The orchestra played a sad song, one that I seemed to know. It was a faint memory, and it was slowly slipping. But it was still there, somehow. Like the tiniest sense of deja vu. It was as if I had heard the same song in a dream, or a past life…
He loved to go to the orchestra. He wouldn’t watch the players enchant melodies off gleaming brass and glossy wood, but instead sit with his eyes closed and just listen to that all-encompassing, enrapturing music. He would see the piece twist before him like some tangible, beautiful ribbon, twisting and whirling and constantly evolving and sweeping him up to an amazing, wonderful high point. His wrists would twist, his fingers dancing out the melodies he saw, a tiny thread of restraint holding him back from letting it consume him completely and waltzing down the aisles without a partner. He smiled some small private smile just for himself as the music fed his soul in the way little else could.
The orchestra of chaos was overwhelming. I didn’t mind the first punch, but the others landed in all of the wrong places. My head hurt. I had never felt such pain in my life. When I saw the man with the knife, It didn’t register that I should move, so I didn’t. What had I gotten myself into?
She sat down, willowing tears filled her eyes.
As fear gripped her waist, releasing all the air left in her eyes.
An orchestra of epic cries left her mouth.
The beauty of love lost in an moment, what took years and months and her soul to create.
krk
the magic begin just when the curtains open, all i could see was the splendor of the orchestra but then i shut my eyes so I start hearing the music, all around us taking us somewhere we’d never been .. someplace so magical. so magical that i though I was dreaming. but no it was real, it was there and I felt so alive, so on the edge of everything around me, I knew I was alone but it was ok, for the first time i felt Heal. Felt ok.
When I have absolutely nothing to do I come to this site. I don’t know what I’m hoping to accomplish. Wow, this has nothing to do with the prompt. I feel bad. But every time I see the word I think of the sort of thing that other people would probably write, like ‘Orchestra. Orchestra. Violins and violas, all meshing into one great sound that is important for our lives as humans. My life is an orchestra, and yours is too.’ And I am filled with incredible and incredibly undeserved disdain.
snooty mcsnoots
the orchestra boomed, people watched, all was far away for the two in the back of the theater. they had not seen each other for years, and finally their eyes had meant again. all was in another world, and this world they were in had tons of possibilities.
A symphony of sounds surrounds me. Covered in music, buried in music, alive in music. There is nothing that can accomplish what music can, and that is the beauty of it. Music invigorates, sustains, stabs.
I sit back in my chair, gazing at the huge chandler above, hanging on it golden balls on silver chains dangle slightly, as if the orchestra’s music is shaking the entire room. The room’s walls are tinted deep yellow and red. My eyes close as I immerse myself in the music.
Isabella
the first time i ever danced with the love of my life
it was to “In The Mood” by
Glenn Miller and his orchestra
‘Come with me to the place where music fills our hearts, leaving deep echos in our ears; and let’s get nostalgic when we hear the songs we both loved in Europe. Take a guess, the word starts with an O, and it is the combination of the woodwind, string, bass, percussion. Of course, a grand piano right in the center of the spotlight. But please don’t let the pianist steal your heart away. Hold on tight to mine like how I’m holding on to yours for the rest of my life. Meet me at 7pm, wear your most gorgeous dress. See you later, ma cherie.’
There lied a bouquet of red roses and a golden ticket on the antique carved table. The smile on her face and the excitement that builds in her heart can light up the whole world.
alyssa rae
the fine stitching making up the fabric of this life. divine and ethereal and indescribable and perfect. yet dissonant and causing tension as it clings at the moving, growing shape of things. and its all i want is for something to make it better, for the sun to shine brighter, to feel and smell the wind again and i want to say that youre enough. but im undeniably human and i cannot deny the limit imposed upon my existence by this mass of skin and guts. i need what is materialistically substantial. though you are what takes any notions inspired by that and transforms it into something more, something more sacred and immortal. you are the harmony of life and death. and i have you, but now i ache and cringe and reach for that which will hold me at night, balancing all the chaos which this vessel will try to dominate at day.
it was bright and it was loud and it was amazing. a whole wave of sound reverberating throughout my entire body. i wanted to keep that symphony forever. i wanted to stay in that huge mahogany orchestra pit surrounded by all the notes and instruments i’d never know how to play. it didn’t matter, i knew how to listen, i knew how to feel it all.
I miss playing in the orchestra. I played first chair trumpet my freshman and sophomore year of high school. And that was the first time I had ever played trumpet as part of an ensemble. I originally learned how to play trombone, and then the baritone. I eventually taught myself how to play the clarinet, and inevitably the trumpet. I learned to transpose music on my own. I even transposed a french horn piece. I think I was a musical genius. Too bad I let that talent go. I miss a lot about high school these days…
Evelyn
An orchestra of feeling washed over her. She didn’t know what her emotions were – happiness, sadness, bitterness, relief, hurt, anger, they all banged together, creating a dissonance that exhausted her. She wondered when the song would end.
