Waiting for Our Violins to Play

Slow, steady, justified suicide of the soul. Mmm mmm good.

They are frayed and weather worn
but we cannot die without them
so we pull them over our bodies
and drink them down to our bellies
to keep them close

We have come undone in the most
poetic and epic of ways
and so we wait for our violins to play
dramatically, just for us

Again and again
we clog and clean out our wombs
and we dig the flesh from our bones

Bloated with our tendencies and disorders
we keep waiting for our violins to play
dramatically, just for us
to make our struggles known

We cannot choke on our frustrations
without emphasis
so we will go on waiting for the music
weeping beneath our reasons
until it comes

Reviews

[Arthur Crow]

Yes the message is clear, a brooding reminder of miseries tune.. Your talent to for word-smithing is obvious, very much enjoyed the artistic expression of this piece.

[Adrian K. Smith]

The first time I read this, I read it with a sarcastic air to it... almost a mocking tone, and I could not escape that. I pictured it as a short drama piece, a goth and an emo standing upon a stage, alternating as they speak each stanza, and attempting to add that much more melodrama than the stanza before. I pictured this so quickly and so solidly, I could not escape the image. Then I felt the need to try to read it differently, that somehow that in the way I was reading it; I was not doing it justice. As I paused for a sip of my soda, I realized something though.

That sarcasm, the mocking tone, that I felt; was not toward the act to take place. Rather it was the rather dramatic cry at life, offered with bitter mood - that I felt.

This simply led me to like it more...