Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

To Listen

To Listen  I skipped every other song, brushing aside the lyrics scribed in MP3s, at my ear’s whim to dismiss  whichever ones I wanted. I was walking outside, so I needed beats, the kind compounded with stimulants, adrenaline, to spark my shoes to rebound off the concrete as if springing from a trampoline— I was trying to get a workout after all.  I turned the corner onto my street, readying my hands to pause the music, to wipe my sweat  and recede back into my house, subjected to an atmospheric beige, a poetically devoid space,  a television two napping parents and a microwave.  I reached the door, but I couldn’t go in, stopped, as if someone had grabbed my shoulders and yanked them backwards, pleading with my instincts to yield.  I sat down on the porch swing, sinking into the darkness of pause, listening more intently to the words rapped in my headphones, and for a moment,  I let the stillness rest, let my sweat dry on its own, and waited until the song reached its end before I went inside.

‘I hear your music and I’m listening. Thank you for sharing a part of your soul in your art.’ That’s what I’d say if I could tell anyone who has ever written a song how much I appreciate their work and their passion.

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Author:

Poetry and music.

6 thoughts on “To Listen

  1. As always, a beautiful portrayal. As the previous commenter said, this is the biggest gift anyone could give a musician. 🙂

          1. Definitely. It’s difficult because just a couple of days ago I was feeling on top of the world, and it kind of all came crashing down – but it’s so important to remember that it will be alright in the end.

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