Saturday, October 6, 2012

beat-up-old guitar

her fingernails were chipped and her fingers were hardened
from hours of struming on her beat-up-old guitar
sitting on street corners with her case wide open
and empty.
her clothes rested on bones with skin stretched tight
and her shoulders were slumped
but her eyes were alive with the music she was making,
she couldn't express herself in any other way than
her homemade songs and beat-up-old guitar.

the old abandoned ferris wheel

[inspired by this video -  by John Green]
they were screaming out to be heard,
voices pushing against the old abandoned ferris wheel
screaming, but only sounding in the soft wind
that moved them from silence into sound, pressing them
against the old metal carriages that once held
their laughing children.
they were screaming for redemption, for revenge
on the old rotting wooden steps
and the man who left it all behind,
confined to a prison cell,
letting their children's joy rot away
with the old wooden platforms.
the only way they could make it run
was by screaming into the wind
and hoping that it would push them with
enough force to make the old abandoned
ferris wheel
move again.

the words are singing

these words are singing through my mind
like your voice used to create beautiful melodies
out of almost nothing,
guitar in hand you were
so now that you are off in the world
discovering yourself,
i just let my mind sing for you to fill up
that empty space where your music used to be
and i write lyrics for you, for songs that only i
will ever hear.
now i've got my own guitar in hand, i've got
words in my head that are singing and
i've got the voice to sing them
so the songs that i've written that you will never hear
can be heard by the ones who have words singing
in their heads too.