Wednesday, September 9, 2015

temporarily music

In the free world
Do we?
Live like undead slaves?
Do we only move as directed, never dance freely in a whirling wind;
never touch finger to foreign finger for a thrill of acceptance?
Never sing music assimilated within from all the painful days
swirled into revel excitement?  Do we not breathe and inhale airs
unexpected, strange and calling to arcane desire?
Such solemn sensuality.  Vibrant air lingering warm and sweet.
Music of heat rouses drowsy ecstasy.
Theater as intimate ritual.
Images that stay.  Music that accompanies a day’s montage of duties.
Dancers dance.
Musicians play.
Enchanting sylph narrates stories while seductively moving to sinuous
back beat, tick of chimes.  Occasionally emphasizes subtle percussions
with intense expressions, leaps, cunning stumbles, daring fall to crawl
into spellbound sound.  Scheherazade myths, archetypal passion
escapades, poignant weeps, salient shouts to power.
I engage with the power of music.
My passion, my friend, mystic teacher, seeker of meaningful
action, means before ends.  Feel each instant’s music move in tune.
Reach into balance within limits of room, laws of motion, draw of ecstasy.
No pattern to prove – extemporaneous.  Each mood enhances expressive
release, stretch for a piece reflective and deep.
Remade in music, not just while it’s playing.
Ordered vibrations cosset, hold like a heart-bound twin.
Sad biographies, personalities grandiose or subdued,
but delusions.  Substitute equivalent qualities sold as sums
that define identity.  Told how to hear or say.  Mere chatter,
in the way ideations whether profound or silly are spread. 
Sound from will, music imbues momentum,
interweaves with what keeps us who we become, overcome.




Do we? Live like undead slaves?
Do we only move as directed, never dance freely in a whirling wind;
never touch finger to foreign finger for a thrill of acceptance?
Never savor music assimilated within from all the exhausted nights
swirled into revel excitement? Do we not breathe and inhale airs
unexpected, strangely calling to arcane desire?
Such solemn sensuality. Vibration lingering warm and sweet.
Music of heat rouses drowsy ecstasy.
Images that stay. Music that accompanies a day’s montage of duties.
Musicians play. Enchanting sylph narrates stories to sinuous
back beat, tingle of chimes, subtle percussions, intense expressions,
leaps, cunning stumbles, daring falls, crawl into spellbound sound.
Scheherazade myths, archetypal passion escapades,
poignant weeps, salient shouts to power.
Passionate friend, mystic teacher, seeker of meaningful action,
means before ends. Feel each instant’s music move in tune. Reach
into balance within limits of room, laws of motion, draw of elation.
Extemporaneous. Each mood enhances majestic release,
stretch for a piece reflective and deep. Remade in music,
not just while it’s playing. Ordered vibrations cosset, hold like a
heart-bound twin. Will-fueled tonation, music imbues momentum,

interweaves, keeps up incentive to become, overcome.

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