
Deafening silence holds the moment
as the absence of music rattles you.
Without warning, the music begins
as a jolt takes your senses away.
All around, you feel the vibrations
of melodious cascading sounds.
Poetry | Stories | Photography

Deafening silence holds the moment
as the absence of music rattles you.
Without warning, the music begins
as a jolt takes your senses away.
All around, you feel the vibrations
of melodious cascading sounds.
We were so modern
Lace gloves, balloon skirts, wild hair
Now, it’s Gold FM
The forest is full of the sounds of snow-covered trees, scurrying creatures, and the hoot of an owl.
By the lambent glow of the lamp, a witch walks along carrying a song to the trees, the snow, and the Earth.
As she walks, trees bow, creatures dance, and the owl nods.
Howling through the houses,
insect music plays us a song.
The windows rattle and shake,
fluff balls whoosh from hiding.
The clouds move undecidedly,
sun, grey, sun, grey, sun, grey.
We have a lazy mixed-up day,
undecided about what to do.
Clouds of fresh grey days
A heated house feels too hot
Rain music playing
A wild punk rocker,
rage and riot in the house,
solitude rebel.
Exhaustion.
Flicking in and out of consciousness,
my lips feel numb.
Usual noises sound bombing loud,
forgetting the time.
I become a melancholy masterpiece,
a sad classical song.
Another classic.
Songs playing along the road,
dying leaves moving.
You invited me to take a voyage on the notes you love.
We journeyed together, listening to the way songs changed over time; we embraced our favourites and kept an open mind.
Now, I remember you by a series of your favourite songs, which I sometimes play alone.
Echoes of this land
blood, bone and broken dreaming
A song we know plays