The Musical Traveler

My father's been playing music for the last 40 some odd years. I've always admired him for it, and he gave me the gift of music, being able to play the guitar which I hold very close to my heart. This came to my mind as I watched him play. Even the imperf

 

 

6-17-08

Those measured imperfections took
me to a place for away...

His hands elicited expert movement
upon those strings, as if his life
story came back every time they touched

~

Bringing to mind that of amythyst
mysterious skies and indian tribes.
Warm tribal nights , where the
peace circle is everlasting, the
song never dies. Tranquil, careful
notes make their way across the sky

~

That of a wanderer is made
apparant in the physicalization
of those notes played. Carefully
stepping and savoring every
decision. The mistakes sound
beautifully intentional. Raw
emotional to the point of being
part of life.

~

The ticks of the rythmic movement
take me to the clockworksof his mind.
Intricate, rapid, racing. As if it never stops.
The only release being those strings
Those strings make everything so real.
They make the memory live forever on. Forever
echoing in the heart, forever living, forever breathing.
Forever

Author's Note

Just freelance imagery infused poetry.

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

This is superb...

The only release being those strings
Those strings make everything so real.
They make the memory live forever on.

I certainly found this part to touch my heart... I have always found that a certain song can carry certain memories in time and every time you hear it those memories are as fresh as yesterday.

I really love your style. I'll have to come back and read more.

[Lee E. Powell]

This was really awesome. My guitar is my lover and my heart aches when we are apart. This poem is a gift to all music lovers. It's that good!

[Jenna]

Oh this is very good. The best thing is I can picture it clearly in my head. Your very descriptive. And sense you are, reading your work people can picture it all in there head like a movie.
The thing that caught my attention was that is was about music. My dad played the guitar and I look up to him for playing because he is really good. I am not as good as he with the guitar but with the violin. My dad gave me the gift of music talent as well.

[Greystone]

It's very pretty, you know. I'm a singer myself, so I feel this (does that sound ghetto? Ah, well). This one, again, no rhyme scheme--I'm growing to like you more by the second, dear--and I actually like the layout, because you seem to have seperated things purposefully so they're considered more carefully, rather than squashed together. In this work, that works well to fulfill it's perspective. Well done!

Keep writing.