After I
Have gotten drunk
And danced
I remember
There are things
I’m supposed to have
And I check
My pockets
In a sober moment
For my wallet
And keys
August 08, 2021 at 04:37PM
Category: Muse-ick
Always alone
Is the aloneness
A musician experiences
On stage
Performing for a crowd
Any different
Than the aloneness
They experienced
When they played
Just for themselves?
August 08, 2021 at 04:17PM
Before the band comes on
The stage is set
For the band to come on
The musicians
Are doomed to play
They could not
Walk out onto that stage
And do anything other
Than play
Their instruments
Are already set out for them
The opener has already
Come on and gone
The crowd has waited
For long enough
They could not come out
And take a nap
They could not come out
And eat lunch
There is not a single other thing
They could do
Other than walk out
Onto that stage
And play
Like we all expect them to
August 08, 2021 at 02:53PM
Electric pianist
The young musicians
Played on a rug
Laid on the tile
In San Jose
For a crowd of mostly tourists
And a few locals
The pianist
Was better than the other three
Combined
He played the electric keyboard
And varied the sound
All over the place
Hunching his shoulders over the keys
And then leaning back
In the old, tattered office chair on wheels
That he was sitting in
His fingers jumped
From key
To key
Like grasshoppers
Making sounds of pressed
And held
Passion
Taking off
And landing
I don’t know much
About music
But I can feel
When someone else is feeling it
And I could feel the pianist
Feeling himself
And everyone else there
Feeling him
May 27, 2021 at 06:07PM
When the music stops
The mood changes. Why does that happen? Today we went to the park. It’s Halloween. There was a cement area with a white oval painted. People in costumes were roller skating around the circle. There were two particular skaters who were quite good. They were dressed as a pirate and a bumble bee. A large speaker in the center of the oval played disco music. We watched them dance—spinning in circles, standing up on the toes of their skates, bending low. And then the music stopped. They kept dancing, but less passionately, and it wasn’t the same. For us watching, the dancers now seemed out of place. But why? Where is that place that music takes us?
Half notes
My heart sings off-key
For the half notes
That never got to whole
My hands beat a doldrum
Into the desk
Checking my watch
Every five minutes
Waiting for this day
To finally finish
So I can escape
To something else
Anything else
I can only whistle one tune
For so long
Until I forget the sound
Of all other tunes
And the hope of music
Becomes just
The senseless noise
Of that one tune
Hearing feeling
Having sex
While listening
To Sanskrit chant
Channeling
Into physical bodies
What would otherwise
Be only audible
For ears to hear
Senses mingle
In the heights
Of ecstasy
And ears
Start to hear
What skin is feeling
untitled
I touch her skin softly
Like an instrument
That I hope will sing for me
In the silence of the night
age
Climbing stairs
In socks
My toes crack
And knees pop
Like a band
Playing a song
Called age
untitled
Sleepy somber sweet time notes
Leaving longer knee-high modes
Making mostly meager half rhymes
Seeking timbre needle thick lines
Needing no more they say lies
Singing one too many times
City symphony
Outside the window
In the morning
A song bird
Sings soprano
And a car horn
Beeps baritone
Slightly more symphonic
Than the city sounds
I am used to
Harmony
Sometimes
the sounds around
harmonize
with the music playing
from the speaker—
the honk outside
matches a high pitch
or the door lock
clicks right when
the cymbal crashes
washing my hands
shaking my hands
washed
spattering drops
in the metal basin
making music
rain
all at once
stop
then spatter
and start again
private concert
turn up
the trance
in my AirPods
to drown out
the radio
that plays
in the car
i share
with strangers
that could be
nice people;
i’ll never know
dead pods
in the height
of a song
my AirPods die
so i must make
my own music
for the time being
until i can get
to an outlet
boat party
i close my eyes off into musical light ecstasy dancing to the rhythm of abstract shapes moving colorful behind my eyelids before opening my eyes to meet a harsh defined reality where colors are bordered in definite shapes and move again according to math instead of according to the feeling of dance
Eyelid light show
The light show on the back of your closed eyelids is arguably better than the real light show with your eyes open.
Music is good
Loud music gets me high. I close my eyes and know nothing else. It covers me and gives the darkness a quality of warmth, like the dark is hugging me. Blinking when the cymbal claps. I worry about getting up with it and having to get down later, like climbing a tree that is easier to climb up than down. Why are you dualist about this? I ask myself. Music is good. Don’t worry about getting down. Maybe you’ll grow wings or find a rope. Go with it, I tell myself.