You Bring Out The Music in Me

You bring out the music in me,
Songs sung under pouring rain,
my heart--- treble clef----
ladder inside chambers of memory .

You bring out the Metallica in Me.
A drinker and a lover,
hallucinogens; I love to cry.
The memories of brothers,
who in unison, fell and died.

You bring out the mute trumpet in me.
A chain, keeps me from blaring,
a mute trumpet I’m heard,
but,
never over bleeding drums, lonely clarinets, or tearful saxophones.
And when I die,
Raven will sing, “Nevermore!”
nothing more, a tempo, 208-260,life is prestissimo.

You bring out the composer in me,
every woodwind and brass under instruction,
every life followed by direction.
A baton floating in air,
rhythms with palpitating hearts.
A tempo, 168-208, perfect presto, in ¾.

You bring out half note beats in me.
The half quarter note,
You bring out the musician in me,
a bass clef-----a ladder----to end
the beat, a tempo 120-168, in allegro’s eternity.

You bring out the C chord in me.
Three strings picked,
index caressing first fret, second string,
just as me you'll never share in melody.

You bring out the 4/4 time in me,
perfect tempo,
Saint's Holy Oil,
annointing me.

Reviews

[Jeanette]

Oh the music!! Says more than words, pictures, gestures... though it's made up of all those things. Music and myself, are intimately involved.. =)

[keisher]

I really like this poem. Where do you get your inspiration from??

[deeps]

I like this, I think it is very well written.