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Age Music Poems | Age Poems About Music

These Age Music poems are examples of Age poems about Music. These are the best examples of Age Music poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric | |

WE ALL DIE

My piety,my poetry ,my love
All are in vain
my music, my love ,my mind
All are running insane

My rhymes are all crooked
I can't write a perfect song
Looks like my life is worthless
my music, my poetry its all gone

Behold the paradox,
In these old rhymes 
living in a worthless life 
All these times 

The music's almost over
just need to turn out the light
I need just one leap
Need to show on last fight

I need to create something
something that makes you feel
the goal isn't to live forever
Its to create something that will


Details | Free verse | |

Musical Torment - The Infamous Masterpieces

Torturing me with touches
I feel the sting of hardened and lasting lust
Touches not of mortal fingers,
But Halloween-haloed strings composed by musicians of mystery
Pressing upon my back--yes! A searing, yet melodi-errotic strike
All upon me, yet far from me...

Leave me not in the judgement of my own scrambling feelings
Rest not away as I hold my hands out in the dark
Deathly dances are visions heaven-bound for the duo--
Yet for the solo- a blank, useless measure...

The pulsing silence of amateur-stitched love rattles me
Making rhythms giggle in my mind
Intervals of idiocy tormenting all reason
Truly an agonizing, but for others--minor--prison
Is the smile that helped design those strings
Those strings that pluck upon my spine
Controlling me in a dark place stuck between tunes and time

Why are your hands so cold when you play those piano keys?
Why are your lungs so eroded with the pride that taints the songs you sing?
Why have the rhythms gone awry, and why does your apathetic dissonance thrive?

And tell me… through it all…
As you compose the rise and fall…
Why is all this destruction you created so vibrantly alive?


Details | Free verse | |

If Languages Were Instruments

If languages were instruments,
English, the language of my own America,
Would be something like a piano.
Each word is clear and sharp-
When we sing, the note does not waver.
But I suppose it's more fair to say that
English is something like an electronic keyboard
With two hundred different modes because English
Has so many different versions, 
Adaptations of other instruments,
Emulations, or imitations, however you want 
To think of it; there is no accent that cannot 
Be reconfigured to be
Played on keys in distinct shades
Of black or white.

Arabic though...
Arabic is more like a violin.
The sound of Arabic
Flies up and down the scale
In deliciously smooth legato,
Stopping to linger on vibrato;
Poignant


Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | Verse | |

Langue d'oc, a Micro-Paradelle

Your love song lapsed into ancient French that April day.
I only understood the words of spring and heartsore
lapsed. Only love and heartsore, I understood your ancient 
words of the spring-day song into that French April.

You fabricate my pauses into repetition, silence speaks
of ages strung to rhyme in love’s difficult service
you strung into pauses in service to ages. Fabricate of
love’s repetition, rhyme speaks my difficult silence.

We practice tedium of vows till language breaks apart.
As if art should aim at science, rigorous, quantitative,
rigorous language breaks tedium. Science vows a part of 
quantitative practice till we should aim “as if” at art.

Till we lapsed into language. As your ancient ages only
fabricate quantitative French strung to that difficult
practice, science speaks of tedium and understood rhyme. 

The spring in service of love’s rigorous vows. April 
pauses, heartsore. You and I, apart. If love should aim 
my words at day, repetition breaks into silence of song.


Details | Lyric | |

Unite Blue

Verse 1

I’ve had this dream now for a while,
But the real world’s where I choose to stay,
The time is now for standing up,
To reach out for that brighter day.

Chorus

Unite to lend a hand to those who are in need,
Unite against them, whose souls are consumed by greed,
Unite and lend a hand, and we can change the world,
We’re the ones we’ve been waiting for.

Verse 2

Walking past two souls holding hands,
I see that it’s true love conquers all,
A dreamland where we all sing and dance,
And hands to catch us should we fall.

(Chorus)

Bridge

United, it’s in our hands,
United, it’s how we stand,
United, across all lands.
Empathy, we understand,
Together, it’s how we stand,
Unite with one voice, One Hand.