Liz
this orchestra is baring inside of my head
drowning my thoughts out with the words i should have said.
these night terrors shake me and wake me from my bed.
the voices will stop only after i’m dead.
The sounds was loud and screaming to her ears. She didn’t know what she was about to walk into. With her eyes pressed tight to her blindfold she felt the small sweat beads forming by her hairline. A few more steps and her boyfriend grabbed her hand. He dropped the blindfold with one quick sweep and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the bright lights.
Jamie
It was more than just pain. It was like music. What disturbed most others, she delighted in. A blade to the shoulder, a stab to the arm, a bullet in the knee. The more they attacked her, the more it motivated her. Every shock wave, bite, and signal of pain that surged through her body, only brought a wider smile to her face. It was a symphony, an orchestra of pain, playing in concert to her masochistic senses. Inspiration to push further. It’s what made her invincible, and what made her enemies fear her.
I love all my orchestra friends. They’re so cool and nerdy in a musical way. But theres a skill I’ll never develop- and honestly, I prefer brass and woodwind to strings. Though I’d never tell them that to their face.
Jazz
The orchestra, is where I belong. I know the music resides in my soul, but my fingers won’t let it out.
There was an orchestra inside my head,
the moment I looked away from her and on to you.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t do anything except get lost in the waves emanating from the gaze of your smile and the brightness of your eyes.
You were perfection
and I was lost.
the orchestra played in the pit. we couldn’t see them but the strains of music floated up from somewhere below, ethereal, magnificent. i closed my eyes; sight made no difference anyway. I couldn’t understand that humans could make those noises, even humans aided by instruments of wood and metal and lungs and lips
Jane
Nature’s orchestra surrounds us as the rain pounds from above us the thunder shrieks from around us and the ground rumbles beneath us. Listen close as the orchestra’s music is quickly fading. Surrender your senses as this moment is one to engrave in your brain, as the image has already dissolved into normality.
i lift my hand and just like that the heavenly symphony comes to life 1 2 3 4…
Tina
An orchestra of silence fell between them.
When it is awkward and uncomfortable…you wish for nothing more but a single noise to be made but break the tension in the quiet air. But you know that the ties you have with someone are real when that silence isn’t awkward, rather is the most fulfilling and comforting thing in the world.
The sounds of out of tune strings, mixed with the blaring trumpets, and frail squeaking woodwinds made a poor excuse for a night out. But it was the first time l met her. So, all things considered, it was the worst night of my life.
The orchestra prepped for the night’s performance. The flutists wiped their instruments with polish and prepared their mouth pieces. The violinist made sure her bow was well rosined. Tonight was a big night, as tonight was the night scouts would be present. Scouts that could change that their lives forever…
Wendy
Who do you think you are? God?! To have orchestrated this disaster, this holocaust of the innocent people. Their cries are your trumpets, their barely beating hearts are your drums, their wails harmonize on your favorite note.
Ding ding ding. We always wanted to play the triangle. Think about it. If an Orchestra tours, wouldn’t you want to be the person playing the triangle? Such a cruisy job, and you get all the perks! Choice.
the orchestral harmony of your smile makes my heart ache. so many perfectly silent sounds resonate within my soul, inspired by your pleasure. i wish i was to your liking.
the orchestra was orchestrated
perfectly situated
right behind where we were
supposed to be.
with their white cottoned wrists
and black jackets
we waited as our
ears anticipated
what’s next?
Orchestra
“Ah, where has the magnificent horn of the orchestra gone?” As she cowers over me.
“Why? Why must you change around me?”
“Because, I am merely pretending to like you, dear.”
I used to play in the high school band. There was an orchestra too, much smaller with only stringed instruments. Nothing like a true symphonic orchestra. I used to think band was my favorite class. I was so wrong!
Orchestra… will forever remind me of Manchester Orchestra. Not my favorite band, but I kinda like them. Well, only a few songs. The titles make me laugh (yay for my mind always hanging out in the gutter)
The orchestra was playing a concerto, a crescendo of music intermingling and battling with each other in a magnificent piece of mastery. I envied this talent. I despised it. Yet I loved it all the same.
Fallaby
The orchestra was playing beautifully that night; their music tolling high and low as the play progressed. Captivated by the beauty of the sound and the rhythmic movements of the actors on stage he never saw him creep up. Never saw anything at all in fact as Booth fired that fatal bullet…
LOUD NOISES!!!
