Tugging at matter that was
Always there.
Vivacious with life even
In strife.
Monstrous joy,
Illustrating new forms of happiness,
Looming a low level glow in the eyes.
An acrobat of body and soul.
Just you wait, though,
Over the hills booms bombastically,
Even more than what you thought love could be.
Yours, truly.
Towering
Heavenly wood
Mount Olympus
awaits
Hermes hustles
Wings flailing
Seeking higher ground
Elemental gossip.
Aphrodite's eros oozes
bombastically from the cargo net
onlookers salivate.
Poseidon glares from the pit
monitoring his realm
for rapacious rambunctious rascals.
Apollo's mirth emanates
atop the monkey bars
emotions elevate.
Ares hangs by fingertips
below
scanning for signs of his
next blow.
Persephone checks herself
slide in-view
wandering if she'd ever get that
tattoo.
Hades peers up through the cracks
from down bellow
Lamenting on his bad boy role.
Artemis finds her center
in no time stat
balance beam barely buckles.
Sticky quicksand
swallows my feet.
The arena's stacked.
Better get a move on
Mom's sure to call
grape juice slurped
bugger all.
What would you say
is the opposite of music therapy?
Oh, probably some way too loud
dissonant cacophany mess
of intolerably angry and frightening
bombastically hateful noise.
Why do you ask?
Just wondering if it's just me
who sees and hears sounds of war
against peace advocating music therapy
in some synergetic harmonic way.
Who would you think is the least multicultural musical
therapeutic personality
on the US nationalistic scene?
Oh my!
We have so many loud
self-promoting voices
preferably unsung
quite so publicly.
But, one who blare and twitter Trumpets
his anti-therapy voice
more than others
does come to painful mind
and oppressed heart.
Yes,
for me as well.
On the other hand,
a couple of dance and family health therapists
come to mind
on the more positive side
of healthy faith in music healing depth of tone
and hue
and liberating interdependent cry.
I hope we hear
healing antidotes,
less minor keys
more resonant resounds
of deep learning resilience
mid-term sooner
than full-term dissonance.
Pain greeted me bombastically and abruptly; with no hint of subtlety or remorse…
There were no mutinous whispers in the quivering candlelight; nor debatable discourse…
It conquered me immediately… Disgraced, I was forced to kneel…
And with a pretentious grin, pieces of my soul it began to steal…
Its dreadful face is the last thing I see at night; and the first when I awake…
Its devotion is almost reassuring, but its motives still opaque…
I escaped down to the drugstore last Monday night…
I asked for some elixir, but all the drugs were locked up tight…
So I sat down on the sidewalk; defeated back against the wall…
My pain sat down beside me and offered up some alcohol…