14 Years: Nostalgia

This is the first time I've written a poem in about 3-4 years and it has to be listened to the Fat Jon track , 14 Years, for the whole bang. Peace!

The quaint sound of a broken record permeates the room,

Its chicago jazz dancing across like a debutante searching for a groom.

The reverberations puncuate my ear, searching

for a cerebral bank of memories

The trigger sets off a forest of sepia toned feeling,

With falling autumn leaves hung in suspense in the eternity of mind.

I walk through my mind's eye and touch the blue and white ceiling

of clouds; my hand caressing their warm innocence inside.

I dive into the rush of calm nostalgia,

Swimming in a rouge ocean of tender

Romantism. I stop and float into the cerulean depths of meloncholy

Drifting to the bottom, looking for the tranquility,

With an anchor weighting for the moment.

A dark bed bursts, body flung up and a whisk of wind!

The scent of the gale generously gliding over

Pulling -- into a kaleidoscope of sound

With the echo coating the apoethetic snow-capped mountains, green vistas and golden deserts.

The cosmic rhythm guides me freely, Inviting me, before the eyes open

And the broken record has started again.