Orchestrating Poems | Examples

Tickling the ivories

In my youth I dreamt of playing the piano
filling the nights with romance and melodies
orchestrating sound and beauty

Reading and interpreting sheet music while
compressing innermost feelings into sequences of notes
translated in the language best understood by the heart

Swirling to the beat of rhythmic grace
rich with aphrodisiac chemistry
intoxicating mesmerizing beguiling

I’ve dreamt so long of pleasuring the night
to charm the moon and stars above
with my hypnotic serenades and symphonies

A A R O H I

Arms like tiny windmills spin through morning air.
Aiming, she builds pathways?deep within her mind.

Another swing flows onward like waves upon the shore.
Awakening intention burns?as neural roads unwind.

Reaching past reflexes like butterflies from cocoons.
Rhythmic movements carve?the skills she'll always find.

Object permanence sparkles bright like diamonds in her sight.
Orchestrating muscles smooth,?her future self designed.

Hand-eye coordination weaves like spider's silken thread.
Happiness erupts when fists?and dangling targets bind.

Intentional movements bloom like flowers in the spring.
Infrastructure grows within?her brilliant, growing mind.

Soul Talk

my traumatized inner beast within
wanted bloody violent revenge
my ego was orchestrating plans
my shadow was ready for trickery
but my loving SOUL stepped in
let the revenge be to heal and
harness implement your self love
take a step back to reflect
analyze the part you played 
allowing so much to please
not to hurt or disappoint 
let the revenge be to love and
create showcase your talents
from a place of inner peace
inner wisdom healing and love
which balance thoughts and feelings
taming the egoic sense of self
face-off with shadow self darkness
empowering the inner beast perspective
surrender to the journey down your own
dark rabbit hole to find your true self
when you return transformed with
expression awareness essence and
peace that is your sweet revenge

SOS

Say something;
your silence scars my skin,
shatters my soul,
strains my skull,
stretches out my suffering and 
snowballs my syndrome.

Out loud;
your opinion is not obvious,
openness not optional,
obligation not obsolete,
only your opposition to the occasion is
orchestrating this onslaught.

Speak;
I scream and shout,
shriek and screech,
sob and solicit,
still, you stay shut-off and silent and
strike me speechless, too.

Silence

Has anyone ever told you the truth about isolation? 
No, not the tranquil kind. 
The one with a physical presence. 
The one that coils around you and squeezes until you implode. 
Where you’re alone, but you’re not really alone, 
surrounded by a tangible darkness, 
suddenly hyper-aware of every single thought that flickers through your consciousness. 
Suffer in silence, they say. 
Celebrate in silence, they forget to add. 
It’s like a one-man circus,
Orchestrating impossible feats alone. 
And when they laugh, I’m crestfallen.
“Don’t rain on my parade” 
I sob, 
standing at the bottom of the lake.

Maestro's Symphony

In the spotlight's glow, the maestro stands tall,
Conductor of dreams, orchestrating all.
With baton in hand, a wizard of sound,
He weaves melodies that astound.

Each note a brushstroke, painting the air,
A symphony of emotion, beyond compare.
Strings hum softly, brass rings out bold,
As the maestro's vision unfolds.

In his realm of music, time stands still,
A fleeting moment, yet ever so surreal.
With every crescendo, hearts take flight,
Under the baton of the maestro's might.

And when the final chord resounds,
Echoes of beauty, in silence, are found.
For in the hands of the maestro, we see,
The power of music's transcendent decree.

moon is the conductor tonight

Pacific Ocean is fiercely melodic and turquoise tonight
Her waves flowing as a ribbon, like a musical score
I stare into the horizon, seeing full moon work her magic
She is the conductor, orchestrating the tempo of the sea

symphony

Blade to my wrist like a violin
Pain can produce beautiful melodies
Composing a constant struggle
Orchestrating my own orchestra
The cold sharp bow against my strings
Vital arteries are mysterious things

Death of a heart, grieving having a feeling
They're nothing but solvable problems
I'll take Cupid's arrow through my heart
Or a bullet through my mind
Killed by love or loneliness
Bring me to a garden of unholiness
I wont shoot myself in the foot again
I'll make sure the pellets pierce my brain

Paint the walls red
Every ounce that I've bled
I don't care how I do it
I can't push through it

Cards of Lies

 Nothing stays the same, fragrant flowers fade, 
cloaked in shame, am I to take the blame? 
when rainbows abandon colors,
twisting pristine purple into pale grey vapor. 
Masks eventually slip and cards of lies unfold~
reversed angels, orchestrating cruel charades.

