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Open Poetry #46
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Gooey Music
| Open Poetry #46 |
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Gooey Music |
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rvall New Member
since 2010-10-21
Posts 8 |
Slowly, poured into the room as we drink it up, like honey for our ears. I get drunk on everything about you, Are you, bottle shaped to hold, The viscous music filling us up ever so slowly? Almost off beat, almost the same rhythm, Almost perfectly in sync with the bass inside us. We are syrup being poured out From the composers metronoming fingertips, We endlessly crash with each other, making our own music, following the rhythm As we reach our destination, The narrow cup on the bottom. But it isn’t about filling the same space in the end. Its about the ride down, free falling. We are the new instruments to this old song. Placing my hand here sends a slow, gooey, jellylike Visible vibration through you; almost as if you are dancing To the music I’m producing on your body. You are my living, breathing, dancing guitar. You produce beautiful music, I play your sensitive skin sensually, so slowly, so in sync it seems As if you receive my strum almost instantly. But we both know it feels like an eternity for the music To reach our ears when it comes out of us. Its not about the noise that is heard, Nor is it about the music that is played through us, It is about practicing an instrument that learns from us As we learn from it. Our hearts have their own pace. But now, even our red blood cell wants their turn Closer to the skin, to feel this music being made. But they are holding their breath, much like us. So they rush back to the heart, who is drumming them to his beat, and take another deep breath, So they can rush to the fingertips To almost catch a glimpse of the music being made outside. My senses are becoming confused. My eyes can hear the candlelight Dripping off your bare body. My skin can taste your lips, The closet it can get to a kiss back. I thank all of them because without them I could never hear, see, taste, our music together. Each time is almost like a new song. Or is it that we forgot the words and the notes to the last one? Still we are the same instruments, Just with more experience than the last time And less experienced than the next time. |
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| © Copyright 2010 Ricardo Vallejo - All Rights Reserved | |||
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
This is so romantic, and so nicely done. You've made quite an entance to these blue pages, and I like your style. Welcome~~ |
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Mysteria 
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Fantastic, and loved these lines: Still we are the same instruments, Just with more experience than the last time And less experienced than the next time. Welcome to Passions and just a little thing I noticed for your revision. I think you mean closest, in this line  The closet it can get to a kiss back. Words are weapons, toss them with care. |
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Brad Majors
since 2001-04-03
Posts 2647Georgia |
Beautiful sweet piece |
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s1nfully_1nn0c3nt Senior Member
since 2003-10-26
Posts 1105Watertown, NY |
My eyes can hear the candlelight Dripping off your bare body. My skin can taste your lips, I love the word play here. Welcome to PIP! Enjoyed this.-Trina. |
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ethome Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858New Brunswick Canada |
Using music is a great vehicle to get this romance across......very enjoyable read! Eric |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Welcome to Passions. Please check your email for a Very Special Greeting! " It matters not this distance now " Excerpt, Yesterday's Love |
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