Lovelorn Poet in Washington, DC: The Music Is Beautiful

The Music Is Beautiful
Missed Connections in Washington, DC

Listen… feel… drink in the sound of the rhythm, the pulsing of the beat matched to the pumping of your heart, the rising tempo coursing through your arteries as each note flows through the pathway of your ears and swirls down into you pouring into you in a crashing crescendo of meaning. Ride the melody, be transported into the music, feel the fresh raw pleasure of new lovers embracing between the notes, taste the moment sharply on your lip as the beauty of existence flows across your consciousness and in this brief pause a portal is opened between your mind and the whole of existence – the meaning of self and of time cease to exist, in a rush all the pleasures and pain of humanity dance across your perception, the raw ache of loss, the soaring pleasure of white hot lust, and all the shades of gray between blend in a rush and the connection between yourself and the previous generation and the previous and the previous opens and the illusion of separation between yourself and your fellow mankind disappears and existence flows through you unbidden – the stardust bits and pieces flowing through your cells flowing through myself as well, through us all in a steady stream of recycled building blocks backwards and forwards through the illusion of time. The current moment ceases to exist in this engulfing perception of what it means to exist, to pass briefly across this stage. Softly you breath in the air from thousands of years ago and peer upward at the stars from Plato’s skyline and feel the rhythm of the music in sync with your heart and in tune with life itself… And as the slowing notes taper softly into an ending and your hands come back into focus the portal starts closing, the proximity of lost loved ones fading again into a crystalline memory, and you feel the gentle bump as the time machine touches down and you are transported back to the present. This is music, my lover and friend, my fairy ship into the universe.

 

Lovelorn Poets Her Two Cents IconHer Two Cents

This might possibly be my new favorite song. :-) Have you grabbed the stardust and jumped on the fairy ship of the universe? What are you waiting for? It’s so much easier than we make it out to be. Oh happy day indeed!

Lovelorn Poet in Washington, DC: I Miss My City

Atmospheric Perspective

Atmospheric Perspective by David Gordon Whittaker

 

I Miss My City
Missed Connections from DC

It’s the walking mostly.
Wide expansive sidewalks frame blocks built for pedestrianism.
Many stay alive with people into the early morning.
DC is a city for walking,
and the short statured buildings let the sun shine on your neck while you do it.
I miss the restaurants, too: passionate inventive cooking, and ethnic richness.
I miss the women I met at bars, the bar food menus, the record fairs, the buses
and that fucking Metro when it ran on time.
I miss a newspaper that doesn’t suck and a collection of people that read it.
I miss quick wit and straightforward talk,
but the old saying goes,
you can never go home.

 

Lovelorn Poets Her Two Cents IconHer Two Cents
I’ve recently re-discovered the fun in preparing meals and navigating my way through discovered recipes. This new enthusiasm is greatly enhanced by a kitchen with more than a square foot of counter space and proximity to grocery stores offering food groups beyond beer and pre-packaged meals. Just thinking about the process of cooking ushers in happiness, so I set out to find a message paying homage to the romantic qualities of this activity. ~ Instead, I found my heart gravitating to this piece about the home you cannot return to. As I read our DC poet’s list of missed connections with their much-loved city, I also started a list about the city I used to call home. It’s amazing how the mind can suddenly create an emotional response for people and places you haven’t thought of in years. My buoyant cooking-inspired mood began to ebb until I made a realization – the last apartment I lived in before leaving, an amazingly crazy building with a melting chimney, karaoke drag queen, and a porch that fell off the building during a rain storm, had a 1930s style kitchen pantry. Cabinets painted white with large glass panels reached to the ceiling and the light made the dishes, glasses, and bowls look a bit prettier than they really were. My kitchen now is the kitchen from that time. It’s a different era, but the light and white and glass are all there. And the dishes still look pretty, too. Whether we realize it or not, little bits of history travel.

 

Missed Connections in Washington, DC: Life In Uncharted Territory

Lovelorn Poets and Ben Lee

Musical Missed Connections

Life Is Uncharted Territory
Missed Connections in Washington, DC

Life is uncharted territory.
It reveals its story one moment at a time.
(trying my best not to confuse)
I can’t help but love you.
I lived a very transitory existence these past months,
and you were always on my mind.
I never let go.
That being said I want you to be happy,
and for your own well-being/sanity it’s probably best you not get mixed up with me.
But if you’re ready for another adventure…
Adventure is worthwhile in itself.

One Year Ago: TG: Missed Connections in Albany, NY

Lovelorn Poets her two cents iconHer Two Cents from the Missed Connections Chief Bottle-Finder:
So what’s the better choice: a life of adventure or a life of stability? Isn’t that the conundrum Wendy found herself in with Peter Pan or H.H.’s regret in Hesse’s Journey to the East? It’s seems we have to pick one over the other when in fact most of us would prefer a blend of both. Sometimes not choosing either is the better choice.


Missed Connections in Washington, DC: I Am The Captain Of A Sinking Ship

grey street

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Lovelorn Poet in DC: Unexpected Feelings Haiku

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