Tibetan Holy 7 metal bowl variations for X I only love, if it is a steroid week then I am trying so damn hard not to make anyone mad, but my frailty shows and the weak attack. I pray this finds anyone in a welcoming mood and patient for 7 minutes of meditations. I wish to fill it with love for God and for all, I love you even more. Those who seek harm in the world, I must love them. Why? The one living God says so, that’s why. And 800 or 900 years BCE or so, the enlightened Buddha spoke similar and caused waves across the East that l looked into today. I just wish those who claim to have Buddha knowledge have actually reached into his own words over a period of 60 years as guru Gautama Buddha. We are supposed to try to lessen suffering. If someone is in pain from medical procedures or general harm, show compassion. Evil hearts seek to harm. There is much to learn from the two great faiths, being Catholicism and Buddhism. I will not argue. One must believe as they wish, and not condemn the prayerful like some Pilgrim harpy. God is God and the paths are many; I simply chose the Higher and the lower, the middle path, the path we call Mahayana Buddhism, which I have been faithful for most of my life except for a ten year Zen lost during which sobriety occurred and my life began again. Only the vast and mostly true ones of the coast. They are my actions, and no others. To lie and gossip is against the Ninth Commandment, and Gautama spoke of this in the Dhammapada, as well the 500 Buddhas.
(Above Demon Lake) Milarepa Found 3 Demons Easy to Confuse
After reading the songs of Milarepa when he entered his cave above Demon Lake, a famous lake in North India where it is believed an octopus like demon lives. Thing is that the area is amazingly beautiful and the evil from west of there has not yet destroyed the life of this mountain region, where Pakistan cannot earthquakes try, so the Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa continue. Here there were three demons waiting in his meditation and sleeping cave to taunt him and to convince him they were minor angels here to bring him news of God. Milarepa saw the grinning death, as our Southern Blues sees that devil smile grinning into hell, so did he, so he sang them songs to mesmerize them and seduce them into a state of wonder. He was then able to disperse of them, as we should of those around us in whom we see thievery, deception, slothful slinking taking of what is you and these are marks of minor Deceptors. Stare down the shrouds that hide their nature and you will see, and then what? Sing. Charm. Seduce and lead them down into your own “demon lake” and as far away as possible before they suck away every touch of love, peace, in your soul.
To Say God is Love Is All There Is: We destroy his gift of this earth we destroy ourselves, so share love, share God. God is Love and when we Love we Share God: Perhaps I should say “What Is:
I kinda think the title says it all. To Love is to Express God. To Express
God is to Love. There is nothing hidden here. The poetry is the final Steinway play during the last three minutes. Some of these are extremely difficult to play though they may sound similar to other of my work, I guess you could say that in this particular format it is a style. It is my way of prayer, to communicate and to be with the real presence of God. Thank you angry, judgemental Catholics for thinking this is musical heresy, I appreciate the misunderstanding as I have appreciated similar throughout my life. You make my skin thicker and my soul more open to love. I dedicate this to Aaron Julian Wegelin and Liz Kerlin.
April 28 Drone You Wind Blown Spring Drone Me ON
Dawn showed itself and I heard this melodic drone shoveling death wings and swords out of my mind, baring my teeth at death and saying fuck off not yet, I will not play your games, I will not live your lie, no,
not yet you devil’s mate, I will not open all the piles of death letters at my door, I ain’t ready yet, no, not yet, I know when you want me really, Oh I know your drums and fife corps at the rivers edge.
In a Green Field … Darkly … We Mourn
7 levels Yamaha grand, full string orchestra, crotales, timpani, Bossendorfer grand, French horns and probably a string thing or two whispering its way around the orchestration and bombast. It is a eulogy, nonetheless, this is a eulogy. I hope you feel the consoling measures as well as angry timpani and horns here and there. Maybe feel how she smiled, and then a prayer to be had for her life, her soul, and those she loved.
Peace, A Eulogy, A Prayer for A Beloved Departed
This is as in the title, a eulogy, so there are up lifting and joyous moments but the leit motif one of sadness and loss.
Bess Burkett was loved by us all and those beyond. I hope this piece does her justice. I thought on her all night, then worked on this for a few hours, slept a few and started on engineering this Peace and I was fine with it in tone and effect.
She Held His Hand
“I want to tell you a song about a girl, but I can’t find my way back home again, and then we did” Just because I copped a phrase from the original.
Some of the songs have been moved around or lost after I changed format. Hopefully not too much has been changed. This stuff took way more time and effort than I thought it would when I wanted to update the look and categories for the songs. Everything here is also on SoundCloud except for my published poetry and food articles which I hope have not been screwed up.
Source: She Held His Hand (For EK)
A Place Called Here…A Place Named Home
Be Happiness, Be Hope, Be the Love that our dear ones need, but we are also human, and it ain’t easy, money, time, place, the unknown. I fail. I try. I fail again. I try again. I do think I a…
A Place Called Here…A Place Named Home
it is what it is, a song to God among the stars, distant homes, places unknown, the sometimes futile path to Be Happiness even among the worn and weary. Be happiness. If we always were we would never feel so alone. But it’s cool. There is much to be learned, to discover and open up to our loves and friends, to our lives, and that is to Be Happiness, Be the Love that God so openly shares with us all, even in the darkest of days, the most hopeless hours, let the love and patience of the Lored sink in, to be the Happiness, to be the love. I wish I were a better man. My shortcomings surely include this difficulty, but I am trying. We must try to be humane. Sometimes we have to remove ourselves from the draining sadness, but once recharged try again to Be Happiness, Be Hope, Be the Love that our dear ones need, but we are also human, and it ain’t easy, money, time, place, the unknown. I fail. I try. I fail again. I try again. I do think I am alone. I do not believe I am alone. I know I am not alone. We are together, linked in a chain of humanity, one that does not make a slave of us, but one that binds us together, a spiritual chain of wonder and goodness
Children of the Manticore (morning song with two pianos)
This has gone through a dozen transformations from five piece down to two. I was happy with two. Each piano has two different programming techniques. Each note is played. I started on it yesterday, slept, and returned to the piano when I woke up, drinking cardamom tea, so it is radically transformed from what it was in the first four to 11 styles, playing, instruments, everything. Manticore is from Emerson, Lake and Palmer. I have written many dedications to Keith Emerson who we lost last year along with Greg Lake. I attribute their entire work to introducing a generation to modern classical music as well as prog rock. I hope you feel the dedication to an artistic idol in this 8 minute work. Love. Peace. Hope. To all, peace love
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