Poetry Blogs (2017, Music )

Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #6 {His Rhythm}

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{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #6} {His Rhythm} 




His rhythm of

his songs played

like the sickest

twisted dead of a

deafening whistling 

whisper's through

the cold northern

lights that only

the animals could

hear that kept

them howling

by the bay from the

amusement of his

meaningless song

that continues to

play his sickened


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diary of the southern queenhumoroushumorous poemlieslifelivingmusicOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloveroutside inspirationpainquotesongsTina Gloverworldly inspirationwritingwriting poemswriting poetry

How Can I Keep From Singing

Spiritual Hymns

Are the essence of a highschool choir
That sings often the sounds of Queen in the style of acapella
But also the rolling notes of Ezekiel Saw the Wheel
And the thumping heart of Elijah Rock.


How Can I Keep From Singing
When piano pushed
And the opening notes gently pulled in, to meet a booming brillance
My life goes on in endless song
And I recall the disconnect...

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ArtConnor Lanneshigh schoolMusicNostalgiaNostalgicSinging


Angel to ghost 
I go 
the night cold 
heavy heart torn 
rain hails bones 
brutal ache my mistake 
always alone 
always alone 
trying trying 
to go back in time 
to a place in my mind 
paradise denied 
burning inside
blue ice fire 
cracks a pain so deep 
only sounds like these 
evoke awake demons 
buried brittle knees 
signal transmits 
a radio waves 
echo cellos past 

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Time is infinite now
music carries the essence 
of a soul like an echo inside
repeating rhythmically 
drumming through history 
thud thud thud comes the love 
blue red is my blood
blue was the colour 
I caught from above

like a train in my brain 
acid rain stains colour 
reclaims the lights flash 
either side a fairground ride 
alive inside my mind 
feels always like 
I'm crashing i...

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artist musingsInfinitymusictime

A Time When I Wasn't

A wistful vagueness presides over my aura

The night was clearer than ever

Now wasn’t the time,

Now I was headed to a service sublime

But do I regret these impressions viewed from my window?



This ‘ere song from a vintage past

It crooned of simpler days,

It blasted my hopes into the freezing air

Carried me back to a time that wasn’t there

And I couldn’t help ...

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 The bass guitar is not loud enough

 He explained solemnly

 Unless it rattles your cufflinks

 In the back row

 It's not concerned with melody

 Just there to add some body.


 That was a long time ago

 In our long hair days

 The next time we met

 His locks had disappeared

 Mine were slowly thinning

 I reminded him of his saying.



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David Subacchimusicpoetry

The Shield

How can I say how I feel,

Describe words to you that you will understand,

If I myself don't understand...


There are days I just want to scream.

When all I crave is to be heard,

For someone to simply understand how I feel.

Someone who grabs my hand without needing to be asked,

Simply because I need to feel the support.


It is so easy for me to say everything's okay...

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Your Tune.

In the creases of a crumpled T-shirt,
the darkening orbit of an orange pasta stain,
the unhinged playfulness of bright and living eyes…
the golden curls like mazes of cornfields – no way out –
The type you just want to twist around your finger –
I noticed you.
In the unrestrained laughter,
I would recall each word that tumbled from your lips
And hang on them, swing from them,
like branche...

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entry picture

frankness sharp as needle

sugar revolving undeniable 

rhythm of memory 45, 33

black and blue and rare purple

take me back to when heaven

was simple, happening, not free

but not framed, turntable.

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Mermaid Song

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O, mermaid of the moonlight,
You sang so sweetly in the
Midst of the lake. I recall
The music of your voice,
The freedom of your chords.
Vision of delight, you sat
Silhouetted against the moon,
Your hair waving in the spray,
Your breasts dancing with

The motion of your arms
As you played the sea lute.
Such a fragrant night you
Must have felt the urge to
Rise up from the depths
Of the...

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