Artists of the private circle
of other lonely artists
in a far away sphere,
far away from mainstream’s influence,
elated by a certain sound,
disregarded by the masses
but dear to his heart,
his secret sounding board
of a mysterious substance
that lifts him up to his private paradise
into a field of unexplained rapture,
where the hands of the creator
reach in to massage his heart
and commend him for his devotion,
his explanation for the
type of person he made him into.
 
As he labors to understand
that certain sound, he falls
in love with it and desires to
accompany it with his own sound,
his artistry further developed by
what that new sound did to him,
and advanced himself
under its influence.
 
He is now in the company
of his peers and his secret music
is now a standard for others like him
to understand and fall in love with,
and caress it with their own sound;
hence the adorning of the adorned,
the advancement of the insignificant
and the rapture of the minority
that was selected by the creator.

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Robert L. Martin
2 months

Musicians are always copying each other's works. Then it gets redundant. When they add more beauty to it, it's called progressive until that becomes redundant.

Nelson D Reyes
2 months

This Season of Joy we find ourselves more involved making the everyday life of our loved ones and friends more beautiful, more “it’s O.K. Things are OK. Don’t worry” sentiment. As well as we adorn the adorned.

Beautiful poem. Like.
Thanks Robert.

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Nelson D Reyes
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