Friday, April 4, 2014

Poetry Project, day 4

Classical Music.
Not a fan?
That I just don't understand.
It's way with sound,
power and light,
helps the soul get through the night.
So much we feel
cannot be described;
words alone have often told lied.
I write one down,
infinite meaning that we speak of.
But play a note,
loud or soft:
and master's skill will not be scoffed.
I used to think that
words reigned superior:
all other art was good, but inferor
to the love I had
for the written word;
the beauty and love that they always stirred.
But now it seems
I'm not too sure,
the lines themselves are a constant blur.
This poem for instance,
is fairly pitiful,
but the music I hear is just so mystical.
I can see without sight
a story unfold,
and without one word, without being told.
Sometimes I wish
I could reach out and touch,
the joy that I feel, that I just value so much.
When the notes come together
in just the right way-
transport you from here, to a place you can't stay. 
The Galápagos Islands
to war torn everywhere,
to the middle of space or a lover's mad-jealous glare. 
I'm going to stop
before I go on,
which would only bring a series of yawns. 
Classical Music. 
Give it a try. 
You have nothing to lose; the future is nigh.


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