Write To This Picture (VI)
 

Always liked this picture, so figued I'd see what you all could write to it...

Alright.. Me and Shiznit noticed no activity in here while talking on AIM and decided to write something just to ignite a spark in this place... (her web browser isn't working so I posted for us.. )

Insides corrupted and consumed by money and greed
Had a wife and kid.. just equaled more mouths to feed
Climbed the mountain tops peak where everyone looked up at me
Presently I'm weak, scrounging for a leftover meal to eat
Selfish ambitions seeked and conquered my every last desire
Higher expectations as every lyric quickly became uninspired
Now the days are growing longer.. and still no one will listen..
So what am I missing? Wasn't I once a great musician?

I used to enjoy the lifestyle of the rich and famous
Derived its corrupted mentality and ingenious
Searched aspects of soceity and tried to fit in
Multiplied efforts given as I became one of them
Adaptation of classy acts and unrealization of facts
Distracts my ownself from the place I found myself as
My loss of direction affected my life and family
"Insanity" I said but it indistinctively meant "Money"
Abduction of the practical things had made me jaded
Stayed the same as one by one they all faded
Family broken. House and furnitures taken.
Career. All disappeared.
Nowhere to go. No one to count on.
Left alone. All cause of "GREED"
Perfect notes i used to know and live by as i grew
Thats the passion of music that i always once knew
Used to have large crowds that affectionately listened
Now stuck with strangers walking passed me staying distanced
And now because of my weaknesses
there's certain rhythms left in my ear
The sound of my guitar and the coins
being dropped on the ground from the air

To also try and ignite a spark of sorts. Off top of my head...

Textured motions play deep within
Beating down upon churning soul
For so long sat looking down
Upon this world of theatre
Singing it's timeless songs
As life passed so varied
Many a time statuesque
Absorbing tears once fallen
Of broken children cries
Wife driven to lies
By these isolated thoughts
Destined to be alone
Distanced yet so close
Discriminating to none
Merely a tool of strife
Choosing to stay hidden
Weathered by visions
To transparent remains
Let death take this sword
This guitar so strummed
To humanity decaying
Like me back then
Till silence fell cold
Nothing ever more...

EDIT: Added the line - destined to be alone...

All that is left
This guitar of sorrow
Love all dead
Nothing left to borrow
Soul sunk in sands
Time was thorough
Working with woe
Within I burrow
Searching for nothing
But death tomorrow

Johnny Cash...Lifes A Blur So Live Fast
The Past Has Passed In The End It Hurts
Youve Painted Pictures All Your Life
But Never Finished Your Work
Nothing Less Than It "Has Been"
Far From Your Greatest Expectation Standard
Your Timeline Never Planned "Miss"
But Enjoy Your Trip To That Final Destination
You Lived It Up,Best Ad The Worst,
And Noone Can Say You Lost
Your Grip Your Trials Awaiting,
Play Your Music For God Hes Always Heard
You During Those Lonesome Times,
You'll See Your Lucky Lady Soon And
Somewhere Along Her Mind She'll Own
Your Rhymes True Love Never Dies Its Blind......

Whatever...Decent Photo End & Shiznit

Shiz..G Luck In The Tourney 4 Real

at the stroke of a chord- i lost what i can't afford-
tattered threads for my ripped life's fabric-
hair paleer then my skin it's tragic-tears tatted-
aged with no vintage-a loss counted to a frail mans image-
i have to do this it has to be done-
been killen myself for to long and my reason for life is gone-
make since to wallow swallow my agony-
each melody- from my guitar string-
bring -the memory of whats eating me-
contimplations of suicide repeatedly-
a broken lymric-
this is the suicde note of a stanza to a broken spirit-
paint in words words painted in oil-
oil runs of the paper when it's wet but wont wash my turmoil-
the hands of time-have slapped mine-
every day forward is my life in rewind-
poverty-no soverenty-
odly-though imready to be godly-
there is no turning back-the tracks-
to my veign-send a message in pain-
to my bodies frame-then to the brain-
and shows shame to my name-
in the name of that same shame and that cocaine-
that drove me insain-
i sit tame-waiting for the rain-
and the grim reap- sing me to sleep-

Graceful hands
Strum familiar tunes
Melodies etched
On histories tombs
A life once vibrant
Now dust to the wind-
Yet, the music lives on
As the old man sings.
Each note- every stanza
A journey he takes
Memories revisited
His heart, it breaks.
Bones now brittle
And lifeless within
Lost loves revived-
Forever to haunt him.
The past to reality
Today, but a dream
So, onward he travels
Sitting here, unseen.
Those graceful hands
Age weary and cold
Never falter nor fail, whilst
Telling his story, of old.
Now, forever you’ll hear
His beautiful song
As these graceful old hands
Will Eternally -

Strum on.



