"ostinato" poems - Hello Poetry

It usually goes a little like this: Intro, body, bridge, body, body, outro The body is the most important part Or at least so we think at first hearing But personality and words are equal And your melody is lyrically smooth As your tempo bounces along my stave And my vocal chords strum into crescendo You are my ****** note Ascending to my neck Descending to my heart I yearn to be someone's hand to hold Someone's ostinato To transfer into a lower key If I could be your vibrato Shake me, shake me, shake me I love you I rise up out of my seat Out of my body As I make my way towards the outro And scream: "YOU DIDN'T KEEP YOUR PROMISE!" But kiss you, anyway Because honesty was never your forté And I love the words that escape your lips And I love your body I love you

0

Sep 26, 2015

Sep 26, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC

worried-words

Body

It usually goes a little like this: Intro, body, bridge, body, body, outro The body is the most important part Or at least so we think at first hearing But personality and words are equal And your melody is lyrically smooth As your tempo bounces along my stave And my vocal chords strum into crescendo You are my ****** note Ascending to my neck Descending to my heart I yearn to be someone's hand to hold Someone's ostinato To transfer into a lower key If I could be your vibrato Shake me, shake me, shake me I love you I rise up out of my seat Out of my body As I make my way towards the outro And scream: "YOU DIDN'T KEEP YOUR PROMISE!" But kiss you, anyway Because honesty was never your forté And I love the words that escape your lips And I love your body I love you

27

Here.you can have this one easy, I wont struggle i wont even look.Here you can sharpen your pencil and jot me down in the book.Here....... cant spell CAT less I give C and T to U. And you think creation bubbles and boils in you. Sad sack of !!!. .....When I wanted my turn? oh no, you were way to busy reading tea leaves, mumbling mantras,consulting the zodiac Now you want me to rub your head and tuck you in bed,pull your blanky chin high and then tuck it, Hmm, too easy. Verses with curses, you call that a poem ? Here. right here between the C and the T. good boy. Now. Shall we begin the beguine. There once was a man from Belize Who was stung by the poetry bees. He read books to distraction But couldn't get traction less I pushed for action To clear up his those from his these..Duh So Here. go visit Nantucket. Dont forget to take a bucket !!!. Next stop Limerick. Here we go again. Next time I crawl back try to at least offer me chair. A " hey dude it's good to see you" or I swear I'm off again like a ***** shirt. Just you and that keyboard and blinky the cursor.Blink, blink, blink................ There.I finally got that unchested. Feel so much better now, so Here take a letter now. Here you can have this one easy.

0

Oct 3, 2013

Oct 3, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC

geno-cattouse-1

Ostinato

Here.you can have this one easy, I wont struggle i wont even look.Here you can sharpen your pencil and jot me down in the book.Here....... cant spell CAT less I give C and T to U. And you think creation bubbles and boils in you. Sad sack of !!!. .....When I wanted my turn? oh no, you were way to busy reading tea leaves, mumbling mantras,consulting the zodiac Now you want me to rub your head and tuck you in bed,pull your blanky chin high and then tuck it, Hmm, too easy. Verses with curses, you call that a poem ? Here. right here between the C and the T. good boy. Now. Shall we begin the beguine. There once was a man from Belize Who was stung by the poetry bees. He read books to distraction But couldn't get traction less I pushed for action To clear up his those from his these..Duh So Here. go visit Nantucket. Dont forget to take a bucket !!!. Next stop Limerick. Here we go again. Next time I crawl back try to at least offer me chair. A " hey dude it's good to see you" or I swear I'm off again like a ***** shirt. Just you and that keyboard and blinky the cursor.Blink, blink, blink................ There.I finally got that unchested. Feel so much better now, so Here take a letter now. Here you can have this one easy.

19

Constant From the cue of entrance Through the chaotic ink splashes And the measures of rest A part of us keeps this rhythm Strung clear and precise Mysteriously, wandering throughout We pass around the chore Until the final chord is drawn But we survive In the minds of our audience, Forever trying to grasp hold of Our fleeting orchestral heart beat: Ostinato

0

Nov 13, 2014

Nov 13, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC

GracePickard

Ostinato

Constant From the cue of entrance Through the chaotic ink splashes And the measures of rest A part of us keeps this rhythm Strung clear and precise Mysteriously, wandering throughout We pass around the chore Until the final chord is drawn But we survive In the minds of our audience, Forever trying to grasp hold of Our fleeting orchestral heart beat: Ostinato

14

Traveling (with Frost) down the lightly trodden path, with shoed soles sauntering over thawed earth, twisting down the narrow trail, away from the prying eyes of tour guides— Encompassed by flowery heads who mirror the sun, who burst forth with fluorescent green necks craning from the dirt, delineating our path in cascades of springing splendor. Sensing the ostinato of ambulant waters crescendo, we soon break from the budding foliage— To be greeted by gentle winds and the lapping of placid waves who break onto the languid shore onto shoed and socked feet, who sense holy ground and immediately kick off their bindings— To sink into the earth, and gritty sand reaching up between toes; the water deceptively inviting, is greeted with delightful shrieks in its refreshing chill. Secluded in our cove, we gaze over the waters where to our right rests a breathing reconstruction of the Dove; we stand awed before these waters both the settler and the native. What gods were praised on these lands, and in these woods, and in these skies, and in these waters? And on March 25, 1634, in the promising onset of spring, what had they to sing in the calm airs as the settlers crossed the threshold of the Potomac? She whispers, “Funny how the water appears green on the shore, and clear on the river.” --St. Mary's City, March 10, 2016.