Details | Epic | |

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  


Details | Rhyme | |

Kaleidoscope of Sound

Colors of the spectrum Light up my world Bright rays dancing Shades enhancing The kaleidoscope of sound I can feel it all around A whisper on the wind The murmur of the stream Rustling of leaves Creaking of the eaves Roaring of the waves Cooing of a babe Birds a chirping Bees a buzzing Thunder rumbling Mountain crumbling Ringing honking Beeping thumping Crashing clanging Booming bopping Intermingling all together In every season, scene or weather And it echoes in my head As I lie on heather beds Such a masterful symphony Sweetest ever melody, All the world´s life in harmony.


Details | Personification | |

Treasure of My Heart

Yamaha impressed me the first time I laid eyes on her glistening blond maple wood, her stylish body details, her long fretted mother-of-pearl inlay; lobed with golden keys. Her voice called to me the first time I held her in my arms. I strummed her six strings slowly in the key of G, then moved softly to D and C. All the while, I searched earnestly for her purity in sound quality and style. She was not the most beautiful in the showroom. But oh yes! She did flatter me with her musical presence. She was beautiful to me! I knew from that moment on she would be mine for eternity. 

Within the hour, I took her home to meet the family. She was shy on the journey, not making a sound; perhaps due to this being her first automobile ride or simply wanting to see a world she was now a part of. Yamaha was cased in alligator leather, a brown dressing which was stylish for the day. We were both nervous as we arrived and got out of the car. My strong caressing grip on her handle assured her she wouldn’t fall and it would be alright. She knew it would be alright as I smiled at her. 

I opened the door, allowing her to enter first. When in the living room, I called to everyone to come meet the newest member of the family. Dad was taken by her simple yet elegant beauty and style. Mom touched her first and she was most pleased. At that moment I realized the importance of first impressions as Mom marveled at how pretty she was. I sat down in the best chair in the living room while Mom listed to Yamaha talk and I sang a popular country love song.  I was pleased with the family acquaintance to Yamaha. It was evident she had become a part of the family.

 The first few weeks, I couldn’t keep Yamaha out of my arms. I longed to be with her every minute of the day. In my eye, she made me smile by just gazing upon her. I fumbled with her in those beginning days. She ignored my elementary attempts at refinery and permitted me the time to catch up to her mastery rather than bow down to my level. Like any two lovers, both must reach to the need of the other. Only then is love truly in harmony. 

Today, Yamaha is not the young glistening blond I held in my arms some thirty years removed. Her wood has been scared by my love to play her. She has received countless face lifts which cover her tainted mother-of-pearl. Her brown leather case dress stands in need of a seamstress care. But as with all things having been learned through love, we now make beautiful music together. She is my treasure, a light into my soul's well. She amplifies my inner being. As I perform, she is glorified. We have grown old together,and gotten better in time. I still hold her in my arms day by day as this lover has risen to her grace and expectations. She is my treasure for a life time.


Details | Rhyme royal | |

I'm Irreplaceable

I slip my headphones on, and I begin dreaming,
my desk is my alter, and the Heavens is what I'm seeing.
My pen is the bridge, and this paper is the gate,
writer's block is the pad lock, the only thing in the way.

I click open my pen, and begin to release from within,
my blood runs as deep the ink, and washes away my sins.
My thoughts are the cross, and my burdens act like a wreath.
Razor sharp thorns cut me, as I'm trying to catch my breath.

My enemies are the whips, hitting me in the back,
tying me down with chains, just to get a little laugh.
My lyrics are my message, what got me here in the first place.
My mind is my shovel, digging the hole to bury my scarred face.

Then the beat stops, and I wake up from my trance,
I hit replay and try again, I only got one chance.
I'm giving it my all, but at least I'll always know one thing,
I'm Irreplaceable.


The track starts again, and I slip back into my sleep.
My pen is my gun and the paper is my enemies.
Writers block is my holding cell, and the key is my mind,
my mind is the problem, because it locks itself up all the time.

