Ever have a song
Stuck in your head,
Saying you have thirst
For sound koolaid?
Koolaid, you know,
The stuff that controls
The body metronome,
Whether moving the mind
Faster…or stopping it altogether.
Fans become cultists.
Do you have Bad Blood?
Are you Never Gonna
Not Dance Again?
Do you imagine tacos,
Magical tacos, falling out of the sky?
At concerts, do brain waves
Become one wave,
While the masses belt it out,
Swaying lighters to and fro,
Predicting the beat,
Or repeat
What words have caught hold
Over you
And taken the moths,
Flying out of leather folded homes en masse,
Flapping wing beat to song.
A plague is afoot and hive brain has won.
Is that dope, or dopamine,
Helping me work, work out, love life, escape life,
Or take in a better or more macabre scene.
Eating tender leaves,
Cuckoos perform live concerts.
Spring is on its way.
To Americans, July 4th
is Independence Day,
with; barbecues, concerts, fireworks,
picnics, parades, patriotic festivities,
(a.k.a., Freedom Day).
Despite the star-spangled banner's,
red, white and blue,
to that of the British Union Jack,
being identical in hue,
flag-waving they're compelled,
or conditioned, so to do.
The U.S. Constitution does define,
'Treason' as... the only crime
consisting of levying war
against them, and/or,
to their enemies adhering,
with comfort and aid
by all means conveyed.
To those in England,
considering, in 1776,
colonists went their own sweet way,
it's the ultimate 'Treason Day'.
And, altho' the U.S. touts
'Separation of Church and State',
yea, verily I say,
is it not hypocritically unjust
of them to print on their money,
'In God We Trust'?
four wild looking guys with guitars are on tv
wearing pants that are way too tight and too short
jumping around the stage
shouting words that I do not understand but loudly
the audience is screaming happily
people have their hands high in the air
doing some kind of weird wave thing
this is a reminder why I do not go to live concerts
A Shadorma
Summer nights,
staccato crickets,
croaking frogs,
barking dogs;
firefly lanterns reeling ‘round,
an august concert.
Thunder claps,
drum beats echoing
through the clouds,
oh so proud.
They dance with lightening fingers;
concert of the rain.
There are concerts in the sky
playing cosmically on high—
be they grouping in formation
or harmonious creation,
fashioned synesthetically,
astro-energetically,
with conclusion or collusion,
stellar scenes in grand profusion,
gravitationally steady,
starry outbursts brilliant, heady,
like orchestral symphony
from the brass and tympani,
viols, woodwinds, (theoried strings),
to the charms a keyboard brings—
measureless concerti vast
merging present with the past
seamlessly, or so it seems,
as in firmaments of dreams…
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration was from “Cosmic Concert for GAM 2017” which was livestreamed with composer Giovanni Renzo, described as “a collection of compositions and improvisations conceived as a visual and poetic exploration of the universe…”
Inspiration also came from the article, “Galactic Wreckage in Stephan’s Quintet”: “A clash among members of a famous galaxy quintet reveals an assortment of stars across a wide color range, from young, blue stars to aging, red stars.”
Quite the guitarist!
He offended just about everyone
But he made some interesting points
He is gone now to his eternal rewards
Which he probably didn't believe in
That was his right of course
And strangely enough for a rock star
He wasn't into drugs
NECCESSITY IS THE MOTHER OF INVENTION!
Night birds cries…cease suddenly
Sounds approach in drunken glee
The symphony starts, Fate’s curtain parts
Neath time worn, old Oak tree
Rope bound round his neck
A tear trails down his cheek
Moonlight thru’ clotted clouds
Glows sallow, thin and weak
Makeshift gallows
Rusted pickup truck bed
Oak tree…silently
Broods darkly o’er his head
Afar in the darkness
Sound of Gabriel’s horn
In his ears, in an instant
In his heart…hope is born
Hands tied behind
Clasped tight…as in prayer
night birds cries…and Angels sighs
Afloat upon the sodden air
The engine’s roar
Gout of blue smoke
Moment of tension
Sudden crack of a rope
Moment of blackness
Then warm golden light
A soul soars away
Into star drenched night
No remorse…not a tear
No guilt…no blame
The Oak tree…innocently
Shares not the blame
Impassive instruments
In mad concert of man
Night birds and angry words
All played by God’s own hand
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.