This is a concerto I have had in my mind for a while and was just able to play and edit it late and today. It is love.
But there are those who think if I name them FB will be onto them. If you are on FB you are known way beyond your imagination. A lovely concerto for those I love who despise my naming them for thanks or simply as an act of positive action, I apologize for the pain I have caused you. So here is a nameless concerto that ends in a pretty beautiful two or three minute solo piano extension on an idea of right vision and right speech as forms of expelling the hardened heart and allowing the love to exist rather than to destroy what is good and positive. Be good and positive. One of my beloved said to get over the friends who reacted out of hate. But it’s hard for me. I believe in the positive power of friendship so much that even in the face of hatred or negativity I must offer love and do not harm. No matter the struggles and harms of this life there is still the love and years of friendship worth keeping rather than burying it over some gossip and forms of misalliance. always remember, there is a “hide from timeline” button so no one will know you know me or are beloved even if you yield a hammer over honest conditions. Be love. Peace. Be love now.
I am still working on bringing the poetry back into my writings which is what I have published the most (350 and two books), but until the muse returns to bless me again for leaving her behind in times of pain and struggle, I must create so in music is my poetry and I hope that you feel the poetry, the words to my beloveds and those who seek harm and distance over the friendship that stood strong for so long. I pray for them. I meditate on their actions. It’s all I can do. I’ve called and went to voicemail and left loving messages but no return. I guess some things must be accepted as they are no matter how great the anger towards for things I do not even know I did that were so socially wrong that by being me and speaking openly, living openly as me and me alone, I have broken social moral codes that are unforgivable; yet I have no idea what secret handshakes and magic words I have missed. But I still love. I still care. I would do anything for them. But they choose to make me an outcast and I am OK being in the margins, not like it’s new. SO, when words are denied me I go for music as my vehicle and inspiration.
I hope you enjoy. I hope you feel the poetry and love that is this concerto
This is a less rambling lost and messy version than one earlier. I hope it is. After a while when I am working in several different mediums it is easy to get lost in God, in the third circle/level of beauty and ugliness beheld before the heart is given all to see and all to feel. I cut it in half and used wave form sound patterns as it progresses but it is still an angry work and anger is the target aimed at in dawn mists to shed this skin and bring myself back into the love of Tara, Buddha and Guan Shin Yi once again.
This is experimental noise poem. Me vox, 4 Tibetan singing bowls concentrating on two primarily and echo phase strings so there is a more ominous undercurrent throughout. This may be a download with book, I don’t know. It may still not be distorted enough as I passed out working on editing at the very end and lost all I had served as a movement between rooms of the vast to claustrophobic drone upon drone.
the title says it all. I was meditating and all of a sudden an image of the three branches of government being destroyed crossed across my eyes, a screaming in my ears, the sense of fear when all the hairs on your are are standing up, and the 25th Amendment revealed. What can I say? Do I want to see him removed or swinging from old hickory strung up like treasonous officials once were, and in China you get have the bullet sent to you but you must also buy the bullet, so it would be a nice adornment for the bride of Frankenstein or Groper In Chief and his puppy Paul false Catholic Ryan as The Smirk, as I prefer.
The Sound of 3 Branches of Government Burning Down, All Cowards Inside – 5:17:17, 9.20 AM by H Lamar Thomas is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
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.
Extended. new piano track, drum track. When I finished i realized I had been so sick for a month that all I wanted to do was see a revolution in this land of ours. Toss all government workers elected or not off the payroll and start over with people who pass civics tests, who have studied the humanities, who understand more than two languages, who are not fascists, who see government as for the people, to elect those who READ legislation, find the insurance Paul Ryan types and Paul Ryan and hang him on nearest lynching tree you can find right next to fat empty headed me me me shit for brains Trump. Burn this shithouse down and start again. INSURANCE FOR ALL> and the government workers from the bottom up have the same as we do and they lost it after their terms, no lifetime on our dime. There is a philosophy in this work of music and that is it, and more. And if not, dig the sounds and feel the dawn open up her eye to the world below. Very few souls are left to see.
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.
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.