Crane your neck outward.

Turn your face skyward.

Lift your head above the trees.

Breath in that purple sky

And the cool nighttime breeze.


Let your eyes shine the light across the tree tops.

It’s coming.

It’s coming…

From the moment the first beat drops.


The Muse grabs me,

Holds me,

Restraining my movements.

My vision unobstructed.


The Bones spread across the essay before me.

Let me show you what I see.

Music is my scrying glass…

It is my crystal ball…


When the melody is cut open.


Locked in a melodic trance.

Dangerous to be shaken out of,

Sleep walkin’ on the bass line

Floating up from her shores…


Hunch the shoulders.

Feel the pain in ya bones.

The twitch in ya muscle.

Wailing from the seduction.


Let me direct you to what I see,

It’s all too familiar to me.


As the beat creeps,

Wicked, wicked

Bewitched and transfixed.

Eyes in disbelief.


Mouth open,

Collapsed into the folds.

Buried in the beats.

The Muse come t’claim another soul.


by malakhai.jones
© Copyright 2016
image source:  http://fischer-bedrijfsfotografie.nl/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/voodoo-dance-Benin.jpg


      1. Happy to do so. I think that is the main point why most of us are here putting our words out there. You are a wonderful writer, you convey powerful emotions, and I look forward to more. 🙂

  1. I’m glad I read this in reverse order. I have already read some of your writing inspired by music and this makes me think of how you must feel when a song gets under your skin and you are itching to write about it. Lovely!

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