Someone promised to wait.
To wait beyond.
Beyond the hourglasses and the mounds of swollen flesh.
Beyond the cuneiform codices, the spiral labyrinths, the bone flutes of extinct birds.
Past the pyramids of time and the colossal granite dolmens slumbering beneath Antarctic glaciers.
But no one came back.

The song is the lament of those who still hope to say goodbye.
To say goodbye fiercely—with their eyes, with their hands, with everything that exists beyond the body.
To part with such violence that reality thins, and the blazing ground of grass takes on the texture of dragonfly wings.
The voice of the one still waiting calls out, demands, roars through the wound that a heavy slab carved with the word “LOVE” can barely cauterize.
The slab of a forgotten grave, in a windswept cemetery on the Atlantic coast.
At the edge of a cliff where—warmed by magma beating to the phases of the moon—earth, ocean, and sky fuse together: into amber, into lead, into cobalt.

When those who wait begin to sing, their voices pierce the unyielding concrete of nuclear reactors, the crust of the earth, the frozen core of the gas giants in the solar system.
Their voices rattle dead loudspeakers, tear through the white noise of radios lost in the ether, whisper in the echoes of abandoned cathedrals, and sigh in crackling exhaustion through the worn-out waiting rooms of hospitals.

You can’t stop their voices from rearing up inside your eardrum, nesting forever in the synapses of your auditory nerve—so you can carry them far.
Perhaps all the way to the one who never received the goodbye.

Pictures: Lht
----
Alguien prometió esperar. Esperar más allà. Más allá de los relojes de arena y de los montículos de carne tumefacta. Más allá de los códices cuneiformes, de los laberintos en espiral, de las flautas de hueso de pájaros extintos. Allende las pirámides del tiempo y los colosales dólmenes de granito que dormitan bajo glaciares antárticos. Pero nadie volvió.

La canción es el lamento de los que esperan poder despedirse. Despedirse intensamente. Con los ojos, con las manos, con todo lo que hay más allá del cuerpo, despedirse con tal violencia que la realidad se adelgace y el suelo fulgurante de hierba adquiera consistencia de alas de libélula. La voz de quien aún espera reclama, inquiere, brama a través de la herida que una pesada losa con la palabra "AMOR" apenas logra cauterizar. La losa de una tumba olvidada, en un remoto cementerio azotado por el viento del Atlántico. Al borde de un acantilado donde, calentados por un magma que late siguiendo las fases de la luna, tierra, océano y cielo se fusionan; en ámbar, en plomo, en cobalto.

Cuando cantan los que esperan, sus voces atraviesan el hormigón implacable de los reactores nucleares, la corteza de la tierra, el núcleo congelado de los gigantes gaseosos del sistema solar. Sus voces sacuden altavoces desconectados, rasgan el ruido blanco de las radios perdidas en el éter, susurran en las reverberaciones de catedrales abandonadas, y suspiran crepitantes en las extenuadas salas de espera de los hospitales.

No puedes evitar que sus voces se te enjirafen al tímpano y aniden eternamente en las sinapsis de tu nervio auditivo, para que las lleves bien lejos. Tal vez hasta quien no pudo recibir el adiós.

Llévame lejos

2025-08-06

an orchestra sounded from the darkness

a track by Marco Lucchi reworked by Mean Flow

Mean Flow & Marco Lucchi - E.F.S. n1

method: all the sounds you hear, apart from the voice, stem from a piano that is more than moderately out of tune, most of them morphed by audacity and samplitude
image: copyright jo richter

wunderbar geborgen / copyright jo richter

am wunderstumpfen ende
einer zweispur-einbahnstraße
senkt sich eines planers wendeplatte
zwischen steile bordsteingrate
in deren runden schenkels wölbung
die allerletzte eiderente ein
einzelei ausbrütet - solch memento
prospektiver nostalgie lädt
karrussellgenau zum grübelkreisen
ein, zum rasend innehalten

wunderbar geborgen

A tune recorded in WaveMapper. This is from the soundtrack to the 1988 film by Japanese director Akari Ito. The film explores the how a young boy called Hinta as he dreams of a world of mystic castles, ravens and ghosts in dunes. 

Themes From Forgotten Films Vol 2:Ghost In The Dunes

An atonal, twelve-tone composition, taking some inspiration from the Webern approach to atonal music and just making it very compact. To me that approach legitimately does make the atonal "sound" easier to digest. Bite-sized pieces. Hope you enjoy!

Verde

24 6 8

Illusive Star (2025)

ab chaos

stramon

Homecoming

revealing in the dark
the sadness of things
a fisherman's torch

by: Tagami Kikusha

609
Tagami Kikusha (1753-1826) was a Japanese multi-disciplinary artist and Buddhist nun, mostly known as a poet, painter, calligrapher, and tea practitioner.

Haiku by Tagami Kikusha

Picture by Michael Shannon

This haiku poem is part of the Naviar haiku music challenge, where artists are invited to make music in response to a weekly assigned haiku poem. Participation is free and there are no limitations in the songs’ length or genre.

For information on how to make a submission, visit the Naviar Haiku Music Challenge page.
https://www.naviarrecords.com/haiku-music-challenge/

SONG 119 - NaviarHaiku609 - Revealing in the Dark

Exploring music theory and ambient electronics.

SONG 119 - NaviarHaiku609 - Revealing in the Dark

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