JOHN BELLION AND MY MUSES

in #poetry6 years ago

I have been getting John Bellion's music on my phone and he has been serenading me with words and sounds that feel new and old are the same time.


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photo by Free-photos on pixabay.


I like the way his words make me want to write something. I have always gauged a song's power by how much inspiration to write it gives to me and I can say that Bellion makes my imagination come to life. It is a beautiful thing, music, when done right.
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I am yet to write a piece of prose to the songs but I believe that I would create something beautiful if I try with such muses at my elbow. Music is something beyond awesome and it always feels right when people who know what they are doing are allowed to express themselves.

The verse below is unwritten as I write this. It will be written by the time I get to that point in this post in a few minutes. What I am going to write about, I don't know but i feel that it would be beautiful because I can feel the fire beneath my breast and I can see tendrils of lines snaking into being before me.
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INTERLUDE: THE SILENCE BETWEEN US

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There is a silence
That says everything about
What lies between you and me.
The distance between our hearts
Is a void that carries grief
Like a shroud and the death
Of all that we had birthed
Seem, with the time that has passed,
Better in truth than the life
We had pretended to have had.

We stare through each other's eyes,
Passed faces, ignoring the wrinkles
And the cold stare of memory.
We seek to know if we won
But all we see are barely hidden scars.
Though we hear the soft throb
Of victory's song pounding
Deep within our chests,
There's also an hollowness
To the song that thrums there;
The price, oh the price we paid.

I was told to stay away
But battlegrounds are powerful places
And your body and mine
Have fought battles dreadful enough
That they seek to haunt
The night of our dreams
Yet we are curious to see
What was broken in the war.

Your face turns away
To the sun's rays
And bitterness shrouds your profile
But I find beauty burning
On the surface of your shrivelled skin.
You do not see the sadness
Crumble the concrete of my face
And do you wonder ever
Why when you turn back,
I am long gone?

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I never really plan my poetry. I have become used to create verses in a whim but I have found myself in a kind of limbo. I can't work on a piece to get it to perfection. It is like publishing a video after a single take. I know that my poetry can be better with more editing and shaping but I think I lack that discipline.


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photo by Gadini on pixabay.


The problem is quite simple. I detest reading what I have written. I write something then I ignore it. Presently, I have over 100 poems that will probably never see the light of day because they need some brushing up which I have refused to give to them.

One day hopefully, I will be strong enough to go over old pieces and maybe a gem would come out of them, something beautiful enough to woo you.

If you have any idea of what I need to do to make those poems not end up in a figurative pyre, then do not hesitate to share with me. I would be very much in your debt.
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I am still listening to John Bellion's music and it is mostly fun. His words are quite deep and you are forced to think about stuff that you normally push into the darkness of your mind. I wonder what his inspirations are? I wish I could be that creative and be able to give this world poetry that would make people think. That would be a beautiful gift to have but what the hell, here's another verse for you.
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INTERLUDE: MUSIC IN MY BONES

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Blues bones tweedle
With guitar strings
And make something
Akin to music, beautiful.

Pop sockets lose
Cohesion and retention
And disembodied limbs
Tumble on dance floors
Like bowling pins, beautiful.

Reggae dread locks
Within chests of voiceless
Lips calling for equality and justice.
The beats fail to floor the world
But the drum throbs, beautiful.

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I don't think this second one did much justice to Bellion but then again I was no longer listening to Bellion's music. So I will let you judge which of the two poems is better.

I am on my way to a wedding. It's a Saturday and Saturdays are for weddings. Let's see in the evening life okay. Peace.


©warpedpoetic, 2018.

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