Every word behind my chest,
Desires freedom,
Tonight.
Alas, once again,
I’ve censored who I am,
And forced reality to stop,
Immediately.
Leaving the ache placed,
Upon my breasts,
An endless continuation.
Suppression hurts,
Terribly,
Ceasing the pain,
Simple.
Yet, I refuse,
Leaving myself,
Paralyzed.
Sometimes my poetry is too revealing, so I fade before you, entirely too bashful to continue. Instead, I leave you this poem. I apologize.
Even the strongest of men
Will crumble
Choosing flight
Over fight
Who could ever blame them?
Life growing
Through her
Gently
Slightest twists
Fleshing out
Encompasses
Claiming possession
Surrounding each curve
Of that which is her
She: adorned with brio
By his verdurous abstraction
Audacious bliss
Handel’s Christmas (12 guitars!) — Vince Carrola: http://youtu.be/kDnscekmpMU
The final weekend before Christmas and we’re all scurrying around trying to put the bows on those last few gifts. Maybe you’re succumbing to the fact that you’ll need to stand in one more line at the mall. Just so the smile you’re hoping for, on Christmas morning, arrives when your child opens their final gift. I’m reflecting on the reason for the season this morning, and as I do, once again Duke’s music fills my ears.
The professor, is a truly gifted guitarist, clarinetist, composer and arranger, who is finally sharing his talent on WordPress. Enjoy.
Oh, and if you find yourself in line somewhere play this on your phone and sing along. Give the gift of this arrangement to those in a hurry and remind them to slow down. Breath. Relax. Enjoy.
He combines, effortlessly, two of my favorite midnight service songs, found in thousands of churches on Christmas Eve, in this video shot in Pittsburgh. I can hear the choir already. I cannot wait.
Have a great weekend!
And Duke, thank you for such a lovely reminder. I know you give me a pretty hard time and I get quite the smiles making you blush, but I knew you were someone special a year and a half ago. I sensed it in your writing.
Your talent is easily found as clear, concise and encouraging, which not many writers accomplish after a lifetime of creating, so you’re way ahead of many. I’m thankful to know you and to call you my friend.
Now, y’all sit back and be AMAZED!!
Vince J. Carrola has been hiding far too long here on WordPress. He’s a musical genius, my friends. At the age of three he began playing guitar and by sixteen had arranged, composed and published his first book of rearranged classics. His music can be found on YouTube.
Before I go, if that wasn’t enough, Vince and his team have been working all year on perfecting the art of producing videos, and it shows. They have come so far this year. I could go on and on, but I’ll stop so you all can enjoy their talent.
Honestly, there isn’t anything this man cannot do, of that I’m certain. Blessing to you, always, Duke.
Merry Christmas!!
Moms, unlock your daughters. You want this gentleman playing guitar by your tree, I assure you.
(He’ll kill me for that…but it’ll be worth it.) *sparkles*
Your resonant voice,
the confidant reassuring breath,
which strives to calm me.
Do you ever have moments where you find yourself wishing, if even for a few brief seconds, you would’ve shared a sunrise like this with someone special?
Me, too.
When an unexplainable dawn leaves me breathless, this is when I need you the most. You could use your words to help me see her beauty, possibly the greatness that could come from today.
Instead, I’ll leave you with this:
A breathless dawning
Winter doesn’t look the same
Take me to the snow
She’s beautiful, isn’t she,
Rare, flawed, vintage pink,
And willing.
Intricate dressings, securely draped,
Essence beckons,
A gorgeous masquerade.
More than anything,
Your persuasion,
Motivates her, always.
Peeling back her layers,
Truth is conceived,
She’s no beauty, she’s a dream.
Longing poetry
Encourages my heart to beat
Evidently, written for me
Or so I’ve imagined
Lost inside a busy afternoon, yet
Aching for your five ‘ o’clock shadow
Clearly, she’s best suited
Like this
Content, being herself
Wary of your destined flow,
Not knowing if you’ll return,
To me, is terrifying, always.
Peace soothes,
My mind
My desire
My heart
In your absence.
The deep impression of your approach,
Breathes into my obedient soul,
When I’m quiet enough to honor you.
Preparing for tonight,
Charcoal dress pressed,
Shoes red, high.
Silver jewels, a favorite,
My simple black scarf,
Crimson curls pinned back,
Yet teasing my neck.
Christmas party, downtown,
Minute Maid Park, banquet.
Will smell of testosterone,
And weaken my reserve,
Of this, I’m quite sure.
Best smile upon my face,
Dimples ready to play,
You’ll have it no other way.
Final wish for tonight,
Small of my back,
And your hand in place.
Quick look into my mirror,
Remembering who I am,
Just a small town girl,
Confident, yet amazed.
Rare, pleasing beauty
Among the masses, she beams
For him, anything
out there you’ll know
won’t you?
how to navigate
through the waves
of me.
a tempest brews
and you soothe
it seems.
but what will I do
to help you?
humbly,
how do I handle,
every thought found,
deep inside?
born,
without a voice,
kept hidden,
under my control.
bundled,
tightly upon,
my breasts,
ache, alive and well.
slowly,
pushing my mind,
irrationally so,
towards giving up.
aware,
i’m only one,
emotional woman,
who’s unworthy.
mindful,
i’m gravitating,
towards views,
full of clutter.
asking,
to sit beside,
material rubble,
for peace.
Forever
Unlimited time
Emerald in color
Ivory tips
Blossoming
Watch her
Climax
Deliberately
Lay
Our melodic ears
Towards cusping water
Allow
Curious eyes to chase
Clouds in a crystalline sky
Force
Our zealous hands
Into pillows
Relax
trust an ending,
with the spirit, used
believing in beginnings,
yes, we must
I see color
Ultramarine sea
I see stark
Slated for make believe
I see growth
Supple from underneath
I see lonesome
Trees relinquish leaves
I see beauty
Fairness, like I’ve never seen
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 