"intros" poems
intelligent Iggy iguana is impossible,
ignorant, ill, if it is in.
impersonator Igel is into infinitive items
I illustrate intros
Iberia is interesting in ice
I'm Impeccable!
Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
I have a friend who plays guitar
I've worked with thousands ... but none quite like him.
His chord choices, the melodies and the riffs that he plays
They can only come from within.
He's been out living as a big rock star
But that's not quite the world that you'd think.
It's a rugged, rough struggle of perseverance and passion
And your life flashes by in a blink.
He isn't a shredder as are many these days
Never cramming notes where they don't belong.
He is tasteful and creative, a sound so original
His strings envelop the songs.
He has no need to display some arrogant plumage.
He doesn't show off with any thousand-note solos.
He doesn't do intros that are way too long.
His moody style transcends virtuoso.
He is my friend and proven it so
Once guiding me through a valley of black.
Not with his music, although that helped.
He did so with his hand on my back.
A music teacher once told me that
"Music is the silence between notes".
If that is true, then his silence is golden
As I love every song that he's wrote.
So all you pickers, players and shredders
in garages or with gold albums on the wall.
Take a lesson, from this humble man
You needn't over play at all.
But don't think that he is timid or without some flair
Don't make boastful quips that you think are so witty.
If the mood and the moment strikes him just so
He can make that guitar sound like Godzilla destroying a city.
I am so proud to call him my "Brother"
Such a musician, such a friend.
His music and his camaraderie have both touched my soul
and I hope that neither see's end.
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC
nostalgia sticks as i try to stop thinking
listening to the intros to my favourite
animes that were more than just a
comfort for so many years.
i want to stop thinking, but i can't.
make it stop. i want to be okay.
make it stop. i'm tired of feeling
exhausted, tired of being depressed,
tired of being nothing more than a
robot to my anxiety and society.
now's my favourite intro. i'm listening,
trying to force myself to remember the
times i watched bleach with my sister,
trying to remember what the happiness
felt like.
make it stop.
please.
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 6:40 AM UTC
by ab
Not the poster child for torture,
It's hardly enough.
Turning people crazy exposing
them to greed and madness.
I've seen all this happen when suicide comes into play.
the voices will linger , but they play no part anyway.
The mind can not take it,
Transformation ensues.
Depression creeps up on your
Shoulder and intros sadness.
Brains are like paper crumbling infrastructure.
I would not ever wish this fatal fate on another.
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 2:45 PM UTC
We lay in bed
Touching once a while
I take a bold step
Turned down
But is it one of those intros
Can't tell
I take a step back
But then then she takes a step forward
I'm confused
If there's a middle can we meet there?
If I could read her mind
I feel her heart beat uneven
Interpreted as nervousness
I could be wrong
But if I could read her mind.
Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 9:15 AM UTC
...oh, I dunno, a variety of intros could suffice, whence, none might as well, no?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMCCCXLIII)
I caught the ghost of mists likeas a veil
Down in the valley where trees clustered thence
'Hind shifting white's detail, rain waltzing hence
Without a voice as't tiptoes 'cross the tale
Of weedy blacktop; firs mair silent, frail
Calm hanging 'til winds ply the Maples' dense
Green, and the distance lost to that suspense,
Whiles I chid rain for being light; to exhale.
You listen to--is't my complaints? and YOUR
Response of "you're amazing" fails me too.
So I wish to just kiss and tease you fer
All that to...chase me--which you say you'll do.
Right now seems but a pipe dream, mists in poor
'Scuse on what lies 'fore: I belong to YOU.
20Aug18a
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
Everything I do,
is dedicated to the Art,
harnessing the chaos of this cylinder globe,
we fall in Love while everything else falls apart,
we are Miracles on this Earth that we reside on,
ridin’,
through the galaxy,
a real life is led for Art,
all else is a fallacy,
we evolve,
naturally,
call,
back to me,
as we travel through these Lifetimes,
we find the Bridge of Love to unite with,
Humans have the Healing Feminine Divine with,
the power to universally unite from that which divides us,
we consciously create change,
nothing stays the same as,
we evolve from conflict,
to a more Harmonious vibe,
the meeting,
of the tribes,
the intros and greetings,
the hellos and goodbyes,
“Good Luck & Good Love”,
letting go of,
everything that once was,
embracing the noun of now,
which is the embodiment of Forever Love,
letting go of all that’s passed,
and embracing all that’s in the future,
the moment we live in is now,
the place is here now there is no there later,
here,
under the Supermoon in Bali,
at a hot springs with a Hot Thing,
another Divine Being obviously,
and everything we do,
is dedicated to the Art,
harnessing the chaos of this cylinder globe,
that we reside on,
ridin’,
through the galaxy,
a real life is led for Art,
all else is a fallacy,
we evolve,
naturally,
call,
back to me,
as we travel through these Lifetimes,
we find the Bridge of Love to unite with,
Humans have the Healing Feminine Divine with,
the power to universally unite from that which divides us…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC
I’m wide awake, it’s four am I’ve been like this since two
Staring at the ceiling not knowing what to do.
I cannot read, I’d need a light, and I can’t take the chance
Of waking sleeping beauty and to get that evil glance.
The telly’s not an option, that’s worse than trying to read
So up I get and go downstairs, the bedroom I’ll concede.
I drop upon the sofa the remote grasped in my hand
Find an old war movie, that will do just grand.
But before the intros over my eyes begin to close
I’m now so tired, my eyes they sting and I begin to dose.
I need to make my mind up, stay here or go to bed?
This is my dilemma, what’s going through my head.
Can’t sleep here, I tell myself, as my eyes begin to ache
So now I'm here back in my bed, and once more, wide awake.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 6:18 AM UTC
Let’s be strangers not friends
That way we don’t have to be intimate
That way we won’t worry about betrayal
That way we won’t have expectations
And won’t face disappointment
There’ll be no commitments
And no reason to be loyal
If we become friends we’ll get hurt
Imagine if we go further
So let’s be strangers, no intros necessary
Apr 28, 2020
Apr 28, 2020 at 3:55 AM UTC
Look -- O’ look
The books we could be;
Seas of lumber
Slumber in dusty sleeves.
Thieves of the night
Write on our eyes;
Lies in the form of words,
Worlds in forms of home.
Some call it fiction,
Imagination calls it sanity
Gravity of our own two feet
Meet to stay alive.
“Strive” it tells me.
“Be all that you can and more.
Doors lead to windows,
Intros to the Galaxy.
Actually living more lives than one.
Undo the restrictions-
Dictions people have over you.
Few are even close
Most will never get there.
Here there is only you
Through the woods behind the books
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC