that boy
he could play more notes
than a head could fathom....
I felt like Lucy stuffing her mouth,
shoving chocolates inside her blouse
as the relentless candy rolled down
the conveyor belt
I pictured floating chords
that I tried to gather in my arms
pull them in tight to my chest
so I could have a few more minutes with them
maybe nudge a few into my rib cage
'cause I was about as porous
as I had ever been
that music was doing something to me
that could not be ignored
I felt like Jeff Goldblum
turning into The Fly
yes yes, that's it !....the sound was Fly
that sound was definitely... Fly
and I was plastered to the scenery
a rapt bystander on a random city sidewalk
Fly ( ode to a street musician )
Fly ( ode to a street musician )
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Re: Fly ( ode to a street musician )
* *
Doll, you may have found a place of rest but I'm still on the trail.
Re: Fly ( ode to a street musician )
Good capture.
Re: Fly ( ode to a street musician )
Love the 2nd stanza here especially- trying to reel in the sound, take it inside. Music is funny for me. Sometimes it hits hard- out of nowhere- and suddenly just having it "in my head" isn't enough- I find myself humming (quietly).
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