Protest Discord Melodic Despise Trump Drone


AN AMERICAN NIGHTMARE IN ORANGE AND GREY

This is a protest song. I despise the new president, am ashamed of his inaugural speech and have nothing good at all to say of him. Tell my close friends and family you are worried because this is a discordant and melodic, awful vocals, distorted to squeeks and squawks in some parts and is hateful, just all out spiteful and hateful for the beast in chief. If you know you will dislike it and need to tell me I am an idiot and antiAmerican dumbass, fine, First Amedment allows us this pleasure just be nicer to me than I am towards that family.. I will delete it anyway. That aside, I hope you give it a chance. Hear it as modernist, as protest and for the craft. I worked 12 hours finalizing it. It is not easy to sing as badly as I do. I do not understand why people like him, and when they try to tell me they always turn devilish and mean which speaks volumes more than my paltry work. Peace, Love, Hope.

I wish it used the attached photo when I post to FB or other sources instead of photo of me in heaven with Hong Kong Cuisine.

Symphony #9 Electronica: Planetary Distance and that of Simply A Hug, a Love (3 parts, first is dissonant so be prepared)


It starts out harsh and dissonant, and as each movement swells into presence it becomes more melodic and warm, until the end where it bounces back and forth as if indecisive and confused, which is the nature of human kind, the subject of this work, until it reaches a point of coherence and affection, of love and the need to be felt, to be held and just to hear the words “I Love You”. That is what this symphony in 3 parts is about, is what it is which is why the comparison to planetary distance. It is as if the world today has become a place of dissonance and gossip, of slander, of fear, of the inability to simply hug one another and say “It’s cool” rather than to pursue hate and argument. Just say It’s Cool, and move on to what is the heart and soul of us all, individual and as a people. Love. Love. Love.

Distant Neptune, of why our ethos, our heart, our fever dreams


I was thinking about….as so many things begin…of ethics and necessity. Distant planet one and the song undulating forever in our preconscious not knowing if to play in happiness or to recover the message and sustained artifacts of the struggle over being and decay, of becoming and destruction, of why. Yeah, just ending with “of why.”

Meditations: I heard this (for LK darling)


 

Meditation on the planets. As we receive the slow songs emanating from the spiraling vibrations of the planets as Voyager goes further and further hearing whale songs around the rings of Neptune, vibrations of asteroids, gongs banging as comets pass; these things beyond that are not us give more than most may ever understand. So we push against the gates of Gog and Magog, praying the orange beast is conquered before his Emperor worm spreads out against the winter sky.

Prayer for Peace-One Sweet Note There Was Conflict No More



The waters wash away all that remains. Resolution and awakening. The soul must breath. The spirit lives on.

Prayer for Peace-Clamor and the Beast


This is part one of a two part Prayer, always signified by two bars in the song but not always as peaceful but as driven. This is a driven work. Stick with it,the music will deliver.  The photo is just irony. Pure irony. I don’t eat meat     Love. Peace.

Peach is the Color of Blood Sunsets


Call it ambient if you will. I’m fine with it. Long, peaceful, an orchestration for the many sunsets I bleed into on the western coast far above and beyond the sprays and honks of San Francisco, before Orange County came to the Sonoma and Mendocino coast and fenced in the glory, before the cartels took over the mountains for manic weed production surrounded by automatic rifles, barbed wire, booby traps and other things of the Reagan War on Drugs. Dumb. Just a dumb thing to do, hand over vision and replace it with knives and BMWs.

All in all, it’s a tone poem.

When Asteroids Collide


If you enjoy the sound of various synths, arps, organ and squeeky things then you will have fun.

Prayer for Peace: Among the Streams


This is more in I guess you call it a book of songs, Prayer for Peace. This one is carried along by the mellotron with strings. I played this third section after I felt the bar that identifies a Prayer for Peace needed a base, something to carry it along into the spirit, not the heart or mind. So yes, I continue to write music rather than poetry and it is kind of strange. I have never gone this long away from the poem itself by moving the poem into being an instrumental. I hope whoever may hear this finds the intention realized.

Tone poem and prayer. Suite for Piano and Mellotron


Sometimes words are lost, meanings confused and everything becomes twisted out of shape. So, music.
I pray for healing and that the Veil of Mary protect and speed her body and soul to the beauty that is her.

proletaria

politics philosophy phenomena

Poems for Warriors

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Ps 147:3

LUNA

Pen to paper

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

Eclipsed Words

Aspire To Inspire

susansflowers

garden ponderings

RhYmOpeDia

Immature poet imitate...but the mature one steal from the depth of the heart

hotfox63

IN MEMORY EVERYTHING SEEMS TO HAPPEN TO MUSIC - Tennessee Williams

Lordess

Welcome to my world.

Discobar Bizar

Welkom op de blog van Discobar Bizar. Druk gerust wat op de andere knoppen ook, of lees het aangrijpende verhaal van Harry nu je hier bent. Welcome to the Discobar Bizar blog, feel free to push some of the other buttons, or to read the gripping story of Harry whilst you are here!

the poet's billow

a resource for moving poetry

MY TROUBLED MIND

confessions are self-serving

D.H. Glass

Author. Poet.

Sketches from Berlin (& Parts Beyond)

Poetry, Fiction, Essays & Art by M.P. Powers

proletaria

politics philosophy phenomena

Poems for Warriors

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Ps 147:3

LUNA

Pen to paper

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

Eclipsed Words

Aspire To Inspire

susansflowers

garden ponderings

RhYmOpeDia

Immature poet imitate...but the mature one steal from the depth of the heart

hotfox63

IN MEMORY EVERYTHING SEEMS TO HAPPEN TO MUSIC - Tennessee Williams

Lordess

Welcome to my world.

Discobar Bizar

Welkom op de blog van Discobar Bizar. Druk gerust wat op de andere knoppen ook, of lees het aangrijpende verhaal van Harry nu je hier bent. Welcome to the Discobar Bizar blog, feel free to push some of the other buttons, or to read the gripping story of Harry whilst you are here!

the poet's billow

a resource for moving poetry

MY TROUBLED MIND

confessions are self-serving

D.H. Glass

Author. Poet.

Sketches from Berlin (& Parts Beyond)

Poetry, Fiction, Essays & Art by M.P. Powers

proletaria

politics philosophy phenomena

Poems for Warriors

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Ps 147:3

LUNA

Pen to paper

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

Eclipsed Words

Aspire To Inspire

susansflowers

garden ponderings

RhYmOpeDia

Immature poet imitate...but the mature one steal from the depth of the heart

hotfox63

IN MEMORY EVERYTHING SEEMS TO HAPPEN TO MUSIC - Tennessee Williams

Lordess

Welcome to my world.

Discobar Bizar

Welkom op de blog van Discobar Bizar. Druk gerust wat op de andere knoppen ook, of lees het aangrijpende verhaal van Harry nu je hier bent. Welcome to the Discobar Bizar blog, feel free to push some of the other buttons, or to read the gripping story of Harry whilst you are here!

the poet's billow

a resource for moving poetry

MY TROUBLED MIND

confessions are self-serving

D.H. Glass

Author. Poet.

Sketches from Berlin (& Parts Beyond)

Poetry, Fiction, Essays & Art by M.P. Powers