Free verse № 62563
The Mellifluous Sound of God: Musical Eden
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I wish to tell the story
explaining the day I experienced
the joy of Musical Eden.
It was a golden afternoon
when I stood in that garage,
its air warm and humid.
The stage had a drummer and one guitarist
in front of a microphone. He held something
that he called a piano guitar, a secret instrument.
It was an electric guitar with
piano wire tuned perfectly
to sing the exquisite melancholy
of the supernatural.
It was a drug synthesized into sound,
delivered via the ear to be absorbed
by my brain.
Emotions of a thousand different spirits
coursed through my mind, flashing images
across my souls theatre.
Phantasmagoric reality was injected
into my universe, the melody crafted
by a mad genius who studied the religion
of sound.
This music seeped into the ground
and breathed life into the dead,
causing them to dance in their
pine coffins that rot for the rest
of time.
Earth holds decomposing flesh;
hidden pain desperately buried
in an attempt to forget what was lost.
The singer was unreal, a holy ghost
scorching the dreams of sleepers
that try to escape their world.
He was a messiah preaching with
rock and roll, folk, and techno disco,
radically broadcasting the human spirit
in waves fluxing through the air,
delivering the words of the wise,
the understanding of knowledge sought
but not studied.
16 comments
"exquisite melancholy of the supernatural" / 10
in term of poetry, concise is always good. (maybe lyrics are the exception). MAKE EVERY FUCKING WORD COUNT AND STOP BEING SO GODDAM LAZY.
end of rant.
i enjoyed writing it, im happy with it, damn everyone else to hell, and thanks for again saying im lazy.. end of whine.
thanks for continuing to push.. end of expressing gratitude
Why dont you just stop wasting your time, and discontinue to jump at these cute fish lures of mine..
Why do you continue to comment anyway? i wonder.. is it to educate me? belittle me? simply to anger me perhaps? prove to the whole site that im stupid? (your a good politician)
Might it be a social masturbation of some sort? are you attempting to save me and show me the truth of jesus (god, i hope not)
just.. shhhhh shhh my sweet little child..
Loses it a bit with phantasmagoric though
It is prosey.. i have a problem writing in prosey fashion recently.. hrmm.. ill fix that soon enough. thanks.
You're absolutely right.
But what you lack is the uncompromisingly austere upbringing that was my priveledge. I am adept in my application of such words and phrases as mellifluous, xanthous, ruminate, maleficence, opprobrium, and "that would be an ecumenical matter", because they are not strangers to my daily vocabulary. You, on the other hand, wield the dictionary in much the same way a disabled wields an AK47 - as a strange, heavy object thrust into your hands by people who should have known better.
melancholy i knew when i was 10. Maleficence i learned in the 7th grade. Xanthous is also another word that i knew before discovering the dictionary.
pretentious? tsk. you fail you stupid arrogant fool.. you want to know why i even bothered to write this, with that big fucking show off title? so you can do EXACTLY what your doing now. i made myself a bet about whether or not id be correct about how you would react: ive won 80% of this bet.
The nice bit about the moon, that was also another production for you to yap about my use of a dictionary.. i shouldnt learn new words, or try using them? does it fucking matter? no. its just your cute way to show everyone that im all about big words and looking my best, with my hair gelled, my hands gloved, and my trusty dark brown leather jacket worn cool cat style.
who cares if your code of the gentlemans upbringing endowed you with the knowledge of nice lil words? lets speculate:
mommy spanked you each night if you didnt read 20 pages from the dictionary 10 times over. Right? daddy was never proud when his son wasnt ruminating about his vocabulary.. im sure he enjoyed spanking your bottom with a need to discipline an unworthy child.
obscure? no, not really.. its plain and simple to understand, really, its not that confusing.. your simply skimming over things and highlighting phrases and large words, like the good english detective that you are.
moon mystery/musical eden: pure fucking crap created to see how well i could predict your pathetic ranting.
my picasso pieces.. well those were works of love, and no, this doesnt mean that picking them apart will bother me darkie.
you wish to reveal the "secret" (im not hiding, i have no fear, expose all that you think ive tucked away into my closet of bones)that i write to prove that i can do it like a master.. your a moron.. i dont give a shit what you think, theres a slight few that have any effect on me, and i never let such influences do much imprinting, but i can do better acting than you, thats for sure.
Your the man who has something to prove.. a need to convince folks of my retardation, fraudulant wannabe writing, and brown nosing social attitude.. also that im a hypocrit. all these things meaning nothing, for you have gotten NOWHERE.. nada, zip, zero. your my guitar.. i pluck some strings, you make some noise.. add some drums played in a unharmonious manner, and we have your sideshow amusement english punk rock. bingo.
now (excuse my Good Will Hunting quotes) HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?
Is that why your obsessed with masturbation, so obsessed that you named yourself after your lover?
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