The orchestra played a sad song, one that I seemed to know. It was a faint memory, and it was slowly slipping. But it was still there, somehow. Like the tiniest sense of deja vu. It was as if I had heard the same song in a dream, or a past life…
He loved to go to the orchestra. He wouldn’t watch the players enchant melodies off gleaming brass and glossy wood, but instead sit with his eyes closed and just listen to that all-encompassing, enrapturing music. He would see the piece twist before him like some tangible, beautiful ribbon, twisting and whirling and constantly evolving and sweeping him up to an amazing, wonderful high point. His wrists would twist, his fingers dancing out the melodies he saw, a tiny thread of restraint holding him back from letting it consume him completely and waltzing down the aisles without a partner. He smiled some small private smile just for himself as the music fed his soul in the way little else could.
The orchestra of chaos was overwhelming. I didn’t mind the first punch, but the others landed in all of the wrong places. My head hurt. I had never felt such pain in my life. When I saw the man with the knife, It didn’t register that I should move, so I didn’t. What had I gotten myself into?
She sat down, willowing tears filled her eyes.
As fear gripped her waist, releasing all the air left in her eyes.
An orchestra of epic cries left her mouth.
The beauty of love lost in an moment, what took years and months and her soul to create.
the magic begin just when the curtains open, all i could see was the splendor of the orchestra but then i shut my eyes so I start hearing the music, all around us taking us somewhere we’d never been .. someplace so magical. so magical that i though I was dreaming. but no it was real, it was there and I felt so alive, so on the edge of everything around me, I knew I was alone but it was ok, for the first time i felt Heal. Felt ok.
When I have absolutely nothing to do I come to this site. I don’t know what I’m hoping to accomplish. Wow, this has nothing to do with the prompt. I feel bad. But every time I see the word I think of the sort of thing that other people would probably write, like ‘Orchestra. Orchestra. Violins and violas, all meshing into one great sound that is important for our lives as humans. My life is an orchestra, and yours is too.’ And I am filled with incredible and incredibly undeserved disdain.
the orchestra boomed, people watched, all was far away for the two in the back of the theater. they had not seen each other for years, and finally their eyes had meant again. all was in another world, and this world they were in had tons of possibilities.
A symphony of sounds surrounds me. Covered in music, buried in music, alive in music. There is nothing that can accomplish what music can, and that is the beauty of it. Music invigorates, sustains, stabs.
The orchestra of my life is playing. It’s telling me to take the hard but fulfilling path.
I sit back in my chair, gazing at the huge chandler above, hanging on it golden balls on silver chains dangle slightly, as if the orchestra’s music is shaking the entire room. The room’s walls are tinted deep yellow and red. My eyes close as I immerse myself in the music.
the first time i ever danced with the love of my life
it was to “In The Mood” by
Glenn Miller and his orchestra
‘Come with me to the place where music fills our hearts, leaving deep echos in our ears; and let’s get nostalgic when we hear the songs we both loved in Europe. Take a guess, the word starts with an O, and it is the combination of the woodwind, string, bass, percussion. Of course, a grand piano right in the center of the spotlight. But please don’t let the pianist steal your heart away. Hold on tight to mine like how I’m holding on to yours for the rest of my life. Meet me at 7pm, wear your most gorgeous dress. See you later, ma cherie.’
There lied a bouquet of red roses and a golden ticket on the antique carved table. The smile on her face and the excitement that builds in her heart can light up the whole world.
the fine stitching making up the fabric of this life. divine and ethereal and indescribable and perfect. yet dissonant and causing tension as it clings at the moving, growing shape of things. and its all i want is for something to make it better, for the sun to shine brighter, to feel and smell the wind again and i want to say that youre enough. but im undeniably human and i cannot deny the limit imposed upon my existence by this mass of skin and guts. i need what is materialistically substantial. though you are what takes any notions inspired by that and transforms it into something more, something more sacred and immortal. you are the harmony of life and death. and i have you, but now i ache and cringe and reach for that which will hold me at night, balancing all the chaos which this vessel will try to dominate at day.
it was bright and it was loud and it was amazing. a whole wave of sound reverberating throughout my entire body. i wanted to keep that symphony forever. i wanted to stay in that huge mahogany orchestra pit surrounded by all the notes and instruments i’d never know how to play. it didn’t matter, i knew how to listen, i knew how to feel it all.
I miss playing in the orchestra. I played first chair trumpet my freshman and sophomore year of high school. And that was the first time I had ever played trumpet as part of an ensemble. I originally learned how to play trombone, and then the baritone. I eventually taught myself how to play the clarinet, and inevitably the trumpet. I learned to transpose music on my own. I even transposed a french horn piece. I think I was a musical genius. Too bad I let that talent go. I miss a lot about high school these days…
An orchestra of feeling washed over her. She didn’t know what her emotions were – happiness, sadness, bitterness, relief, hurt, anger, they all banged together, creating a dissonance that exhausted her. She wondered when the song would end.
this orchestra is baring inside of my head
drowning my thoughts out with the words i should have said.
these night terrors shake me and wake me from my bed.
the voices will stop only after i’m dead.
