M U S I C a n d P O E T R Y

Saud from Dubai says hi to me on a beautiful windy day
as Jael plays tunes loud on campus,
OCCUPY banner hanging nearby, protest in the air..
good day today but twitter won't let me tweet it.
I like to see people sitting on the grass...
I am sort of on my way to bibliography class..
I remember a lot, teaching LG his math,
music lets you meditate and see introspectively Jael tells me,
and I agree. As the protest became a part of me.
I adopted his place, and the beat goes on,
the big blue that foresees the overnight flights to come
of the wavy white and the Northern star.

संसार

samsara

the wheel turns, in the past, we are here, we are there
i vow to always be here in the now, where i am.

Inspiration Infinite

The first piece of electronic music made for record by Morton Subotnick.



The Song of Wandering Aengus

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

William Butler Yeats

虚無僧

Et in Arcadia ego

the agency of the cognitive

Iamblichus, Porphyry, Plotinus - the later Pythagoreans


Creativity is, for us, at present, the most powerful tool we have to use in striving to harmonize being among our contradictories.
-Benjamin Boretz, Interface V

Writing upside down, writing invisible.
Correlations in my head to be imagination.
Never stop the balance of silence, movement energy and stillness.
Somehow we have came to be in this invisible time,
where it seems like a fleeting forever.
At a loss accompanied by the misery of Nosferatu,
though I finally got my new shoes.
I have the desire to feel the activation of my senses.
I feel that coincidences make the most sense.
One day in the end, will we be without our senses.
We will be infinite and radiant as the flickering light into which we stare.
Why do I feel a hostage as my instrument in this life form?
An organic machine simply to channel color, light and sound.
Why have I never been as sonic as a thunder storm?
The immutable boundless light is forever.
The senses can be fooled.
We all identify with that card, indefinitely,
Considering the rules...
My best friend is my imagination.
I love when it runs away with me.

The Break of Day (L'Aurore), by Paul Delvaux July 1937. Oil on canvas, 60.3 x 48.2 inches (120 x 150.5 cm). The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Venice 76.2553.103. © 2009 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York/SABAM, Brussels




Never seen so many records in my life. Reignite where I once was. Tree human to be.

Music is a spiritual practice...

as well as the occurrence of physics.

word for the day

vogel is the German word for bird

opposite of tone row echoes

reflecting waves of whispers

here and gone forever

my stars rain jellybeans

your eyes are E-metric

geometric tears of light

how do you say...

Stimme is voice

and in this case the face

and song is song

shining bright in the late day

Create, hallucinate, committed to crossing over
intersections of energy and unexpected exertion
of movement, wind spirits fluttering the leaves,
gentle on my skin, as my breath, as we are taken out of the known
the world, here and gone sitting still and unseen
Sense in what is lost, no sense in what is forced,
besides the natural force of gravity.
we are doing what we can to express our love and not feed angst
pushing colors and sounds
passing through the realms
a diversified singularity found within each
reflexive interpretation, i trust the roads in my hands
filling existence with wonderment,
forgetting what happens and remembering my dreams,
the fluent streams of melodies
that enrich my consciousness, sharing what i hear and see
tapping into out there where i dance all day and night
in a dress made of leaves. I live where reality is not defined.
Seasons and light are what compose time.
One day will not be a day but will infinitely be our spirit.