh cards
thinking about how much i love frank ocean
thinking about how i interpolate milo lyrics to fit my life
though i probably couldn't tell you what his words mean
thinking about how i drift from one person to the next
desperately searching for a new friend to cling to
thinking about why i didn't shave my face
for two weeks i was scared that with a blade in reach
i'd be tempted to slice my throat
if i drowned, would my body float?
thinking about how i should cut my hair
thinking about how i can act cuter
thinking about that coil girlfriend
but maybe i'll go for a boy instead
i burned my mouth on a greggs sausage roll again
so it looks like it's all going to plan
sometimes i view greggs as a temple
and the sausage roll is my zen master
i find solace in cheap british bakeries
just like how i find peace in a black man's philosophies
today i'll get my groceries from the nostrum grocers
and write poems at the apex of my sleepiness
this road is only going one way
and i can't go back to pick up the pieces
so i collect what i can to stitch together a new tapestry
made out of the few remaining pieces of the old me
maybe one day driver will say i have perfect hair
thinking about how excited i am to read tallen's messages on discord
it's nice hearing about his l5r discourse
thinking about how i promised to deliver instrumentals for quetzal
but i never did get started on them
thinking about my friend gabe's new album
and how i wish i had richard dawson's falsetto
and how i wish someone would hug me
but if i admitted that, that'd feel pretty needy of me
i don't know when this road will end
maybe i'm stuck on here forever
immortalised in the asphalt like a dead bird
approach me like you would your dad hanging in trafalgar square
i used to smile in every selfie
now it's a chore to smirk at all
but it ain't all bad
i might make curry on saturday
or maybe i'll make chicken soup
and it'll be better than hers
because i'll make sure to remove the bones
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 5:08 PM UTC
I loved to ride my Schwinn bicycle
I guess I was only nine
I ride it down to the pond
where I spent a lot of my time
I also loved a girl back then
She had a dog named Polar Bear .
Of course it was white
Until it was run over
by a school bus whose driver didn't care
I loved living in Florida
The salt air from
the ocean there
When I left the Sunshine State
I left a huge chunk
of me back there
Now I am a hand in my pocket
Always reaching for something not there
Home is where you hang
your hat
But I found no pegs to hang it
Inside of your lair .
If only we could put poems
in a bucket
Then throw onto a raging
fire
Would the flames die out
Or leap even higher .
But it seems words cost us nothing
More plentiful than the grass on the ground
Our lives have become instrumentals
Where there are no words to be found
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 4:59 AM UTC
you miss childhood so much you try dressing like you would if you were seven again.
sneakers and frilly socks.
big t-shirts and messy hair, because you’ve stopped caring about perfect hair.
you don’t mind getting your knees ***** or scabs on your shins.
those pains don’t make you flinch.
those pains don’t talk to you at night.
those pains don’t hurt like the hurt you’ve really felt.
the type of hurt that can’t be pin pointed or fixed with copious amounts of Neosporin.
you don’t worry about how you’ll feel in the morning until the morning comes.
you bite the skin off the tips of your fingers like your aiming for the bone.
because the stress and pain hits you bone deep.
bone deep.
its almost romantic sounding.
but isn’t being so broken such a romantic thing anymore?
sad music doesn’t even phase you.
its all you know. instrumentals lined with tiny violins and crying cellos.
you lay back in the grass and close your eyes. you try forgetting about the city surrounding you. the heat rises from the pavement and grips your lungs like my hands grip the small of your neck. the sun beats down on you like you owe it money.
but you don’t sweat.
this is the small stuff.
ice coffee and a bagel with cream cheese.
start your day happy.
fall apart at the end.
repeat. things get better.
then they get worse.
three months of total bliss for three months of total ****
thats the way life works right?
it always gets better though.
be still.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 3:31 AM UTC
slight music
quite instrumentals slither through the space
now an ethereal silence and a curled, gnarled hand rest at the table
weather-worn pockmarked face twitch
a common occurrence
a scene worthy of a masterful painter
the air sighs, not in sound but in feeling
it is demure, languid,
a seamless bond of hunched figure and wispy breaths
a heart feels light and hollow with pulsating winds surrounding it
a man's hide tingles, prickles
pores gently widen in anticipation
a boxed room
a shackle room
dark, yet for the dim lantern
and a speckling of pinpoints in ever shifting pupils
patterns shift with tightening skin, hackles raised
billowing smoke against snarling and jolting
our West is not kind
a child stumbles with its chittering and chattering, back into its hole
an equalizer delicately rocks upon the floor
hot in its despondence and billowing smoke barrel
the metal becomes cold, uncaring; what despair was impacted upon it has left, as is the same with all objects subject to human emotion
Old blood sleeps in the shackled room
with chattering mumbling children in their holes
life is but glorious process, while we all wish for results
how deplorable
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 4:16 PM UTC
The abstract expressionists wanted
to
strip
their work of associations
yearning for pure emotion
I didn't understand
but now I do.
Every song I've heard before
heard now
reminds me of my hollow heart
voices and instruments as phantom limb-reminders.
So I find weird instrumentals
electronic
trip-hop
stuff I never liked, things with nothing tied to them.