Never done this before, written on spec from a picture, was kinda fun :)

rhetorical insight
 

to die for my music
lost lonely bitter depressed
expect death at best
but my ears don't rest
one strum one chord the beat
of my heart in my chest
left to recollect my lifes chaotic mess
but the notes take my breath
relieve this crushing stress
so on i play on i press
left in the streets cold poor and listless
penniless without much left
but on i play on i press
depressed at the mess the stress
has made my chest
no time to work no weekly check
but still i stay
these strings i caress
and on i play and on i press
whne the time comes i welcome death
in his cloaked form and his stenching breath
and even in death i find no rest
so on i play
AND ON I PRESS

This guitarist once was famous and his style could not be tamed
He would play a lively song when it was sunny and a ballad when it rained
He turned wealthy with this gift he had, but his soul then became strained
So his music lost it's magic touch and he soon lost all his fame
And know he's long forgotten
And his once-so-energetic body is starting to get rotten
But that will never stop him from playing his guitar
He looks upon at the sky and wishes on a falling star
And he makes a wish, that someday he'll get his gift back
So he plays for night and day, looking for that style he lost
Until one long night he finds it, and regains all of his thoughts
And he plays just like he used to, or even better than before
But he realizes he has wasted 20 years of life and it will soon come to and end
But he just sits there playing now, better than he's ever played before
He just sits there playing, knowing that the music he adores left him old and tired and poor.

I have nothing left in this barren land
Except for the instrument that has scarred my hands
I hold it now , but just barely raised
My Life is gone , yet this guitar is saved

It has seen my ultimate Bliss and my deepest woes
It has help me overcome sorrow and defeat my foes
It is part of me , though I am quickly fading
How many times have I held onto nothing instead of trading

I've watched my sons grow old and die before my eyes
My Guitar weeps in my sweat and blood ,its her form of cries
She is my only friend left in this unforgiving world
She is my heart , my salvation , and part of my soul

I am leaving soon , this I can ultimately tell
I think heaven is attainable , but Im opted for Hell
Too many situations , I handled them wrong
Now , As I sit dying , I strum , One final song

I sing to my fellow brothers in arms
I sing to the women who have fallen to my charms
I sing to the future and what it becomes
I sing to God above , forgive my wrongs

When I strum these strings artistically
I forget about that Im nearly history
The song and strum brings me more alive than ever
And if I die while playing , my soul might live Forever


CrazyE

Simple treasures stripped from the hands that created them/
In turn given back the fate of karma that I so easily dismissed//
Now as this six string lies bleeding in my arms once more/
I hang my head in shame an remember when fate i did kiss//

Cascading sorrows melt down along these sunken cheeks/
But no one takes pity, when pity is often a sign of regret//
Pass me by as the strangers you label yourself, do not pause/
Life gave me my chance and I ignored, now it's here to collect//

when one looks over me now he feels great pity//
but one doesnt know the life that i lived //
he knows not if i lived in the green country or smoky city//
weather i had a loving family or just a dog to rely on//

one cant tell if was hoping for my end to come that night//
if i wished to die sitting there, to become another lost soul//
he only sees my aged bones and the silk the spiders left on tight//
that i sang to my end and played livly tunes with my graceful hand//

i dont need to be pityed on for you know nothing about me//
look to the one beside you and relise maybe they need it more//
leave me to sit dont think of me twice, i lived happyness you cant see//
remember that death doesnt show you the facts and it often will lie//

Through all i see,
through all i know
give me at'chu,
Bless you, knew
Sudden De-Notation's
Rapid Off Rotations
C# to D flat is all i know.
Through strumming digit's
i thumb the pigments,
pluck G chord.....
A# Hored,
I am a Note,
And 1
i....choke......

(Any1 who know's about music should understand the format.)

Lonely man, with a lost soul and a lost heart
Thoughts running through his mind, as he plays his guitar
Death is only the beginning of the end
Lonely and sad he sits ... with a frown and no friends
His guitar is his heart, as he plays music for days
His songs are parts of his soul, as he sits there and waits
Waits for something ... he doesn't know what is to come
He is sick of being scared, and he's sick being made fun of
Though words are nothing, and all they do is hurt the air
Nothing bad can put down, not even an angry stare
Gentle and calm ... He sits as he plays
He doesn't know what to expect, but his patience will allow him to wait ...

~~Guitar Speaks~~

Six strings is my scheme, most worthy on the musical scene/
I absorb the living and decay the flesh, with an acoustic ring/
The songsmen I've seen, withered dry to the spleen, yet in thier eye's is that persistant gleem/
I'm heard but often unseen, a melodic embrace I bring the End to your Means/
Pass time and space, were souls seldom are common place and wieghted heavily in disgrace/
Intertwined in my tune, as we dance alone in the pale moon, a tide for all seasons, as I strum in the gloom/
Sound waves splash upon the mass, like a pyscodelic Flash, or vissions induced by subliminal Hash/
Come one come all, strum to the beat of the socialist drum, intoxicating ya awarness like Pirate's to Rum/
Hypnotic hints of melodic tint's, colorize the air from which I stare, can you hear the sound of the ravenous pair?/
Lost in despair, a talent once there, no longer declared, isolated and spared from the traumma ~N~ flair/
Who's really playing who, A question I dare...A concept unaware and logically spared/
Instrumental is key, but the instrument is thee, as I invent the sound, don't you agree?/
Musicians have been played by me, since I can remember G, I'm the orignial wood and strings/
An abstract concept driven from deep intellect, with each new owner I reinvent melody's heaven sent, while ya drown in ill intent, I drain ya life and all rememberance/

I am instrumental and your just the instrument I invent/

~~Guitar Speaks~~