New Lyrics

dirt like grey flesh
on windows,
exterior daubed in
gang tags,
yet within
black non slip floor,
he sat with guitar
beyond singing
for a dollar,
he found a voice that
needed no currency,
a proportion of him
now belonged to
more than the city
he lived,
at carriage end
in his view,
with flick of
auburn hair,
eyes guided by
novelists words,
yet her heart only
heard the song.

for @dVerse

16 thoughts on “New Lyrics

  1. So cool, these almost ever occurring romances of chance encounters in moments that oass as swiftly as light in a mirror. You’ve described so accurately and viscerally the exterior ofvthe subway, and then you pull us gently into that human desire for oneness with another, above the mass of others. And it seems that as fleeting as these encounters are, they stick in memory for time beyonf time.


  2. Really enjoy the way describe the busker as leaving a part of his song to the city- that’s a great notion, and in a way- we all do when we travel so deep underground- right in its blood and guts. Great descriptions and observations here also…


  3. Cool, love how you focused on the people. So far everyone is focusing on something different in their poems, such a great thing to see. Very nice write. Thanks


  4. of the coolest things of riding the subway is listening to the musicians..and if you listen with the heart, you can hear much more than the music…he found a voice that needed no currency..this is great


  5. excellent…when you see mine you will understand…but i love street musicians and buskers…and you set the scene well with the grit of the description and set a love story within…i really like…


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