Komorebi

When the last drop of rain falls upon hushed leaves,
and thin threads of hope seep through petrichor perfume of life,
an array of sun kissed colors bursts forth secrets of the sky;
a Komorebi of dreams woven amidst frolicking shadows of moonrise.

I search for an answer to the equations within my hazy mind, 
I ponder if poetic verses can paint a forest burnt from ignorance?
as I’ve long been sketching drizzling sakura foliage to find healing, 
from butterfly bliss strokes of faith that never fades. 

But love is the celestial maestro orchestrating
a cloudless chorus-
where mockingbirds croon to the notes of the sun and moon-
reflecting along rolling ripples of liquified lakes.

Is there a summery phrase to illustrate 
the gossamer warmth of cascading rays?
Maybe canopies of emeralds need no lyrical words,
for the heart of moving light only thrums and throbs in sanguine silence.

Hearing

When symphonic waves crash on soundless shores,
Listen to the cadence of silent seas,
He's a virtuoso of voiceless woes,
orchestrating pre-written faith, at ease.

For every tainted tide, transpires a tune,
If you lend your ear to the unsung sighs,
perhaps sonorous currents too would croon,
amidst ringing reasons that fall and rise.

There's a fine song for every shipwrecked heart,
entrenched in rhymes from the soul of sand dunes.
Healing comes through searing sirens as art,
rhapsodizing themes of roaring runes.

As waters whistle, hushed air ricochets,
resonating the melody of a dulcet dove,
breeze beneath ripples rewinds and replays,
in divine dialects through language of love.

Whilst chorus of crickets swiftly unfold,
allow nature to compose musings of the ocean.
Words can only whisper deep scars untold,
in poetic crescendo, that translates intense emotions.

No Contest

"No Contest"

He’s a loser
that’s for sure
orchestrating
a contest
holds a mirror
up to himself

he’s a loser 
that’s for sure
the heart explodes
shrapnel hitting 
the dorsel 
fins 

I segue 
that is my way
I segue

I think 
for a while 
how do sharks
make babies?
It’s useless 
wondering why

and I walk away
from it all
and I,

I,
segue. 
I walk 
into the Ocean 
and I 
wonder why.

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

Poetry Soup

Poetry Soup,
Operating and orchestrating like no poetry site that I have tried,
Energizing the creative side of my 'compulsive bent' for writing.
The great lesson among so many others is that talent alone is not enough.
Regardless of how creative or gifted one might be, may we not forget that
Years of yearnings coupled with a masterful cast of well-wishers are priceless.

Say nothing of the contests that trigger a long-forgotten memory that
Only can be ignited and set aflame by the 'poetic spirit' found there.
Unmatched and incomparable, in my opinion, among other sites I've used.
Personally, I have greatly benefited and been enlightened of my life's purpose.

080922PSCtest, Poetry Soup Beyond Its Name, Beata Agustin

His Favorite Name Is God

The world starts with two brother lions; Warious and Darious.
Warious nearly expires from excitement; he has lost enthusiasm.
His universe is dissipating rapidly; for he refuses to relinquish control.
Warious insists upon orchestrating every move, thought and sound.
He is exhausted, overwhelmed with the frenzy of tightly-held reigns.

Darious creates earth, earthlings and earth angels in the forms of dogs
They all have freedom of choice – in thoughts, actions and deeds.
Darious occasionally gives a peek, but rarely intervenes.
Unless he receives a multitude of prayers; they get his attention.
Earthlings call him by a variety of names; he is refreshed, enthusiastic and beloved.
His favorite name is God.

Reach Out

Soft spoken like Charmin
The earth is down to you
You'd sacrifice the clothes off your body
in a winter storm
Forever putting yourself out of the photo
Loyal to snakes
Spearhead in your spine 
future bright as a lit billboard at 2 a.m.
all for $2000
Now you live among rapists, murderers
talking only within
Came out of the closet to me
and strictly me
Regret fills lungs like butterflies
My oldest friend
Dreamt of being a pioneer
We sucked ideas from each others brain
World conquerors together
Helped Mrs. Stalworth with 1000 groceries
Taught the slow boy to double knot 
This is not your destiny
You befriended me when I was fresh meat
Orchestrating fundraisers in our minuscule community
Catching game winning TD’s
Unstoppable on the field
Nicknamed sticky hands on the gridiron
Now off it too
What changed, pal?
Times get rocky
you taught me that
Why can’t you take your own advice?
Frustration boils like magma
Secrets deteriorate a person 
like battery acid
Why didn't you confide in me?
Heroin destroys like tornados
My heart full of glass and impotence
I could have helped you, brother
I'm sorry I let you fall
off that never ending cliff

• Short Orchestrating Poems
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