The sax swims in, swims out,
like a snake uncoiling and then coiling back;
lead guitar's strident notes
command attention.
Bass draws repeated patterns,
like a child drawing circles in the sand;
drums cycle brooding,
punctured by the cheerful cymbals,
and return to brood again.
And
I sit, eyes closed,
in deathly stillness,
yet propelled
by that liquid momentum.
In the mind's eye
I see those fingers
press the keys,
pluck the strings,
play the chords,
sticks hit the drums.
They make me understand
life's motion,
like a blind man realising
light.
In the cobwebs
of my perceptions,
which I can feel
yet cannot really put in words,
I ask myself:
was this the language
I heard inside the womb?
-
Author:
Rebellion In Sanity (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 15th, 2026 08:17
- Comment from author about the poem: I love music. Its quite frustrating not be able to find words how it makes me feel. I feel the poem landed much short of its target, but this was the best I could do with my limited vocabulary. Your comments (good, bad or ugly) will be highly appreciated. Thank you
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Tristan Robert Lange, Friendship
Offline)
Comments6
A lovely poem of music which I love and feel enough to bring tears even when being watched. That beat in the womb of a mother's heart and the sound of passing air to the lungs was transferred to wood and stone long before words. It lives inside us from countless generations across all cultures a universal language that touches far deeper than poetry. When combined the two become celestial exciting armies and taming the wildest beast. The last stanza struck home my friend.
Thank you for your read and very valuable comments 🙏. Appreciate your support 🙏
My pleasure Rebellion
They do say the baby can feel the rhythm of music in the womb.
I suppose through the decades, baby's have been having a great time musically.
Maybe the 60s babies had the best time of all.
Thank you for your visit and comment 🙏. Perhaps, just perhaps, the wonderful time was in the 70s with pf, jt, alman brothers, doors, bb king? Deeply appreciate your support 🙏
My friend, the instrumentation imagery grounds the piece, but the inward turn is what elevates it. From sax and cymbals to womb memory and pre-verbal language…that arc feels intentional. In my humble opinion, you didn’t fail to find the words…you showed how music lives beyond them. Strong work. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
As always my gratitude for your visit and valuable comments 🙏. Thank you 🙏
Most welcome, my friend.
Can't see where bad or ugly could possibly come from. Got it from the first stanza and was off... Came back for the rest later.
Needless to say.....
I write to see if I am able to express myself in a way which will let the reader see what i see. Your comment made me feel very happy. Thank you 🙏
What a beautifully written poem. Your poem revolves around the profound connection between music and understanding life’s essence. Yet the poet explores the transformative power of sound and rhythm, illustrating how music can evoke deep feelings and insights comparable to a blind man's realization of light. and touches on perception, awareness, and the innate understanding of existence that transcends physical sight.
Deeply appreciate your read and comment. Thank you 🙏
You're so welcome, your work is amazing 🌹
good write...
Thank you very much 🙏
you are always welcome...
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