Movie Scores

Remember back to when you were young. Sitting in the plush movie seats, tasting the buttered popcorn on your tongue, the moving pictures enrapturing you. But the one thing that never leaves your brain is the one thing that brings life to the movie. The music.

I recently created a new station on Pandora with some of my favorite movie composers. The whole idea of Pandora is to introduce you to new music, but music that is similar to the music you already listen to. A brilliant idea, in my opinion. I tend to overuse it. But it has introduced me to incredible composers and the music is just indescribable. I truly love music.

Though unfortunately I have a hard time making it. For the longest time I yearned to play an instrument well, but no matter how much I practiced it just never 'clicked'. I can sing rather well, in my honest opinion, but I can't write music. And I can't express myself knowing, 'I didn't write this'.

The one thing, though, that I can always turn to to vent in, is my writing. I love writing. I don't think of it as telling a story. I think of it as weaving a picture in the reader's mind with my choice of vocabulary, my syntax, my tone. I've developed so much over the years in my writing it is rather unbelievable. But I truly do pride myself in my writing.

(And how does this tie back to movie scores? Oh don't worry, I've got that covered. Just hold on.)

You may wonder what inspires me. Some writers get their inspiration from society, from nature, from inside of themselves. But the ink in my pen is music. And that is what I wish to create. A story as smooth and beautiful as music. Something that sticks in your mind forever.

I told you I would tie it back.

Go on with bravery and love.

It's quite lovely, actually

how I dream of you. I never miss a beat. The spirit of you swells inside of me, devouring my heart and pulling me down, down, into your love. And your hands are like the pianist's fingers upon the keys, the way you draw the music from my soul. And I beg you to play me, to wear down my keys.

But you've let me grow dusty. You never even bothered to draw the cover over my keys. I'm left in this small room, my only friends, the moon and the sun that glint off of my ebony shell. These friends, though loyal, fail to play me as you do. And I desire your skill.

Unfortunately, my lovely, you've taken up the violin.

poems poems poems

lovely
dainty
woman.
so fair
and so divine.
rip away the binds to my heart
the man that was rightfully mine.

though your skin is that of creme
and your eyes glow so green,
your beauty has wreaked havoc
upon my naive
innocent
life.

my brain is pounding
an alarm is sounding
to shove you out right now.
but if i did,
would he think to rid
of young tiny me?

so i draw the curtains closed
and my heart has been enclosed
in his palm.

and it stays,
all my days,
until he bids me doom.