mostly i used to play songs of blues,
moody and dull tunes of a recluse’s shelf,
the kind of hazy music that would
sound slow and soothing,
the sort of loner’s tunes that tries
to console the slightly broken you,
that mends your meddled insides
while in those of gloomy and
dull days of vague void,
that subtly looks up to clear out
your inner mess of a weird episode’s
erratic page of solace less solitude,
of a wretched sulking you,
the vinyl from the kind of collection
that would sincerely try to group
together the pieces of your broken heart,
mending the fragments back to
its original shape,
the substance that has the musical antidote
to the mildly poisoned you taking in
the venom of time,
as in the prevailing plight’s harshness,
the crude acerbic sour thirst of love,
yearn for solace,
the plea for the panacea of the
empty inside’s aching vagaries of loss
and solo soul’s darker hues of deranged lineaments.
Its that murky pathos of
a single malt whisky’s blend
intoxicating the sleep less you,
diverging you may be from the times of insomnia
to comfort your broken soul, your sulking insides
to a solace that soothes you with the
air of nostalgia and a bit of love,
reminiscing and reflecting its warmth, feel and its touch.
at times i play the slow genres of tunes
that tend to mirror life’s other shades of emotions too,
wherein the kind of slow jazz which will bring
alive the husky love of piano tunes and
the milder blares of breezing romance,
the music of moonlight kiss.
the music revives the mundane you
to feel the slow rain of a sizzling paris,
wherein the kind of scenes you
could picture with the undulating
translucent frames of low neon,
portrays the season of paris with
people romancing and kissing each other
perhaps the wild lovers of the scenic tryst’s
sensual mood in rhythm and salsa,
the romantic aria,
the poetic tango,
the glistening songs of vista paintings
that tunes the glossy love in rainy paris,
that even scintillates the beautiful lovers
to moods of heaven’s drizzle and to
tango of a wilder sex night ecstasy.
Sometimes i even migrate them to
an all new different world of lovely leisure,
an escapade to that moods of soothing comfort,
a musical embrace like a passionate love affair,
the warmth and care of an affectionate love.
i comfort you,
i console you,
i exhilarate you,
refreshing your insides and
grooving you with
the light hearted sense of endearing romance,
the slow rain of music,
the drizzle of slow jazz,
engrossing you with serene light of milder glitz
that is soothingly affable and apparently adequate,
while glowing you with cup of joy,
flighting you with feathers of love,
and kissing you with the gloss of jazz.
Though i am bit worried when he moves
to his other sophisticated machine
for playing the rest of trendy genres
and sorts of upbeat music,
i know he likes me,
he loves me,
he treasures me,
and i ll sense this love every time
when he slides his fingers over my body,
as he fondly spins my disc,
i know he has a deeper affair
with me and my music,
that irreplaceable place inside his heart,
that unparallel love for my classic
vinyl spin of retro jazz and moody blues,
for my soothing solace and
scintillating rain of music,
on my plates of exquisite groove
and musical antiquity.
my random contemplations 