The beat is my pulse, slowing down before it drops,
then picking up the pace, while adrenaline does it's job.
My words are the bullets, penetrating your skin,
your body is still intact, but you're shattered within.

The lead is the streets, giving me countless ways to go,
the eraser gives me the ability, to never leave my home.
Every word is a stray bullet, it'll connect it won't.
My enemies are my targets, I either hit 'em or I don't.

But I'll keep shooting, until this lead goes dull,
I'm giving it my all, but at least I'll always know one thing,
I'm Irreplaceable.


Details | Rhyme | |

Those days of youth

Those days of youth

Long gone the days when I was young
When life was just a ball of fun
Movies, music, boys and all
Growing up was such a ball.

After school we would all meet
And play our music, it was sweet
Guys like Bill Hayley were our choice
And Elvis, he had such a lovely voice

We’d rock and roll would we for countless hours
Oh, we could sure get off on music’s power
Then when it came to head on home again
Jeeze I had a lot of aches and pains.

Nothing could replace those days of old
Twas in those days our manner was so bold
Those days they were the best part of my life
But never did we get ourselves in strife.

Vera duggan 26 August 201


Details | Ekphrasis | |

LEADING VIOLIN

LEADING VIOLIN The maiden's euphoric fugue The arrogant stretched notes of the violin plague Lightening and softening rough edges mark Blues and browns duet with the sways of thick auburn hair and round voluptuous behind. . . What message she wants to rain? What joy she wants to fire? Or is it wrath she wants to spill? Her libretto casts a paint of dullness around yet, it resurrects her curves to swing... Bareback moans a prudent chaste appeal Vibrato runs along the brush of Sotskova ________________________________________ Inspired by: "LEADING VIOLIN" painting of Lena Sotskova 8:07pm, January 16,2015


Details | Concrete | |

Trip Twist

In the void, sipping the zoid,
with mental properties of tripping on the spiral.
Falling down the tail of lions, awkwardly spinning.
With upside down tunnel vision leaking through.

Solidifying all matter that matters,
melting into the walls of your brain.
It tickles all the raindrops dripping in your eyes,
satisfying your desire of a synchronized pattern.

Bleeding purple from the rainbow,
and turning into swirls of diamonds.
Slipping exuberantly beside you; driving you wild.
Where the shadows stop the spirited scream.

Devour yourself into the omniscient grip. 
Icy cold finger tips scratch the surface of your divinity,
bringing you closer to the God who whispered in your unborn ear,
situated in your flesh from birth to death.

It embeds itself in the pupil of your eye,
dancing with your spirit and licking your soul.
Black shapes of madness wrapped in chaos and euphoria.
Twinkling and blinking dust of a cloud. 

Haze filled skies and blood filled smoke raining from the clouds.
Envisions of clowns and demons laughing at our demise.
Chilling sensations of sickening mannerisms,
mechanisms and mechanics sought out to destroy the tiny creatures.

These creatures running crazy into acceptance of demise.
Deprived of life, scared of death but giving into it's taste.
Taste buds quiver as the taste grows sweeter.
Death, oh death, tell everyone who you really are...

Too long have you been hidden in the shadows you cast, 
too long have we rendered your pain.
The world grows sicker as the hairs in my head grey. 
I'll never surrender as demons always circle.

Today, begins a new day of our fight.
And I have a good feeling about this day. 
Onward, we have united our minds and gathered ourselves within. 
Always ready for we accept our fear. 

We accept our hate and everything in between.
Accept it all for what it really is. 
No amount of doubts will over throw us. 
Onward, to peace.


Details | Free verse | |

Queen Esther The Song

(Esther 5: 2)



(Chorus:  Part 1)

Walk In Majesty
Walk In Grace
Walk With GOD
Shining On Your Face
And You Can Walk
Thru Any Place ...
                      Embraced


Prepare Your Steps
To Bring GOD Praise
Keep Your Stride
A Steady Pace
Walk In GOD's Ways
Thru Every Space ...
                     Embraced


(Chorus:  Part 2)


Walk Like Queen Esther
Brave & Beautiful
Walk Like Queen Esther
Divinely Dutiful

and Every Step You Take
Please Pray
and GOD Will Guard You
On The Way


... Walk Like Queen Esther ...



