@michelle-eaton: Boo! Thank you Michelle. I had this one tucked away for some time, decided to make it public again for a bit...

Wonderful atmosphere, beautiful song Darius. Thank you! :)

These poignant pauses make this track so beautifully unbearable.  The images linger long after the last note has faded away...  Just lovely.

Wonderful and inspiring. Makes a movie in my head.

haunted vocal darius ha ha...great sound, lovely lyric :)

Vincent is a piece that was inspired by my admiration for Vincent van Gogh.  
Imagine him walking in Arles. 
Composer: Pamela Illanes-Tatsuoka
Video made by: Pamela Illanes-Tatsuoka
Music directly from my Finale software!!
@2021Pamela Illanes-Tatsuoka.All Rights Reserved
I made a video for YouTube:
https://youtu.be/fvI6JI5JqNQ

Vincent

BUT THE KIDS ARE CRYING

Daddy 
Daddy...

Why did you call me back? 
When I said I was leaving, later today?

Da da da da daa

Still don't love ya
Still don't love ya
Still don't love ya

Why did you call me back? 
When I said I was leaving, later today?


© Phil McWalter Feb 2022

But The Kids Are Crying

Composed, played, recorded and mixed by Davor Dojchinovich. 
Recorded at Happy Cloud Studio Seattle, Master Powered by Dolby 4/12/2022.
Davor: Piano, Bass Guitars,  Keyboards, Percussions, Drums Programming, Sampling and Production.

Seabird***

Ambient 8

Supremacy

Allen Ginsberg reads Sunflower Sutra: www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVjMKMogTDY
Music: Copyright Stonerjazz, the maestro @user-911083679
Lyrics: copyright jo richter (apart from the short section by A.G. in the beginning, of course)
Note: The poem was written as a tribute to the music that Jeff created first.

This is the e-bow dao
the epitome of transformation
the electro-magnetic, eternal feedback of bliss
powered by a universe condensed in a metal casing
evoking a universe that unfolds neural cavities
to reverb vibrations in all hues and colours
especially those unseen before.

This is the process to end all states
and free the butterfly that is Chuang-Tse
from the shackles of dire duality
and make him join the cyberpunk hobos
riding right through glitchy illusions
flickering inside of doorframe screens.

This is the call to all end-of-time locos
to unpeople the karmic metaverse plains
and behold! that they can‘t help arriving
but can stop making sensations mundane
by comparing, by judging, by interpretation
- a cycle is run when met by the same
and knowledge ends when the river flows on.

This is thew Heraclitus
this is the yarn Penelope knits
Verdandi‘s weird realm of manifestation
the abyss‘ rim of black-hole horizons
where Enkidu talks to wild beasts and trees
where Gallifrey breeds reincarnation
with each fatal shootout of chi-spawned seeds.

This is the e- bow dao
Aphrodite reborn in spring-sponging foam
you‘ll lose your belongings, your security clearing
the servers on this farm are all interlinked
with the waveform dimensions
that keep breeding, breeding
new life out of old
turning lead into gold
vanishing when you try to hold on

E - BOW DAO ( Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches)a poem by Jo Richter

Lost my father just before Christmas and got me thinking about life in general. Im in my sixties myself found this Vocal and a wonderful picture on Facebook came up with this track.
Hope you like it

Older

I wrote this for Townes several years ago. Recorded on a Zoom H-1

Townes would have been 80 on March 7th.  Brilliant, sad, self-destructive singer-songwriter.

No Place To Fall

I composed this piece with the image of a swing in a rainy park.

In the park

(I had this tune hidden away for some time, bringing it back out for a spell)

BARE THORNS

Your black heart survived the fall,
then moved like an unnatural thing.
A bleak mist that slid and crawled,
 a shadow behind everything.

When the window’s a door, taken by the memory,
of creepers and vines; a scrambled moon, in the night like breath,
naked, and growing roots down into the needle’s pines.

Don’t just sit there and neigh, it’s a new day,
in the rows, see the garden it grows?
Don’t worry about the Sun in the gloom, 
it’s a knight for when light is doom.

The floor is unswept, strewn with the memories of photographs and toys; 
in the greenish noon, the calm noise of a world without girls or boys

Don’t fray it away, it’s a new day;
in the rows, see the garden, it grows!
Don’t worry about the hand of gloom,
bare your thorns, for when might is doom.

Don’t waste your breath.




art: 'thorn bush'  by Geraldine Pomeroy at http://geraldinepomeroy.blogspot.com/2009/08/thorn-bush.html

Bare Thorns

01 - SA - Oliver Parice Weder - Oliver's Piano
02 - SA - Oliver Parice Weder - Pad - Glacier
03 - SA - Albion One - Strings - Tremolo
04 - SA - Albion One - The Visitor MW
05 - SA - OACE - Chamber Grid
06 - SA - HCT - Swells Grid

Oliver Patrice, Ólafur And Volker

Songster, Composer, & Sound Mangler

Warbling sea harbored melodies - rhythmic tintinnabulary cabalettas inside soft baked fairy tale threnodies - lilting moontouched theramins and/or psychic lithographs of balloons, barns, and braided banana leaves - sleeping during dogwatch in the crosstrees by the languid moans of threadbare weatherboards - gritty euphonic lo-fi transmissions from long dead moon farms - invocations from antique radios short circuiting in cool spring rain.

This is for the anchors which bind the sugar to the orange.
For summoning unseasonal titans to storm the calamity of drab hours, out of ether,
the cloud throned dumplings who give suck to fat breasted delight and unabashed waking -
the blimpy sprites who gratify each naked fig by imbibing their mistaken turns
into the cotton headed sighs of unloved mouse trap music. 



My work has been featured on various Netlabels, film experiments, and worldwide radio shows, including BBC6's "Introducing".

Bare Thorns

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