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Cheek to Cheek
ぽんず
良ございますですなぁ～(^.^ )
#月下虫音
6
そら(sor
ミチシルベとかBAMBOOとかCRUISIN'とか頑張ろうぜーい
#IMP.
#IMP大好き
7
そら
#toHEROes_大阪day1
#IMP_CheektoCheek
#shutter2BAKI #IMP.
4
みくに
IMP.インライみて
IMP.新曲Cheek to CheekのMVみて
最高だったなぁぁん
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のえる
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Ryo
詩：赤や黄色の光と花 Morning whisper
君は
僕の耳元で
優しく
囁く
朝ですよ
僕は
ゆっくり
寝返りをうちながら
伸びをして
おはよう
その瞬間に
君は
僕に飛びつく
柔らかい
君の頬
僕は
君を抱きしめ
見つめ合う
朝の陽を
部屋に感じながら
-戒-
-全ての恋人達に捧ぐ-
Poetry.
"Morning whisper"
You whisper
gently
by my ear,
It's morning.
I turn slowly,
stretching,
Good morning,
In that moment,
You leap
into my arms,
Your soft cheek
against mine,
I hold you close,
our eyes meet,
Feeling the morning sun
fill the room.
-Kai-
God bless you.
Dedicated to all lovers.
Dolly, Op. 56: No. 3 in E-Flat Major, Le Jardin de Dolly
2
モーニン
All things you are (Key G)
On a Clear Day
I'll be seeing you
Almost like being love
Cheek to CheeK (Key F)
The Christmas Song (Key G & Bossa)
Afternoon Paris
White Christmas
やった事ない曲もあるし、なんなら昨日聴いたばかりの曲もあるし、いつもと違うキーでやるけど、皆んな上手いから何とかなるハズ！
(他人任せ😜)
#音声ルーム企画応援団
JAZZの星
163
ぽやん
Vulnerable enough—
like a willow bowed by longing.
I lift my trembling palm
to pain.
The wind—
fevered, tender—
kisses the ache upon my face.
A rain of memory descends—
droplets burn
through hush and air.
Something unnamed,
still breathing,
stirs where silence keeps its prayer.
The voiceless wound still beats
within—
a pulse of love too deep for words,
a nameless bloom,
forgiven
for daring to exist.
And I,
within a single breath,
have spent my soul
to taste that life.
You—
my once-forgotten self—
when I turn
and meet your gaze,
shadow will not forsake me,
nor will I forsake you.
A childlike grace,
within the mirror, whispers:
“You need not hide anymore.”
Then—
dawnlight weeps.
A single tear,
warm as sunrise,
wanders down my cheek.
Truth speaks not—
it burns
within the between—
between dawn and dying day,
between silence and the heart’s soft refrain,
between forgetting
and the rest of peace.
There,
in that fevered seam of light,
life becomes
a tear
of moon and fire.
And within its quiet gleam,
you heal my future.
自作の詩の星249なな
A journey across lands, within a heart.
I set off on a quiet journey, alone.
A soul in search—
for something unseen,
something lost within.
In Japan,
the soft chorus of autumn insects
followed the footsteps
of evening walks with my dog.
The air was clear,
crisp as glass,
and the rice fields whispered—
leaves rustling like distant waves,
waiting patiently
for harvest time to come.
Golden stalks, heavy with life,
bowed low,
as if listening
for the right moment to be released.
In the Philippines,
the sea shimmered in endless blue.
From Cebu to Malapascua,
then El Nido—
I chased the edge of the horizon.
I dove beneath the surface,
hoping the depths might answer me.
But what I was searching for
remained quiet,
somewhere beyond coral and salt.
Kalanggaman—
an uninhabited island
shaped like a kiss
between two drifting shores.
I whispered to the wind,
“One day,
I want to camp here with you.”
In Thailand,
on Khaosan Road,
I followed the map scribbled
in Lonely Planet’s margins.
Pad Thai sizzled,
foreign voices filled the air—
it hardly felt like Asia at all.
Or perhaps,
a Western village
planted in Southeast soil.
Like a scene from The Beach,
neon and nostalgia intertwined.
From Bangkok’s alleys,
I drifted south
toward Phuket’s waiting coast.
In Vietnam,
ao dai whispered through humid air,
pho steamed in quiet bowls,
and sudden rain
washed away even the noise.
