violin
Learn more about other poetry terms
the echo of strings
from the busy street it rings
as rosiny dust fills the air
a melody, calm, slow, almost still
a lone pigeon stops to stare
I've felt only sadness all my life
I play the violin so I don't feel the strife
Its wooden veneer hides my pain
And the bow glides across the violins' vein
Such a beautiful sound it emanates
So I'll play my violin
A scale, G scale, D and E
Begins caving.
Up and down the staff
I'll go
As the oceans flood and flow
As the world is burning, burning
I will play what I'd been learning.
Going through the scales
That I remember so well
The callouses on my fingertips
There since childhood
You always remember your first violin
The squeaky strings
And stretched horse hair
G D A E
The strings that tie me to my happiness
Lives on my 2005 American Treasure
The shining wood as rich and brown as my skin
The bow hair that is as strong as my hair
As strong as my passion and love
Polished wooden boards
A bow string of fine horse hair
Across the metal string
Release the rich sound
Sing, cry, roar, whisper, scream sound
Breathe, speak, and tell us
The say you need food,
They say you need water,
But is that really all you need?
Without those things, living is harder.
Starting violin at age 9
it was just practice all the time
A piece of wood so finely tuned,
Vibrating strings tightly wound,
Strands of horsehair stretched so tight,
Oh, how I find so much delight!
Making music from the heart,
With delicate fingers
An ancient song is woven from the soils of melancholy and ambition
Notes articulated each to their own
Black ink expressed with charisma on the white parchment
She plays a love song to the waves
as they gently kiss the sand;
She plays a waltz to the palm trees
as they dance in unison;
She plays a lullaby to the setting sun
My name is the syncopated beat
Of a dotted eighth note, sixteenth note
Rocking like a boat on windy waters
My laugh is the swoop of glissando
Sometimes a delicate slide
As I pick up my violin,
And rosin the bow,
I feel ready to let the music free,
One small note,
Then a scale,
One by one,
The notes fly,
And when the last note turns to mute,
Befriended street lamps' static humTimed steps slashed through electric buzzFled from the dawn's grey stainchased night with anxious breath erupting
so treacherous is thismusic and its blissso hopeful was II would never trysomething to shareis always theresomething to fearis always herewhy tell if we knowit's been a show
Music might help with it's melodies,
However it is still has no effect,
Still there are no remedies.
Just songs to select.
Some might say it is a cure.
Some might say it is a place.
i met an ivory-toothed monster
he said "hello" and sang some notes
i found comfort in his beautiful tone
i found comfort in the things that we wrote
i remember his ebony bones
While walking past your dim lit window,
I see you on your tippy toes,
A violin in hand.
You sway to unheard rhythms,
Songs which I would die to know.
Flash back, a solo in the Hall.
Fingers dancing up and down your smooth neck
Bow gliding across your strings
Sweetly playing the most beautiful song
Starting at near silence
Slowly getting louder and louder and louder
And faster and faster
My love...
Your eyes strum compositions too complex to ever interpret with harmonious strings... rainbow violins, played by cosmic kings
You... are a musical piece too delicious to swallow
Guitars made out of chocolate...