Walk Like Queen Esther
In Love & Trust
Walk Like Queen Esther
and Move On
If You Must ...

and Every Step You Take
Please Pray
and GOD Will Guide You
Through Always



and Walk Like Queen Esther
Walk Like Hadassah
Walk Like Queen Esther



(Main Song)



The King Held Out To Esther
The Golden Scepter
That Was In His Hand

She Was His Queen
The Woman Who Fulfilled His Dreams
One of The Most Beautiful In All His Lands

There Was No Hesitation
In His Heart's Designation
Towards This Woman Who Stood Royal & Serene

She Held His Affection
and Did Not Suffer Rejection
As She Humbly Walked In, As His Queen

But Oh, The Interplay
of Emotions That Day
Between This Woman & Her Loving Man

When The King Held Out To Esther
His Golden Scepter
... That Was In His Hand

* * * * * * * * * * * *


so Walk Like Queen Esther
Walk Like Hadassah
Walk Like Queen Esther


( Walk-On Hadassah - Walk-On ! )


             Written & Copyrighted ©:  9/17/2013 
              by:  MoonBee Canady


Details | Free verse | |

Love And Pricks

I Love the elderly so full of history I love my generation who kept me a mystery I love the children who's future, now bright for I have died for them to capture the light for i understand pain more than ever once I released it the anger got better as it went away from the people and into my music without a single reason to prove it without a reason to let Love's light in I didn't, it found me and lesser I sin God and my father both let me know it would all be okay so very long ago even tho the road would be full of pricks even back then I'd tell them you can all suck my dick. -Bj Fard


Details | Lyric | |

Don't you worry bout my soul

Don't you worry bout my soul
Til you've been down all my lonely roads
And gauged the weight of my full load 
Don't you worry bout my soul
.
I see you on the tv conning, talking squawking walking like you really care about me and my kind
You cry your tears like a  crocodile  empty eyes phony smile,
To me I plainly see you're clearly blind 
So don't you worry bout my kind . . .
I see everything just fine
You're busy yelling and a tellin me all the things you think you can see, going on in this ol world you think ain't right
Get the beam on out of your own eye, til you've listened to the children cry, hungry and tormented in the night 
Don't you worry bout my eyes . . .
I'm seeing everything just fine
.
Don't you worry bout my ears
Cause you've been deaf for many years
I don't need some deaf man tellin me what I should hear or how to be, when he is only playing on my fears
So don't you worry bout my ears . . .
I hear your deafness loud and clear
.
Don't you worry bout my mind
Though it gets misplaced from time to time
But I think I know what courage means, how heartache feels, when freedom rings
And I know that I am running out of time
So don't you worry bout my mind . . .
I think I'll get along just fine
.
Don't you worry bout my soul
Cause I met the Master long ago
And the one you portray Him to be
Is not the same One known to me
The One Who made me free so long ago
So don't you worry bout my soul.
.
Mathew 15:14


Details | Verse | |

Right Now

In the exact moment that I am right now
I stand in a sea of vulnerability;
susceptible to the effects of causes around me
and since I am fully aware, 
I own my surroundings
I am one with sounds and vibrations
resonating from the earth;
I am that pulse of the drum beat 
thats been thrashing 
inside me since birth

Right now, I am exactly as I am
deeply flawed and misjudged
used, victimized and persecuted
Right now I am you in the absolute

Right now, I am exactly as I am
balanced, whole and complete
attracting abundance and certainty  
Right now I am peace - still you
 
Right now, I am exactly as I am
You


Details | Limerick | |

Diasbled Musician

There was a disabled musician
Who stiffly played every audition.
Now recording with care,
Strumming from his armchair,
On youtube he’ll post each composition.
20141113 for limerick contest


Details | Haiku | |

Words

Words said, sung, written
Bred man's civilization. 
Words made us human.


