Music

Folie

Je vois le ciel noir, je vois Neptune.

Les planètes dansent, tourbillonnent !

Je vois les étoiles, je vois la lune.

La lumière du soleil qui résonne !

 

J'entends la mélodie des comètes ! 

Et le silence des trous noirs. 

J'entends le vide, sachansonnette ! 

L'univers danse au rythme des cauchemars.

 

Je suis dans ma chambre. J'ai froid. L'univers chante.

 

J'entends le requiem des étoiles mourantes !

Reliquat de somptueuses géantes

Je vois l'éternité dans ma voie lactée.

Je sens l'hypnose de sa spirale me gagner.

 

Je vois le vide. J'entends le noir

Je suis dans ma chambre, j'ai froid

L'univers chante pour moi.

Further

Folder: 
Studio Recordings

Don’t be Afraid...

its not going to bite you...

just click on the link..

let my music Excite you 

 

https://soundcloud.com/beatnik-records/further

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Soul Trippin’

Folder: 
Studio Recordings

Don’t be afraid, 

youve made it  t h i s  far....

Click on the link to hear my Guitar

 

https://soundcloud.com/beatnik-records/soul-trippin

The Concert Hall

An orchestral flood,

 

Loud and passionate,

 

The music reaches all corners of the Great Concert Hall,

 

A triumphant crescendo.

 

Near silence follows.

 

The tempo changes,

 

The volume drops,

 

A flute whispers.

 

A melody almost childlike,

 

Clear but barely audible.

 

A lullaby or a hymn,

 

Or a love song. Or a poem.

 

The audience listens in tense expectation.

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The Pianist

The pianist lifts his arms,

 

His hands come crashing down.

 

The bass notes growl, an ominous crescendo,

 

Warning of civil unrest and tension,

 

And of a Europe about to go to war.

 

The audience watches,

 

Hoping, praying that war will not come.

 

The pianist pauses, a brief silence that pulsates with uncertainty.

 

He lifts his wrists again, resuming the menacing trill in the bass,

 

His fingers working furiously as the growl grows in volume

 

And the temperature rises in the auditorium.

 

The audience stares.

 

A pause follows, and then a lament,

 

The work of a composer weeping for a lost love, for days gone by,

 

For his country, perhaps, and for his compatriots.

 

The pianist continues to play.

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The Unseen Violinist

The unseen violinist plays late at night;

 

Long drawn out tones that tremble with emotion;

 

A haunting Czardas set in harmonic minor;

 

Flattened Sixths that speak of other worlds;

 

Of longing and beauty and despair.

 

The tempo quickens, the mood switches.

 

The violinist’s bow dances across the strings,

 

Like a wagon speeding across a country path,

 

The sounds of the wheels echoing as the night sky watches.

 

The violinist plays with ease.

 

A lively dance.

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It's Late And I Need To Go To Sleep

Folder: 
Villanelles

It's late and I need to go to sleep.
'Twas giving myself fake expectations
For the light of the moon does creep.

 

There isn't a secret I should keep
That would, in advance, cause excitations.
It's late and I need to go to sleep.

 

Wait! There are musical notes I should leap
Across the beats and instrumentations,
For the light of the moon does creep.

 

Do I have the energy I should reap
For holding mixtapes in glorifications?
It's late and I need to go to sleep.

 

There are lyrics and samples much too deep
For this outsider musicfag in great notations,
For the light of the moon does creep.

 

Pity. Another night lost in the jeep
Of creative ideas, going in vibrations.
It's late and I need to go to sleep
For the light of the moon does creep.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is made on the fly right before I'm going to bed. Plus, this is the first poem I'm posting on Postpoems.org . Isn't that exciting?

Supertramp Blues

Folder: 
Studio Recordings

Don’t be afraid

youve made it this far....

click on the link

to hear my guitar

 

https://soundcloud.com/user-888660817/supertramp-blues