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.