Two cats

Two cats play piano;
Soft paws on ivory keys
Stumbling into unintentional melodies.
Whiskers tickle thick chords
As hammers hit hard harmonies.

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Saba

 

I want to write you songs

I often write you poems, but I want to write you songs.

Simple syllable structures do not adequately capture your complexities.
The staccato of careful couplets cannot convey your dulcet dynamism.

I would sing to you in bird squawks and animal growls;
My shy tongue unable enunciate your beauty.
Even in song, I would fail to articulate your significance to me.

You are pure symphony.
An orchestra would better capture the melodic cacophony of your perfect contradictions.

I would transpose words for notes and beats;
Encode emotion in a worthier form of art.
I would write refrains for us to hum together;
A new lexicon of love.

I want to write you songs but instead I write you poems

Knowing words alone, no matter how carefully arranged,
Will never quite be enough.

[13/05/20]

Rain sounds

I play rain sounds

Hoping for the ingress to flood
The echo chamber between my headphones.

It’s raining outside.

But that rain doesn’t feel as real as this
High-fidelity electric downpour.

[24/09/19]

I want to write you songs

I often write you poems, but I want to write you songs.
I want to wrap you up in verse and carry you in cadence.
These simple syllable structures do not capture your complexities;
The staccato of careful couplets cannot convey your dulcet dynamism.
An orchestra could better capture the melodic cacophony of your perfect contradictions.
You are pure symphony.

No one was ever more deserving of a song.
And I would sing to you in bird squawks and animal growls
With a shy tongue unable to properly pronounce your beauty.
Just as scribbled poems don’t quite succeed
In expressing your significance to me.

Your song is one I’ve never heard before but that’s always been in my head.
Syllables seamlessly transition into notes, losing all verbal meaning;
Encoding emotion into a refrain that only you and I could know.
In your song, I find a whole new lexicon of love.
A worthier form of art.

You are song so vivid, passionate, poignant that I could paint it.
Eyes closed in intuition
Deeply, innately, understanding your rise and fall.
Your tuneful discordance.
Majors and minors perfectly palatable to me
As I traverse your flats and sharps.

I want to write you songs.
Instead, I write you poems
Knowing that words alone, no matter how carefully arranged,
Are never quite enough.

[29/12/18]