The sounds was loud and screaming to her ears. She didn’t know what she was about to walk into. With her eyes pressed tight to her blindfold she felt the small sweat beads forming by her hairline. A few more steps and her boyfriend grabbed her hand. He dropped the blindfold with one quick sweep and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the bright lights.
It was more than just pain. It was like music. What disturbed most others, she delighted in. A blade to the shoulder, a stab to the arm, a bullet in the knee. The more they attacked her, the more it motivated her. Every shock wave, bite, and signal of pain that surged through her body, only brought a wider smile to her face. It was a symphony, an orchestra of pain, playing in concert to her masochistic senses. Inspiration to push further. It’s what made her invincible, and what made her enemies fear her.
I love all my orchestra friends. They’re so cool and nerdy in a musical way. But theres a skill I’ll never develop- and honestly, I prefer brass and woodwind to strings. Though I’d never tell them that to their face.
The orchestra, is where I belong. I know the music resides in my soul, but my fingers won’t let it out.
There was an orchestra inside my head,
the moment I looked away from her and on to you.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t do anything except get lost in the waves emanating from the gaze of your smile and the brightness of your eyes.
You were perfection
and I was lost.
But it all passed in a moment,
and time moved on.
the orchestra played in the pit. we couldn’t see them but the strains of music floated up from somewhere below, ethereal, magnificent. i closed my eyes; sight made no difference anyway. I couldn’t understand that humans could make those noises, even humans aided by instruments of wood and metal and lungs and lips
Nature’s orchestra surrounds us as the rain pounds from above us the thunder shrieks from around us and the ground rumbles beneath us. Listen close as the orchestra’s music is quickly fading. Surrender your senses as this moment is one to engrave in your brain, as the image has already dissolved into normality.
i lift my hand and just like that the heavenly symphony comes to life 1 2 3 4…
An orchestra of silence fell between them.
When it is awkward and uncomfortable…you wish for nothing more but a single noise to be made but break the tension in the quiet air. But you know that the ties you have with someone are real when that silence isn’t awkward, rather is the most fulfilling and comforting thing in the world.
The sounds of out of tune strings, mixed with the blaring trumpets, and frail squeaking woodwinds made a poor excuse for a night out. But it was the first time l met her. So, all things considered, it was the worst night of my life.
The orchestra was tuning. Random notes shot out of the mess with a screech. It almost hurt my ears. But still, it was beautiful.
The orchestra prepped for the night’s performance. The flutists wiped their instruments with polish and prepared their mouth pieces. The violinist made sure her bow was well rosined. Tonight was a big night, as tonight was the night scouts would be present. Scouts that could change that their lives forever…
Who do you think you are? God?! To have orchestrated this disaster, this holocaust of the innocent people. Their cries are your trumpets, their barely beating hearts are your drums, their wails harmonize on your favorite note.
Ding ding ding. We always wanted to play the triangle. Think about it. If an Orchestra tours, wouldn’t you want to be the person playing the triangle? Such a cruisy job, and you get all the perks! Choice.
the orchestral harmony of your smile makes my heart ache. so many perfectly silent sounds resonate within my soul, inspired by your pleasure. i wish i was to your liking.
the orchestra was orchestrated
perfectly situated
right behind where we were
supposed to be.
with their white cottoned wrists
and black jackets
we waited as our
ears anticipated
what’s next?
Orchestra
“Ah, where has the magnificent horn of the orchestra gone?” As she cowers over me.
“Why? Why must you change around me?”
“Because, I am merely pretending to like you, dear.”
I used to play in the high school band. There was an orchestra too, much smaller with only stringed instruments. Nothing like a true symphonic orchestra. I used to think band was my favorite class. I was so wrong!
Orchestra… will forever remind me of Manchester Orchestra. Not my favorite band, but I kinda like them. Well, only a few songs. The titles make me laugh (yay for my mind always hanging out in the gutter)
The orchestra was playing a concerto, a crescendo of music intermingling and battling with each other in a magnificent piece of mastery. I envied this talent. I despised it. Yet I loved it all the same.
The orchestra was playing beautifully that night; their music tolling high and low as the play progressed. Captivated by the beauty of the sound and the rhythmic movements of the actors on stage he never saw him creep up. Never saw anything at all in fact as Booth fired that fatal bullet…
Orchestra is music collaborated.
So many instruments added together making music together. It is beautiful really.