Bellowed notes bounce from bristle to bristle on my broom

melodies get swept in the dust

Miss the dustpan and mellow the air

Mellow the air and mellow my mood

 

The beat sizzles and spits in hot cooking grease

stagnates in the hot oven air

then quivers in the rasp in my voice

 

Each lyric presses my voicebox

as the soles of my boots press the concrete

the rhythm latches onto my steps, each sway of my hips

adds a caramba, a salsa, a note of ‘upbeat’ to my mood

 

hummed notes are background music

to late nights doing homework

late nights fueled by coffee, rhythm, blues, jazz

I sing when I’m tired, happy, sad, mad

when I’m cleaning, eating, doing everyday task

 

I try and match every note , but never succeed

I don’t have to

I’m only really singing for me

This isn’t a show or shallow contest

 

Like reaching for the moon

and finding comfort in knowing I’ll always land among the stars

 

...My feather- light , twinkling stars

Forever welcoming stage lights

 

My dreams and daydreams are the stage

Melodies lose me in my own realm  

My audience of thoughts forgives every misstep and mistake

 

My voicebox gives me a type of bliss

it’s not a vain bliss

It’s not so much I can sing

it’s like the bliss of falling asleep

or watching swirls of magenta, lavender and baby blue in the horizon mix

mesmerizing, calming  

it’s a mirror

theres no simple color to it

it feels like everything

 

...It feels like everything can just be captured in one simple picture

one simple lyric, one simple moment  

like all of life’s problems can boil down to music and singing and sound waves

 

Sound Waves

still there but nonexistent

I love being there and non-existent

 

Sound waves

Heard, felt,  but not seen

The one thing we don't need proof they are here

we don’t need proof music can hold us,

proof it can comfort us

we just accept it  

free it from the confines of reality

and still believe in it’s beauty

we bask in it’s beauty

I bask in its beauty

… and bliss