I quarreled with a motorbike driver,
then laughed,
alone on a borrowed scooter
chasing the perfect bánh mì
through night markets
alive with spice and neon.
From Da Nang to Hoi An,
the road curled like smoke—
and the noodles I ate alone
tasted like courage.
In Bali,
the night chanted with fire.
Kecak dancers circled flame,
and I lay beneath a net,
dreaming in whispers.
I met my mother,
shared mint cucumber water,
and let time soften
what silence could not.
Spa hands pressed memory into skin.
Coconut paths led to Ubud,
where an amaryllis bloomed
quietly in a rice terrace—
as if it, too,
had been waiting.
In the Maldives,
spices clung to the air—
saffron, cumin, memory.
I wandered the morning market,
and in the mosque’s quiet breath,
wrapped myself in stillness
and modesty.
Malé felt too small
for the loneliness I carried.
Even land seemed to shrink
beneath the weight in my chest.
On Maafushi,
romance shimmered
just out of reach.
Stingrays in the shallows
played near my feet—
but the rendezvous
never reached my soul.
In Istanbul,
gulls cried over the Bosphorus,
and the wind tasted like salt and scripture.
At Hagia Sophia,
bells echoed in my ribs,
and a cup of tea
warmed something
colder than skin.
The bazaar twisted like a dream,
each alley a whisper
of spice and silk.
I felt both lost and found,
held in the hum of ancient prayers.
In Paris,
light fell gently
on bowls of pho
and broken mornings.
A stranger—madame—
offered me kindness.
When she said au revoir,
my eyes betrayed me.
Her kiss on my cheek
was the kind of goodbye
that aches for a lifetime.
At Sacré-Cœur,
I surrendered
to a grief I hadn’t named—
let it spill like stained glass
onto the quiet hill.
In Italy,
a single rose bloomed
on the table beside my risotto.
I watched pizza spin
in the hands of artisans
who touched the dough
like a living thing.
Warm laughter filled the streets—
a kindness without question.
In Spain,
tapas flickered beneath golden lights.
Gaudí’s stones reached for the sky,
and I coughed quietly
into thyme tea
as the sun dipped behind
Barcelona’s silhouette.
In Hungary,
steam curled from bathhouse tiles,
and friendship stirred
like the first warmth
after a long frost.
But fever came.
And so did silence.
I lay still in a guesthouse bed,
feeling eyes that saw me
as something other.
Even kindness
had a border that day.
In Morocco and Jordan,
I followed the scent of saffron
through souks that twisted like vines.
Tajine reminded me of home.
The kindness of strangers,
rooted in the Qur’an,
wrapped around me like linen.
In mountain towns dyed blue,
I shrank into myself—
then slowly breathed again
in the calm of dry air
and starlit nights.
What I searched for—
I never found.
Not in the oceans,
not in the prayers,
not in the heat or the hunger.
But in every step,
something remained.
The scent of mint and sea,
the rhythm of unknown tongues,
the silence after parting—
they live inside me now.
I returned
with nothing in my hands,
but everything
in my heart.
What was missing
was never meant
to be found—
It was meant
to be felt.
And now,
it blooms quietly
inside me—
like a flower
no one else sees.
3
やまだ
sing sing singは特にね！！！いい？？？？🥲🥲🥲
3
Gene
【Where Is the Love? – The Black Eyed Peas】
2003年リリース、The Black Eyed Peasの代表曲。
差別やテロ、暴力に対する疑問を投げかけ、「世界に必要なのは愛だ」と強く訴えかける社会派ソングです。
今日、カーク氏が暗殺されるという痛ましいニュースがありました。
こうした暴力を目の当たりにすると、この曲の問いかけがより一層胸に響きます。
「なぜ人は憎しみに走るのか、どこへ行ってしまったのか愛は？」というメッセージは、今こそ心に留めたいものです。
歌詞の一部ではこう歌われています：
🎤 "People killin’, people dyin’
Children hurt and you hear them cryin’
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek?"
（人は殺し、また人は死ぬ
子どもたちは傷つき泣いている
君は自分の言葉を実践できるか
片方の頬を差し出せるか？）
暴力ではなく愛を――。その願いを込めて、今日の一曲に選びました。
#BlackEyedPeas #WhereIsTheLove #洋楽紹介 #今日の1曲 #反暴力
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