No summer love
no winter warm kisses
or new year of uncertainty.
It's my escape
into some kind of sensation
for
now.
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
The snowdrifts still cloak the exterior of natures ***** an impediment to the absolute euphoria that romances my soul whenever I am able to savour the enchanting glow of a incandescent burnt amber sun,
in all later months.
The wind, however vicious with its long lashes of seizing air currents, whispering through the crack of my window, straining the chimes in a chorus
of improperly tuned instrumentals; it all coincides with the atmosphere,
my dear.
I swear I hear voices in the streets, faces in odd places, arms around me as
I sleep. I ponder over what you type to me, as I lay within my sheets. You are just so different than any I've seen before; a teacher- oh! a gorgeous professor,
to you I am a chore.
Petite, little me cold as can be ...
searching for a wee bit of company. Take a coffee or a tea and stay for a while,
write a song with my name in it
and make me smile.
Teach me the lyrics, and I'll sing the harmony. Strum through the hammer on's
& pull offs, let me take over the melody. Evergreen & blue eyes, we stare into one another for eons,
absolutely mesmerized.
Yet now, you are deaf not blind.
For you never hear my soul, each time you recite a verse.
You- the distant temptation, and this dreaded February curse.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
it's like this
you are at this place
maybe it's your first time
maybe you've been here a million times
and its filled with strangers all around you
it's like you shuffle past
and try not to focus on them
because like I said
They're strangers
you listen to the music
that blares out
as your favorite band
stands in front of you
and as everyone around you
screams the words
the chorus and the verses
the instrumentals and just smiling
you realize that these aren't strangers at all
these are the family members you haven't met
the best friends awaiting to be found
and the memories awaiting to happen
but it all starts there
in that one venue
with that one band
when you realize
sometimes its not what you wear
or who you talk to
it's not the color of your skin
or the people you dream of kissing
it's those two minuets and fifty seconds*
when we all forget about being strangers
and it's like we have known each other forever
it's the moment i could live in forever
Everyone is smiling
singing the words
to the song they fell in love with
by the band who stole their hearts
all these different people
with all the same hopes
the same thing got them
through the terrible weather
and I realized in that moment
I was not just a speck of dust
in a universe of greater things
I was part of a whole
I was part of something so much bigger
that even the most complicated
nor simplest minds could understand
It's as if
In that moment I realized
that band needed us
as much as we needed them
and I didn't feel so small after all
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
The conversational instrumentals
reply to each other harmoniously
the drum pounds,the rumbles pumps
as the skyline shine on mountains
The cas cas attach the drifty clouds
the C major smiles inside the beats
melodies of the G clef arrest the rest
a spell of keyboard appraised in praise
The trumpet screams as a saint
on the shadows of the lighted hall
the wall on the edge of the mall
a fusion of hope the unsung treaties
In the west the sound of the ancestors
appease my piece, to seek a forgone peace
inside the overrated and haunted world
of indifference and utter misfortune
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
To the reader before reading: I did not write or own the instrumentals, I just wrote a song to go with the melody. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEWFq1_NVSg For those of you that choose to listen along side reading, the written whistles in the song are there to help you keep the pace I had in my mind. I am not a musician of any form. This just made me feel at peace. The song I wrote ends at 6 minutes and 5 seconds into the melody. Thank you for reading.
10 P.M. (A song for my dog)
Hey
Watch where you aim that big yawn of yours, now
Yes, I know
That the moon is high above us
Sun
Set
whistles
Moon
Rise
Please
Do not let the dreams take you away yet
Just hold on
There are still some things you need to know
Scarred
Hand
whistles
Warm
Fur
Look
I should tell you these things every day
Time is rude
You should know how much I love you
More
Love
whistles
Less
Words
Time
It is measured differently for you
Or perhaps
That tool does not apply to you
No
Wrist
whistles
No
Watch
Wish
Our time spent here was a bit more even
It's not fair
Why can't I give you most of mine
Take
My
whistles
Glassed
Sand
Tears
Of mine roll down your soft fur coat
I'm sorry
It does not even make you mad
Brown
Eyes
whistles
Gold
Fur
Those
Other people don't understand me
Or backwards
My words are just wasted in the air
Blank
Stares
whistles
Turned
Heads
Why
Should I even be thinking of them
You're right here
I got all I need in my arms
Big
Hug
whistles
Tired
Eyes
Thanks
For hearing all that was on my heart
It means a lot
I shouldn't keep you any longer
Last
Yawn
whistles
Curl
Up
Truth
I will love you more tomorrow
Like each day
Sleep wonderfully until then
Chase
Dreams
whistles
Good
Night
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 4:02 AM UTC
Somewhere in the background in the light waves that swallow all sound there's a girl with a tambourine,
she lives in another dream where the music's written on the screen, the notes remind her that's she's single and behind her is the orchestra playing Schopenhauer
albeit silently,
the aesthetics pleasing me, the silence teasing me, she asks me out to tea and I agree.
In the background where the foreground falls away into the light waves that swallow all sound, she plays her tambourine and we start another dream,
silently at first until we thirst for more than this.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC