A song is medicine
Magical.
Like a magic flute.
When you want to indulge your imagination.
Spring,
when you want your room to smell like the most beautiful pine or fir.
Winter,
when you think of mulled wine with cloves.
Summer,
when there's no end to the plans.
And then you come back to reality.
Autumn is the most beautiful,
because I love all shades of yellow.
Then love,
when you're head over heels in love.
Sad,
when you cry and you don't even know why you are crying.
Funny,
when you're in the mood
when you laugh and nothing is funny.
Short and clear,
a song is a medicine for everything!
Let's sing now.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about him
Money?
Not.
Fast cars?
Not.
Love?
Not.
The sea?
Not.
Snow?
Not.
A green meadow full of flowers?
Sunset?
Peace?
Nah!
So what drives him?
He was sitting alone.
In the dark.
With a glass of wine.
With a lit cigarette.
From time to time, a pen could be heard writing on paper.
He didn't know how to explain that he wasn't interested in anything mentioned above.
And they paid a lot.
They also promised a car.
And the sea.
And snow.
And everything that money can buy.
He did not reveal the secret to them.
He did not reveal that silence drives him.
Silence had no price for him.
He was an excellent writer!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the rain of BCH
I've been waiting a long time.
I have been waiting for this good morning for a long time.
We were crying.
Crying everytime.
But quietly.
We slept for a long time.
We thought.
A "why"...
Another "why".
More than 365 "why".
More than 730 "why"...
Is that sun rising?
Is it coming to us because... ?
Well, good morning to you.
Good morning.
Happy morning.
Singing morning.
Colorful morning.
Fragrant morning.
Rainy morning!
The rain of BCH is coming!
Author: Musician
Thank you for reading.
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Poem about dry rain
Lightning strikes!
Thunders are shooting!
It is falling as if someone opened the sky!
What happens?
Nothing is clear to me.
My answer would be rain.
Your answer would be rain.
Yes,
it's raining.
But it's not wet rain.
How is it possible?
Still no one hides.
Really nobody is wet.
Well, this is something different!
People are jumping for joy.
This is the new sky.
The sky without limits!
Cash sky opened.
Falling cashrains!
Connect.
It is possible.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the condition
It's not a disease.
And it is a disease.
You don't die from that disease.
And you're not even quite alive.
You live,
but not this ordinary life.
You live your life.
An imaginary world.
Better say, you live state.
A condition.
The condition in which only you are there.
A state where hardly anyone understands you.
Maybe no one.
When you scream,
they run away from you.
They think you are not normal.
And that's just how you manifest your state.
Current situation.
There is a high-functioning.
You are so aware of that condition.
You control it well.
You talk about it.
About parallel life.
It's called autism.
And it just wants you to understand it.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the kingdom
Imagine me,
assembled from toothpicks.
Imagine my wife,
assembled from toothpicks.
Then one child,
and another child.
A toothpick family...
We play, we sing,
we travel, we celebrate!
And we have the toothpick house,
toothpick car,
toothpick park,
and a toothpick guitar.
I can make anything you can imagine out of toothpicks.
We have our own little toothpick kingdom!
Be creative.
Create your own little kingdom.
For example, from chocolate candies...
Enjoy it.
See you in your little kingdom.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the black egg
I listen to my son sing a song about an egg.
An egg that practices karate.
Black egg.
Everyone laughs at it.
Because they know that an egg cannot practice karate.
I love eggs.
My favorite is on a plate.😊
From quail.
From chicken.
From duck.
From the ostrich.
From the goose.
It's full of protein,
lots of the best.
They say that the eggshell is also healthy.
I know they ask the question which first,
a chicken or an egg?
But does it matter?
It is important that we now have both the chicken and the egg.
An egg is an egg.
It gives strength.
So eat at least one egg every day.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about a small dot Anna
What's the first thing you think of when you think of a dot?
Everyone think of the black dot.
No, my dot is not that black dot.
My dot is my Anna.
Little blue,
with blue eyes.
A dotty,
like no other.
A small pit bull.
Big and little cheater.
Leader.
Strong and weak.
All this until now.
And she is only two years old.
Better say stubborn.😊
So small and so persistent.
And again a sweetie.
Little sweet princess.
And what about the dot?
My son called her a dot.
When we told him that there was someone in his mother's stomach,
he was too young to realize how someone is in his mother's stomach, and mom didn't eat it. 😀
That's how the poem about Anna was born.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about a ball
I always wondered why.
The dog is chasing it.
The child is chasing it.
The cat is chasing it.
I never had an answer why.
Maybe because it is round?
Maybe because it spins on its own?
Maybe because the earth is round?
Thousands of people are chasing the ball.
Football.
Basketball.
Handball.
Tennis ball.
Golf ball.
Water polo ball.
But, what is a ball?
It's all about the ball!
Small or big ball,
does not matter.
We're all chasing it.
It definitely remains a mystery!
Do you know why?
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about need
The need to be seen.
The need to wear branded items.
The need to drive expensive cars.
The need to get richer.
The need to leave millions behind...
But human need is food.
A little food.
Water is needed.
Clean water.
Air is needed.
But not polluted.
The need for happiness.
Find it.
Need for life.
Smile.
And finally,
the most important,
the most significant.
The need to leave offspring!
They will manage even without your millions.
Don't worry.
Think carefully!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about twins
Mother did not distinguish between them.
Father did not distinguish between them.
They were not distinguished at school.
They were not distinguished at the university.
They were so much the same that only one of them prepared the exam and took it for both of them.
They could always trick anyone they wanted with their appearance.
Until one moment.
Until they found the girlfriends.
Yes, the girls distinguished them.
Because they got to know them from the inside.
They got to know them so well that they never made a mistake.
It's not all about appearance.
They are twins,
but in the soul they differ.
Their habits are different.
Their needs are different.
They are exactly the same.
And completely different.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about collective consciousness
What do you know about consciousness?
Do you know how consciousness works?
What do you do consciously in life?
What do you do unconsciously in life?
Let's put it this way.
E.g,
I am consciously thinking about something.
I am consciously thinking about someone.
But I think to myself.
I didn't tell anyone what I was thinking.
I didn't mention to those persons that I was thinking about them.
We meet for coffee by chance.
We both open that very topic of conversation.
As deja vu, already seen!
Is that a coincidence?
It's not!
It is a collective consciousness.
He knew that I knew.
I knew he knew.
We both already knew everything...
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about mountain air
The first feeling is terrible!
You think you're suffocating!
You don't think it's possible that you can breathe that much air!
You think your lungs are opening!
You literally don't know what hit you!
You think you are in a cloud of scent!
You are spinning on your axis!
You try to get some air,
but not,
lungs ask you to breathe deeply!
Then you let go.
You close your eyes.
Slow down your heart rate.
And you breathe, you breathe...
You breathe so hard but slow,
that you are starting to doze off!
And then the smell of pine,
the smell of fir,
the smell of resin,
and then the smell of cut grass.
Smells, smells, smells...
You think you are bathing in scents!
No, you are not in a perfume factory.
You are not even connected to artificial oxygen.
You are on a mountain.
At almost 2000m above sea level,
you are intoxicated by the scents of the mountains.
The mountain air intoxicates you!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about a boxing match (coin match)
Good evening, dear writers.
Tonight you will have the opportunity to watch fierce rivals.
The following teams are in the quarterfinals.
Cardano (ada) - Ethereum (eth)
Tron (trx) - Dogecoin (doge)
Pepe (pepe) - Shiba inu (shib)
Bitcoin cash (bch) - Litecoin (ltc)
The fight is uncertain every second.
Nobody knows who will win.
Adrenaline rises.
Statistics are tracked.
We are chasing the victory of the day.
In the semifinals are ADA and TRX.
And on the other hand SHIB and BCH.
Everything is still uncertain.
ADA narrowly wins.
BCH narrowly wins.
Finale of the evening.
Uncertain until the very end.
And ADA wins the title of the day.
The poem is with invented statistics, coins are randomly selected.
The motive is competitive spirit.
Musician
Thank you for reading.
Poem about chance
We met by chance.
We happen to know the same people.
We happened to buy a house right there.
I happened to be there just then.
Nothing is accidental!
You didn't meet by chance.
That's when you should have met.
You didn't mention those people by chance.
You didn't move and buy a house right there by chance.
Just stack the dice.
Read the roadside signs.
Listen to the world around you.
And you will just be told.
And why are you there?
And why did you meet?
Everyone has their own why!
Nothing is accidental, be sure.
Everything happens for a reason.
Maybe not right away.
But in time,
you will understand that it is so.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about musical notes
Did you know that there is a language that everyone understands?
A language for which you only need math up to number 8.
A unique language.
There are only 8 characters.
Yes, only 8.
You don't need to know English.
You don't need to know French.
You don't need to know Japanese.
You don't need to know any language.
And everyone in the world will understand you.
The language of music.
The language that speaks all languages!
Why is everything not as simple as with notes?
Why isn't it simple because many people would say a lot more and they don't know the language?
There would be so much more to talk about.
So much more could be written.
It would be so much easier for everyone.
I vote for musical notes to become the official language of the whole world.
Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do...
Let's all sing together.
Long live music!
Live notes!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about a turtle
How many problems do you have?
How difficult are they?
How much weight are you carrying on your back today?
Do this.
Do that.
Do something new every day.
You can't go wrong at work.
You can't go wrong at home.
You must not eat everything.
You must not drink anything.
Oh, how difficult it all is!
And imagine how it would be if in addition to all the daily problems,
you carry your house on your back!
Imagine you are a turtle.
You have 30 steps.
Each one is as tall as you are.
You carry the house on your back.
You need a lot of strength for each step.
On the 29th step,
you slip and fall on the first one.
What can you say without crying?
So appreciate your big and small problems,
because maybe you are not aware of how many heavier and bigger problems someone else is carrying...
On their backs.
Sincerely, turtle.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about a name
What is your name?
Are you sure you know?
If you don't know,
do you have someone to ask?
Of course you know your name.
And do you know what your name means?
If you don't know, ask someone right now.
You must know.
Did your mom and dad give you your name?
Did you get your grandfather's name?
I know people who changed their name.
They didn't like it.
I believe they didn't know the meaning.
Is a name just a letter on paper?
Are the letters just a sign of recognition?
They are not!
Every name has its own meaning.
And finally,
wear your name like you wear your nose!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the game of life
I always play to win.
I play even when I'm not playing.
I never gave up.
When you look at me,
you think I'm sleeping.
But I still play.
I play with my eyes closed.
I play long.
I have been playing for almost 40 years.
I'm not talking about a game of chance.
I'm talking about the game of life.
I play to get better tomorrow.
I play to stay alive and healthy.
I play to save my children.
I'm playing and I don't know if I'm winning.
Life sends strong opponents.
When someone asks me what you do?
How are you?
I say, "I fight".
At the end,
who survives will tell.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about a rock in the sea
I think in silence.
I think about what I would like to be.
I wouldn't want to be the richest because they die too.
Neither popular, they have no peace.
I think and fantasize.
I wish I was eternal.
I wish I was a rock.
To stand proud.
To be strong.
So strong that no one can do anything to me.
To be always in the sea.
To be home to shells.
I wish there were always fish swimming around me.
Big and small.
That swimmers jump off me.
That someone always admires my appearance.
To be afraid of how tall I am.
To see myself far.
Far away.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about worn jeans
I bought new ones yesterday.
I have at least 5 pairs in my closet.
My wife is angry with me.
She tells me to wear new ones.
You know the feeling of not being satisfied.
You know when you don't feel like they're right for you.
They look good, that's all.
Everyone notices that they are new.
Everyone comments.
But, there is always "but".
But they are not worn out.
They are not a little torn.
I have a hard time letting go of things.
Especially from some that have their own story.
These worn ones of mine have their own.
I bought them from the first salary I earned.
I wore them 5 days a week.
I wash them at the weekend,
and then I wear them again for 5 days.
And that's the story of my worn jeans.
They know my every step.
They know my every minute.
That's why I keep them and wear them again.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the subconscious
Wondering if you have it?
Of course you have it.
We all have it.
Consciousness is what we control.
The subconscious cannot be controlled.
The subconscious is stronger than the conscious.
Should we worry?
How do we work on the subconscious?
How do we know what the subconscious is preparing for us?
Should we calm down consciously,
for the subconscious to be calm?
Yes, the answer is yes.
Calm down now.
Start working on yourself today.
Relax.
Breathe slowly and deeply.
Train!
When you feel like crying, cry.
When you're angry, get angry.
Just get it out of you,
for the subconscious to be calm.
And yes, rest assured,
the subconscious never sleeps!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about toys
One is always a favorite.
The other is broken.
Some are full of dust.
Some don't have a wheel.
Some don't have a trailer,
But...
They are always in the room.
They always stay the way you leave them.
They are never hungry.
They are never thirsty.
They just wait and wait.
They are waiting for you to take them.
To play with them.
What happens when you fall asleep?
What happens when all the lights go out?
Then another world emerges.
The world of toys.
A broken old truck revives.
An old doll with disheveled hair.
Uninflated ball.
A broken teapot starts beeping.
The plush dog comes to life.
It doesn't matter how old you are,
whether you play or not,
toys are there for you.
If nothing else,
there will always be good memories.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about inspiration
It's not there today.
It will be there tomorrow.
It stopped by yesterday,
but I didn't use it.
How does it work?
Why is it hiding?
Why can't we find it sometimes?
And sometimes we can't control it,
how much of it there is.
I know!
If you smile even when it's a gloomy morning,
if you're in a good mood even when everything isn't great,
if you are positive even when you are facing a difficult day,
if you help someone even when you can't help yourself,
it will come.
It must come.
You are an inspiration.
Your feelings are an inspiration.
You create inspiration yourself.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the morning
It happened!
After a long...
After the cold...
After a gloomy...
Winter.
It happened.
It's 5:30 a.m.
It smells like hot black coffee.
A freshly painted armchair awaits.
It is waiting for me to sit down and enjoy it.
It is waiting for the awakening.
The flower woke up.
The leaf woke up.
The nightingale woke up.
The day woke up.
The whole world is waking up.
With the first sip of coffee,
the first ray of the sun also comes out.
Others come out after it.
I wish you beautiful,
long awaited,
sunny and warm...
Morning.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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A poem, three months long
It was 3 months ago.
The New Year was celebrated.
Everyone was rejoicing.
Everyone was happy.
Everyone was cheerful.
I was a little scared.
Frightened and worried.
Slowly people stopped writing.
There were no more different ideas.
They weren't there to write about themselves.
About life, about children.
I also stopped for a while.
I stopped because I couldn't either.
The inspiration hid somewhere.
Between me and something unknown.
I stopped and started to sum up.
Impressions and days.
I counted them until two days ago.
I don't count anymore.
Because we are all here again.
We are all writing again.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about my first NFT
I didn't know until then.
I didn't know I could do it alone.
I didn't know anyone could do it.
I didn't know it was that easy.
I thought only someone could do that.
I was living in a delusion.
I did it and it wasn't hard.
I read.
I followed instructions.
In 4 steps I had my first NFT.
The story is important.
The story is the most important.
Mine is heavy.
Children with special needs.
But we succeeded.
They and I together.
We wrote the music.
We put our music on paper.
Now those kids too, who have special needs,
they also have their own unique work.
They have their own NFT.
Our drawn music.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading. The photo is original and mine. It is my first NFT.
https://opensea.io/collection/drawnmusic
Poem about parallel world
Someone wrote a book about dreams.
He wrote how to believe in dreams.
Do you know what dreams are?
Do you know why we dream?
Do you know what we dream about?
What is that dream state?
Do you know how long dreams last?
Do you know that if you dream nothing, they say you are not alive?
There is logic.
Because I believe it's a parallel world.
A world where we are really us.
Do you believe in a parallel world?
They say the witch, she dreamed of what would happen.
I think it's a part of all of us living people.
How can we even influence it?
How do we know what we will dream?
How when it is an unconscious state?
Like in a movie, but it's not a movie.
It has happened to you at least once in your life.
I'm sure.
You saw once what you dreamed of.
So listen carefully to your dreams.
Maybe there really is a parallel world.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about sudden jump
I jumped.
I jumped and hit.
That was a sudden jump.
I don't even know how I jumped.
I don't even know why I jumped.
I just realized I kissed the wall.
My forehead hurt.
My nose hurt.
My whole head hurt.
I jumped so hard,
I broke down!
Did I sleep?
Was I dreaming?
I do not know.
I know something very strong pulled me out of bed.
I can't describe the feeling.
The heart was pounding.
The body was sweating.
Everything was ringing in the ears.
I think tears came to my eyes.
I know it has to do with working hours,
I'm sure.
I know I have to do it differently.
So be careful what you do before you go to sleep.
Be careful what you eat,
what you drink,
and how tired you are.
What news do you read?
What are you watching on TV?
Peaceful sleep is half of health.
I wish you dreams without sudden jumps.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about getting nothing
I get up at 6.
And then I get nothing.
It's not early enough.
I will have to get up at 5 am.
I arrive at work an hour early.
And again I get nothing.
Not enough.
I stay an hour longer.
I have breakfast on the way.
Sometimes I don't even get to eat lunch.
I forget because of work that it's lunch time.
Then lunch becomes dinner.
I drink artificial vitamins, because I don't have time to buy fruit.
I exercise on the way.
I walk.
Because the crowds in the city are huge.
I can get there faster on foot.
I don't even get to be sick.
I had the last Covid on my feet.
I didn't even know I had it..
I just work and work and again I get nothing.
I don't get the most important.
I don't get to be with my children.
I see them in the evening.
I see them briefly.
Because then it's time for them to sleep.
Soon we won't even have time to die.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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@Musician
