My veins vibrate like piano chords
Soaking, dragging, my sandy strings of sediment into oceans of sentiment
Flooding every form of creation
Embellishing senses like melodic sentences
See
Sounds
They are aesthetic
It makes up my chromosomes
It's genetic
I'm close to synthesthetic
Sounds surrounding me
They're broken down, synthetic
Music found me
Dropped in a world beyond any of your wildest dreams
Wilder than most of the fantastic fantasies your brain can conceive
While you daydream through AP Psychology
I paint melodious strokes and
Revolutionary quotes through
Brass plated notes on blank minded canvases
A stroke here and a stroke there but it's
Important to leave space
I drag my feet because it reminds me of paint brushes on snares
Car horns harmonize dissonant chords
Engines rattle meters like beads on swinging cymbals
I don't hear train tracks the same way you do
Helicopters chop up rhythms
I count my days on my back
I am my own soundtrack
A movement in a lifelong suite
First forever falling gracefully
And floating tastefully
Then stretching slowly through crescendos
Building colossal monuments of ecstasy
Don't ask me why I can't stop singing to myself
Don't ask me why my fingers never stop moving
Don't ask me why sometimes I hear you but can't listen
My world is made of bouncing rhythms and traveling pictures
Sounds pervade senses
Relentless, intenseness, essence left defenseless, since the emergence of His presence
Bar mitzvahs like artists grasp instruments
My rabbi is Miles Davis
He asked for my repentance in a silent way so that my handcuffs remain past tense
Reckless confessions of adolescence
Infinitely sentenced to be incarcerated by ledger lines
Back of the blue and white bus
Weed smoking kids
But of course, corpses that never breathed art before are forever reeking of remorse for pledging allegiance to ignorance and pricey pristine politicians
Demeanors of indifference
How many presidents were musicians?
People aren't blind when it comes to politics, they just don't listen
Listen, then you can see
Tapestries of righteous vixens and revolutionary blacksmiths
Banging brass backs on bruised blue and purple ignorance
I once was lost
But now, I'm found
Was blind
But now, I see
Music found me