Details | Ballad | |

Gentle music

Gentle music

Always I’ve loved music
How I love to write those songs
I love to bash on the old guitar
And sing my words so strong
But gentle always does it
Sheer noise, I cannot stand
I love a real sweet melody
With a lovely soft, sweet band.

It seems the melody has gone
From music, now these days
Everyone just screams and shouts
Their minds all in a haze
From every kind of booze and drugs
All sweetness played right out
The young guys call it music
But me, I have my doubts.

I write my songs with sweetness
The words as plain as day
I need to get my words across
Not put folk in a daze
I want to see folk happy
Not doped out of their heads
I’m not out to feed the mind
I choose the heart instead.

25 August 2013 @ 1156hrs.


Details | Hamd | |

OWED TO DOLLY

written 28th June 2013


Raised in a world, without 'any' morals
 lead me to a... lifetime of sorrows
Words 'within'.. Dolly's song's..
 was the 'only' reason... I took this challenge on
Refusing to have 'my' children.. raised that, same way
 I focused on 'this'... world, she sung about..
In singing Dolly's song's, it would see me 'begin' to pray
 the crossing over.... to 'this', world of happy day's
Was.. much harder.. than her song's, did ever say
 believing... 'only', on her words, during the hardest of time's...
I'd sing her song... till it would.. eventually.. give way
 but with 'Dolly', as my guide
I took it all.. in stride
 twenty-one years after... my first step, onto this walk
It 'is'.. the one thing, I did right, seeking out this... world in which she spoke
 'unknown' to Dolly, She alone... gave me strength
To leave.. a world, in which... I'd grown..
 'and' guide us, to this little town, we now call home
So "thank you" Dolly Parton, for letting.. 'your' lyric's be known...
 they alone, were the power in which... I 'finally' found our, loving home.


Details | Acrostic | |

Warrior Poet

Warrior Poet, newest nom de plume for Mark Halliday
An American citizen, gained a taste for living abroad as a LDS missionary.
Retired in 2007 as a Staff Sergeant from the US Army (20 years service);
Really preferred assignments in Germany over Macedonia and Iraq.
Instrumentalist, he learned to plays (in order): piano, flute, synthesizer, 
Organ, guitar, fife, keyboards, acoustic and electric and bass guitars.
Reads a lot, mostly military science fiction novels.  Loved Marvel Comics.
Prior studied French, Spanish, German, Russian, and Serbo-Croatian;
Only writes lyrics and poetry though in English and French to Nelly (Mrs H).
Enjoys cooking stroganoff, lasagna, choucroute garni, and couscous.
Trying today to get a job in France; will be flying to Paris October 12th.

Mark Halliday
20141003, Monterey Calif.


Details | ABC | |

Lady Una and the Lion

Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day


Where she always loved to be at Una  walked along the steady stream 
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)

And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy

With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream 
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una 
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words 
 I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-

She became very happy and intrigued 
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words 
  -I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith 

There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion 
So small and graceful like a gift from god above 
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith 

www.illusionsgallery.com/Una-Lion.html


Details | Concrete | |

Color's Of Night

These shades of grey all through the night always brings fourth enough light to where your right there in my sight. It's the colors of night, black and white with stars up high producing a forever light, helping to carry me forward with each passing day. For the colors black and white are both hot and cold, neutral too making them equal causing the starry night to turn grey, letting me see you as I'm suppose to. It's like the star afar, the twinkle of a diamond from the sky's of heaven that's so far away making way for our great escape.


Details | Limerick | |

Gregorian Chant Rap

Mozart composed the Jazz of his day,
Bach could Rock in the same way,
Music is music,
Melodies mimic,
Young tunes turn classical fogies’ heads gray.