0

Mar 10, 2016

Mar 10, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC

jarjarrhine

Daffodil Gulch

Traveling (with Frost) down the lightly trodden path, with shoed soles sauntering over thawed earth, twisting down the narrow trail, away from the prying eyes of tour guides— Encompassed by flowery heads who mirror the sun, who burst forth with fluorescent green necks craning from the dirt, delineating our path in cascades of springing splendor. Sensing the ostinato of ambulant waters crescendo, we soon break from the budding foliage— To be greeted by gentle winds and the lapping of placid waves who break onto the languid shore onto shoed and socked feet, who sense holy ground and immediately kick off their bindings— To sink into the earth, and gritty sand reaching up between toes; the water deceptively inviting, is greeted with delightful shrieks in its refreshing chill. Secluded in our cove, we gaze over the waters where to our right rests a breathing reconstruction of the Dove; we stand awed before these waters both the settler and the native. What gods were praised on these lands, and in these woods, and in these skies, and in these waters? And on March 25, 1634, in the promising onset of spring, what had they to sing in the calm airs as the settlers crossed the threshold of the Potomac? She whispers, “Funny how the water appears green on the shore, and clear on the river.” --St. Mary's City, March 10, 2016.

37

Again and again The ostinato repeats It's stuck in my head.

0

Apr 16, 2014

Apr 16, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC

ashley-somebody

Ostinato

Again and again The ostinato repeats It's stuck in my head.

3

This takes place on a rooftop above the city Almost twangy, almost Stars are out, and boy, are they ever strong The sweetest lullaby of a love song Sung to me from your fingertips Patetico Strumming the notes as you would a lover Best friends turned to endless memories Perfect, soft whispers Harmonies that make me listen so close I don't want to miss a thing Breathing in the calmest wind-- your air Sospirando Coming together with a melody that grows Two bodies unified as one loud symbol-- Crescendo, dolcissimo, fortepiano, melting gelato Rosy reds and the palest clouds Awakening both hearts, not a dream You tighten your grip and beg me not to go Ostinato As long as you keep singing from your fingertips Appassionato And if those hands are your outlets Bravura I’ll stay here Al fine

0

Aug 20, 2014

Aug 20, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC

brokenperfection

Sempre, Liberamente

This takes place on a rooftop above the city Almost twangy, almost Stars are out, and boy, are they ever strong The sweetest lullaby of a love song Sung to me from your fingertips Patetico Strumming the notes as you would a lover Best friends turned to endless memories Perfect, soft whispers Harmonies that make me listen so close I don't want to miss a thing Breathing in the calmest wind-- your air Sospirando Coming together with a melody that grows Two bodies unified as one loud symbol-- Crescendo, dolcissimo, fortepiano, melting gelato Rosy reds and the palest clouds Awakening both hearts, not a dream You tighten your grip and beg me not to go Ostinato As long as you keep singing from your fingertips Appassionato And if those hands are your outlets Bravura I’ll stay here Al fine

26

Le mani con un tremito del telefono stringevano il filo; mi aveva poco prima recato la tua voce che mi diceva addio. Un vagante raggio ebbe la luce, tenue filo dell'anima del mio bacio donato solo dal desiderio. Ma dall'esilio ci libererà l'ostinato mio amore.

0

781

Giuseppe Ungaretti

13 settembre 1966

Le mani con un tremito del telefono stringevano il filo; mi aveva poco prima recato la tua voce che mi diceva addio. Un vagante raggio ebbe la luce, tenue filo dell'anima del mio bacio donato solo dal desiderio. Ma dall'esilio ci libererà l'ostinato mio amore.

11

With every note that flows Every stage that goes I get closer to an end Maybe closer to you Every staccato that unfolds Overlapping that legato left untold Moves me closer to an end A stage ending with you Every rise And every fall I hope To find you So used to the idea Of two different melodies Starting together instantaneously... That I so desperately want you But as the arrangement continues to flow In a cadence of escalating ostinato The hope that there is a stretto or Chord progression... Slowly weakens with the idea of you So much so that Every beat resonates within me deeper And courses through my veins Almost leaving no space For you The pain left in every note that Brings me closer to the end Twists you into a syncopation And I into a ballad of bottomless commiseration I just... I pray to God That my composition ends In the best quality it could ever be.

0

Jun 13, 2018

Jun 13, 2018 at 12:40 PM UTC

Yanamari

Step

With every note that flows Every stage that goes I get closer to an end Maybe closer to you Every staccato that unfolds Overlapping that legato left untold Moves me closer to an end A stage ending with you Every rise And every fall I hope To find you So used to the idea Of two different melodies Starting together instantaneously... That I so desperately want you But as the arrangement continues to flow In a cadence of escalating ostinato The hope that there is a stretto or Chord progression... Slowly weakens with the idea of you So much so that Every beat resonates within me deeper And courses through my veins Almost leaving no space For you The pain left in every note that Brings me closer to the end Twists you into a syncopation And I into a ballad of bottomless commiseration I just... I pray to God That my composition ends In the best quality it could ever be.

33

Ivory seafoam kisses the bleached sand, like long-lost lovers dancing to the rhythm of the ocean wave band. The tide crashes Into the sandy arms of the shore. A lingering embrace before receding, too fleeting. Soft waves cycle in an ostinato, as the ocean beckons Then retreats, repeats.

0

Feb 25, 2018

Feb 25, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC

poetryboulevard

A Moment's Meeting

Ivory seafoam kisses the bleached sand, like long-lost lovers dancing to the rhythm of the ocean wave band. The tide crashes Into the sandy arms of the shore. A lingering embrace before receding, too fleeting. Soft waves cycle in an ostinato, as the ocean beckons Then retreats, repeats.

16