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SøułSurvivør Jun 2015
@---\---

i will hear
a classic piece
that my soul may rest
music soothes
the savage beast
which writhes
within my breast

the light begins
with violins
a lovely harpsichord
then came in
some flute!
woodwinds!
a winsome building chord!

finding my direction
back to a place that's fair
finding my connection
to a friend
who's there

finding my companion
in a friend who's free
music is the bastion

AND ALWAYS WILL BE


soulsurvivor
(c) 6/17/2015
Going to go listen to music
That always cheers me up!

@---\---
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe
Take This Kiss Upon THE Brow!
AND IN Parting From YOU NOW
Thus Much LET ME Avow-
YOU ARE NOT Wrong, WHO Dream
That MY Days Have Been A Dream
YET IF Hope HAS Flown Away
IN A Night OR IN A DAY
IN A Vision OR IN None
IS IT Therefore THE Less Gone?
ALL That WE SEE OR Seem
IS BUT A Dream Within A Dream.

I Stand Amid THE Roar
OF A Surf Tormented Shore
AND I Hold Within MY Hand
Grains OF THE Golden Sand
HOW FEW! YET They Creep
Through MY Fingers TO THE Deep
While I Weep- While I Weep
O Goodness! CAN I NOT Grasp
Them With A Tighter Clasp
O Goodness! CAN I NOT Save
ONE From THE Pitiless Wave?
IS ALL That WE SEE OR Seem
A Dream Within A Dream?

Written BY : Edgar Allan POE
Born January 19, 1809, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S. American short-story writer, poet, critic, and editor Edgar Allan Poe's tales of mystery and horror initiated the modern detective story, and the atmosphere in his tales of horror is unrivaled in American fiction. His The Raven (1845) numbers among the best-known poems in national literature.
Your love is
White cotton

White
Pages
&
Ethno
Paganini

****** ink
Delayed

Day after Night
Night after Might

Notes Scribble
Notes Scrabble
Endlessly

As my heart
yearns for you

As
Automaton
Of Adriatic Zephyrs
Blow my dreams

Toward
Destined direction

Future Journeys
Rock boats

Bouncing
Soles
Are
All
Souls
Aboard
The Canues
The Cocoons
Of your sweetest heart

And you know what !?!
You proud male~sweetest man !

I would say to you :

Oh ~baby !
Let's mount that train !

Let us Play Again !

Along the strange cocoa Coasts . . .
You can catch me there ~
Dreaming of your
Dreamy
Affection
_ _ _ _

Nature
Beautifies Everything !

Your
Life is packed

With pickels
&
Charming
Postcards

Glued on your
Baggage Honey Bears
&
Beavers
And Native Horses
Are not Badgers
&
Empty beaches
Are not what they seem !

She said
Darling !

You said
She said !

Love us !

And she
Is
Sheer
Eloquent
Beauty

A
Ga~seele

And You ~
Handsome Mind

Al-Ghazālī
At Might

Sombre butterfly
In this Night
~~~
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
~~~
For My Lover Apr 2015
A hot toddy…a hot bath
Is the way she drew me home
To the steamy waters of love
All covered with foam

My Nymph of Nysa in white garments as tight as skin
Revealed piercing and protruding ******* within

With these bedazzled ******* all a glow
She led me to her fountains below

“Lay in my waters so I may bestow
Oil to your muscles from crown to toe”

Though weary from tumultuous day
Healing hands restored strength vigor to play

“Are you able Captain to fill my folds
So I may howl like the Sirens of old?”

Rising like Poseidon out of the surf
I placed her on my four columned berth

Opening wide her ivory legs she called for my girth
“Come, My Captain unload your treasures and bring forth great mirth”

A hot toddy…a hot bath
Is the way she drew me home
To the steamy waters of love
All covered with foam
Grame Rabbit Mar 2015
Attentive student of the songs of birds,
    No beakèd beast hath e'er more sweetly trill'd
A pair of notes or call'd in major thirds
    Or minor with musicality more skill'd.
Adaptive linguist, practic'd in the tongue  
    Of wingèd feather'd creatures, thou hast writ
Into "The Birdsong Songbook" songs unsung
    By birds which yet harmoniously fit.
And though the book began in higher throats
    Diversely tun'd by Nature's artful hand
Ere measur'd were the times and tones of notes,
    (Which often rest them now upon a stand),
Its finest lines (o'er which I now do rave)
Witness thy penmanship on every stave.

^ ^
L Nicole Jan 2015
the thing about me is that i am a dreamer
i imagine far away coasts and stormy seas
in my bed while listening to fantasia on greensleeves

i imagine i have it all
being charmed by the prince of the renaissance
a forbidden love between big and small
in my bed listening to 12 danzas: oriental

but i suppose time is fading for us dreamers

the coasts are fading and the storms will reign

for we learn to remember

they are only dreams and dreams will come again
was listening to classical, im such a dreamer
Ronald J Chapman Dec 2014
Hope!

In the far off land of Dae-han-min-guk, on a brand new day.

An angel's fingers dance and prance on the ivories.,
So confident the way she plays.

Like magic! Sending the gift of music to me flying though time and space.,

The music flowed out of the piano like birds singing good morning new day,

Amazingly!

Thousands of piano notes,
Filled with elegance and charm travel to my ears.,

This angel sent to me a gift of hope today.,

I have never heard or seen such a wondrous thing,
I must be traveling through a beautiful dream...


© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
I wrote this piece to honor the wonderful young Korean
composer and pianist Chanmee Yang.
Ronald J Chapman Dec 2014
Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!

Worth more than diamonds and gold.
Fingers float above a river of piano keys,
Fingers play music that sounds sweeter than bird's song.

Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!

God sends His glory of song to these fingers.
Fingers play with much love and devotion for God,
Fingers battle summer's Cicada hum and afternoon fatigue.

Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!

Worth more than diamonds and gold.
Fingers of mystery; which bring light, hope and peace to all.
Fingers accept the challenge of writing new song.

Fingers so beautiful and precious.
They are priceless!

Copyright © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Words dedicate to the young Korean composer/pianist Chanmee Yang.

In the land which The Lord gave
http://youtu.be/2yFdpVMlXzk
While sitting here one sunny day
my favourite music started to play
It started soft and grew in sound
when the ***** boomed around
Emotions running high and low
while the sound of music ran its show
The sound of brass echoes through
with string quartet making things anew
The concert hall is filled with tone
chilling you right to the bone
the audience goes wild at the end of the show
and maestro conductor takes his bow
for the encore there's the sound of Bach
the audience leaves for now it is dark!
Dawn of Lighten Nov 2014
Hollowed within the frozen finger tips,
as each stroke of the key vibrates a crisp C.

The piano home key that resonates the beginning,
and the place of birth of most classical music.

Then the C chord echoed with E and G,
while the journey read like a journal.

So it stood as the progression of time,
like the life force intertwined with each notes.

Where does your hand take you to the next step of life,
as you create the next stroke of your dream song.

Hallowed within the frozen finger tips,
and the final song is the end of life.

Make your perfection of music,
as if you can no longer play a next tune.
I am always reminded the life is bitter sweet,
and tomorrow may never come,
or you may never see that one person once again!
Recommend playing BWV 875 as to set the mood,
and yes those of you actually took Piano and know Bach's work would know it typically starts in D Minor in Piano.
Originally was meant to be played with harpsichord,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-xUow2aGKM
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