Moments Refrain: Artist in Pain
Moments Refrain: Artist in Pain

Rhythmic thumping,
synchronized symbiotic tempos
pulsing crescendos, rooted foundation.
With few comprehensible words,
and no explanation.

One scrambles, stumbles, then
foot caused quakes shake the old wooden floor
the show is on top of.

As one crashes in to another, here;
happiness and frustration are partners.
Enemies or friends leave there issues at the door.
Sipping cheap beer bought from the corner store,
most the Pabst ends up on the floor.

Senses are numbed by emotion,
guided in five-four.

One artist responsible for the off arrangement
looks out at his colliding friends.
Thoughts bend and make sense,
right now his thoughts
not consider consequence.

The pain in his hand, the painful ringing
in his ears.
His future fears, of surgeries he
will have to have.
Knowing that his shows will have an end.
Knowing that no amount of optimism
our well wishing will fix all of his trails.

He is going to be here for a while,
afterwards you might see him smile.
Or shake a new friends hand.
Moments define now, not here or then.

He does his score step by step.
Representing things loves, even
when caused pain.
Playing the moments refrain.
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Rob Cave

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