Val enjoys writing his own style of what resembles poetry, just hoping to catch someone's heart on the same page.
All Romantic Music Gone
Where is the music romantic and cool
the one long before heavy metal and rap
now played by every angry, hysterical fool
that pushed away finesse for this noisy crap.
Gone are days of romantic expression
with roses and lips on an album's cover
when lyrics displayed a gentle confession
so adding to the words of each hopeful lover.
Under dimmed light we would slowly dance
in embrace, as if blending with each other
hearts so resonating in a musical trance
nothing in this world that could bother.
Music that made you seek a mate
giving your dreams a new dimension
as you rehearsed words for that first date
those mellow sounds easing down the tension.
Music that helped memories to be made
for years to come crowned with silver hair
in so many romantic hearts it forever stayed
deaf to this crappy noise which can't compare.
Generations are coming with something new
each but expressing their own musical mood
but it's not meant for me, and maybe for you
those times are gone when music was good.
From the Lips of My Muse
Oftentimes she lulls me into a poetic trance
her whisper not always so easy to perceive
but enough for rhymes, their rhythmic dance.
and yet for another human story to conceive.
Wondrous is magic of words at their play
with mystery of where they are springing
and how they know what they want to say
like free flowing lyrics in carefree singing.
What in me insists on expressing my soul
lining every vibrant and meaningful letter
like in rehearsal of some theatrical role
stumbling at first, but getting better.
\if my Muse happened to be a human
she might look like Madonna with child
or like an angel disguised as a woman
with that mysterious Mona Lisa's smile.
I see her again as she is waving good-bye
reading this last verse from her smiling lips
I smile back at her with this trembling sigh
while ending yet another of my poetic trips.
An Incorrigible Romantic
Crystal dust of stars reflected in this heart
as they sit on horizon with their gentle touch
like a visual lullaby with its every dreamy part
and enchanting me with its spell ever so much.
Born a romantic, a romantic I'll die
blending into spirit of nature's delight
breathing with breeze caressed by its sigh
discovering all my purpose in every moonlight.
\i run out of words when heart wants to speak
and let it be all unspoken, just felt in my core
not minding to look like a sentimental freak
but letting it bloom in me forever more.
\for what's other sense of living this life
if heart is short of this magical feeling
this happens in absence of any strife
with a starry night as soul's ceiling.
My memories are made of this fabric so divine
and my future is basking in sunshine of trust
with present aromatic like glass of old wine
that, my friend, is often bordering with lust.
© 2021 Val Karas