reverbs of rhythm surround me, and
the aftermath of melodies float – circling my existence.
my thoughts are still, as my fingers
gently pluck the strings of my fender strat.

Hearing the phantom calls of the organ,
And the soft murmur of the church choir,
Awakened from sleep with a feeling she couldn’t describe,
She got out of bed and followed it outside.
A careful mist lay over her small town, a light shield of protection.

A soldier dies on the battlefield on a beach in Normandy just barely old enough to shave and
just off papas knee buried in the ground with theses final words
[Chorus]
Dear ma and pa im doin fine here overseas I send my love from me and John and the

The lovely tune sounding brilliantly through the air
Wonderful feelings as the clear notes catch
The song shines and gleams, its rays golden and fair

Who dreams?
Who dares to enter such a realm?
Visions, fleeting,
Escaping with the waking flutter,
Living on bated breath
And translucent promises of
A world all your own;
A world anew.

For months, I’ve been waiting for this day. Not only is it the first day of

summer, but it’s also the day I will get to see some of my favorite bands. I

imagined May thirty-first a million different ways, and hoped most for a nice,

Mental Silence

Physical Noise

“Click Clack Clickity Clackity Click Click Clack”

The Blue Switch Thermaltake Poseidon Z Mechanical Keyboard speaks a special language to me

A language that is only understood by a certain herd of people

The curtain rises,
anxiety and nervousness,
but the nerves vanish.
The lights hit me,
a warm and incomparable sensation.
Lines once memorized,
forgotten.
Few moments of panic are gone,
it’s just me and the music.

It’s hard to find who I am.
I know this could take long.
What sets me and others apart?
Where do I choose to stand?
I want answers to appear like the bang of a gong.
Reaching down into my heart,
or searching up above.
Finally at last, I find a song.

Standing alone, solo
In the darkest shadows
She would pour her forte emotion into piano whispers
Although she is afraid now, her goal never blurs

my fingers rest above the piano
and their shadows trace my presence
upon its ivory white keys. i
inhale, my fingers rising gently, and i
exhale, pushing into the keys,
ringing several notes at a time.
if i press with more force, i’ll bring about

The world of song is like a gentle stroke of a paint brush on a canvas creating what ever beautiful creation you desire.  

I awaken you from your slumber,
as I slide you out of your safe, velvet bed.
I ask you to help me play the tunes
that dance around in my head.
I taste the sweet cleanser that resides on your reed,
as I dampen it, 
oh, ever so carefully.

To my vocal chords ring
WISHIN’
That you could be me
You fall for me like Autumn leaves
I am pollen in the Spring
You love me, but I am your allergy

Trembling fingers, and one deep breath.
Eyes closed as the tips of his fingers
Grace the smooth edge of the ivory washed keys.
And the notes on the page jump out at him –
Decrescendo here! Forte there! A trill now!