The strains of piano
drawn over weeping
Your fingers
running
the dance of song
thin and delicate
they press
to caress the keys
into acquiescence
Each note hovers
a quavering question
You draw the limp day into sound
raise the fronds of what was once
and should now be
And
I will unwind in forgetting
a fallen leaf
soaring on the song
swirling random design
A fae breeze to lift
and release
seasons caught in the sun on your hair
reasons left far behind
in the arguments we almost gave voice
but then
defused with the snuffing crush of our fingers
Linking into skin and eyes
sinking beneath resistances
to seek
solace in harmonies
Sing with me
the chorus of caress
the song of flesh
You have tapped the last note
to float towards me
in the suggestion of
yes
4 comments:
mmm, something of a change of direction in the end of this. I didn't see that coming. It starts off quite sad feeling.
Yeah, I went back to an old habit of mine, listening to a song while writing, and letting the words come automatically instead of designing the poem, when I want to write, but cannot shape it, I do this sometimes, the music draws it out for me, although, it will meander and change in tone depending on how the music affects me. I call it emotowriting
It can be very cleansing *smile*
I've tried many times to write the way music makes me feel, but I can never get it quite right. All I seem to end up with are a lot of dumb, flat poems about music. Once or twice I got close, but never really got it right ..
It requires a complete giving over Moon, letting yourself go to the music, and its not easy to do, its almost a form of meditation, you have to drop all restraints and just feel the music..
sounds weird
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