“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sunday, September 2, 2018
Conductivity and Rhythm
The bass was low all day,
the only thing that resonated
was my deaf ear toward the treble.
When my eyes bulge with tears,
it is time to surrender,
when the bones feel metallic and leaden,
light notes miss their harmony.
A dread tastes sour and acrid
in the back of the mouth.
An idea of where one is and
what must be done is conjured
in a line, the music keeps time
alive, lightening the load
a feeling carries a tune
echoing the heart and human
need to be moved by sound.
Painting by Johann Carl Loth (circle of) (1632 - 1698) – Painter (German)Born in Munich. Dead in Venice.Located at the Palace Museum in Wilanów [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
White
Unopened mail on the counter, a meal half eaten sits on the table, fork frozen in position of the last bite. A world abandoned mid-sentence,...
-
Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
-
A year ago this May, in fact, upon this same very grey day- something came over me I found could say, in no other way but to portray, ...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...

No comments:
Post a Comment