Details | Clerihew | |

The Scrooge Christmas Musical

     The Scrooge Christmas Musical

Hiding in bed is poor Scrooge
His antigravity boots too huge
To hold him down from bad spirits
Only there to teach him new lyrics


 Created on 12/04/14  for - Andrea Dietrich - A Christmas Character Clerihew –    Poetry Contest


Details | Haiku | |

Heart Strum

moved by the music
heart jumped with the melody
sang with harmony


Details | Lyric | |

Stay

She said baby I have to go,
I said girl you don't need to go,
Because baby I want you to stay,
'Til the sun rise,
'Til the end of the night,

I said baby I'm feelin you,
And I'm fallin in love with you,
Which is somethin I never thought I would do,
But, I did today,
So girl, Why don't you stay,

Chorus:2x
Why don't you stay, 4x
'Til the sun rise,
'Til the end of the night,

She said baby I have to leave,
I said girl I don't want you to leave,
My darling please stay with me,
'Til the night end,
Then come back again,

Because baby we have a chance,
For us to have a great romance,
So, girl take my hand and dance,
You don't have to go,
Baby don't go,
Chorus: 3x

'Til the sun rise,
'Til the end of the night,


Details | ABC | |

Grey Bird

On that cloudy weekend in June 
I hear a soft and graceful tune 
from the grey bird on the tree 
branch 
Singing sweet lullabies felt 
blessed in the moment 
My body tingles of joy at sight 
Gazing out through 
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon 
Heart filled with emotion came 
over me 
Grey bird stood playing its tune 
for awhile and on the wings of 
letting go
Then as the rain fell from the 
sky the grey bird flew away 
gracefully 
I blew a kiss to the clouds and 
utterd these simple words of I 
Love You father ( who's now in 
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear 
that grey bird sing again once 
more for me 
Farewell, love your son

Poem contest for Debbie -referential


Details | Personification | |

Drawn in Harmony

The phrase "Music to my ears" has been injected toward the 
wrong part of my body, and most unpleasantly personified. 
There is a record player that I let skip and scratch on purpose, hearing 
colorful sound of life back when truth kept us both inside the lines. 
I thought order was helping me draw closer to you, while you began on the next 
page without me. The needle digs it's way into my ape-shaped forearm. 
I'm directed by the guitar string shaped veins 
that only play notes in the keys of D# E# A# F# and the sharp sounds pierce 
my perception to the point I can hardly hear your voice anymore. 

At times, listening to the same old sad song on repeat makes me think
that I am just an old soul getting repeatedly tossed around in God's 
big barrel of human paradox. "Lord what was I made for? Surely it wasn't 
to repeat the mistakes of my forefathers, because I'm certain I am the 
only one you molded with forearms so large, that the record got lost 
and forgot how to spin in circles. Music is all about art, and art all about 
perception. Perception has nothing to do with your eyesight, and 
you use your ears to envision the painting on a blank canvas before picking 
anything else up but sound waves. I drive myself crazy sometimes when 
I think that my inspiration is speeding away from me in the 
opposite lane, but I didn't even ask for directions. Mostly because I'm a man, 
a stubborn one at that, and I always think I know where I'm going. 
But this time, I swear I had gotten the map right. So I transformed my open 
hands into tight fists to make music burst out of my arms, and the needle went 
faster and faster until it broke off, and the high pitched vibration 
disintegrated the steel into my own blood. I blame myself for letting this 
be the first time to let myself draw some air into my body. A surgery of 
scalpels cutting into my physical, and an orchestral symphony of sutures, 
threading my life back together again. My blue blood turns crimson as it kisses the air. 
Why do we associate the color red with life and vibrancy, when it clearly shows that we are letting our own blood run down our arms? Why do so many women where red lipstick; the kind that sticks to your collar, screaming to your wife that you clearly sinned? 
Why do we see sin so clearly; transparent enough for others to correct us before we really we even grasp the desire to fix ourselves? AND WHY IN THE WORLD IS THIS MUSIC PLAYING SO LOUDLY NOW; when my needle broke off into my body a long time ago, and I can hardly hear you anymore.
Good thing my life's song still isn't completely written yet. Let's add a more positive climax to this. One drawn in harmony.