Daily Drops

un grand merci à Lena https://soundcloud.com/user-262019520 pour ses cœurs qui ajoutent un peu de douceur, très bonne écoute, merci d'avance.
Steph

Paroles :
Un chemin sans détour
Nos rêves d’enfants de retour
Illumine chacun de nos pas 
Être alors ce que l’on croit
Libéré des illusions provisoires
De ces pensées dérisoires
Partir loin de ces chagrins
L’authenticité n’a pas de fin
Le bonheur caché au fond de nous 
Qu’il faut chercher avant tout
La simplicité si subtile
Un jour rejoindre enfin son ile
Alors Dieu nous parlera
Et il nous montrera la voie 
De l’amour, la sagesse et la vie
Nous le savons, cela n’a pas de prix

Refrain :
Alors décide toi ma belle
Je t’attendrai au bas de l’échelle
Mais ne me laisse pas là
Sinon je vais mourir de « foi »
J’ai préparé tous les bagages
Je te promets d’être plus sage
Encore une fois tu as le choix
Sois ferme et prend bien soin de toi


Spontanément sans détour
Oublier ce vieux compte à rebours
Rechercher à l’intérieur de soi
Percevoir, changer ce qui ne va pas 
Couper les liens qui nous efface 
Dans ce labyrinthe trouver sa place
De la joie à l’intérieur de notre chaire
Capable de percer les mystères 
En nous subsiste une oasis
Qui réanime sans artifice
Accepter de partir en exil
Sans limitation inutile
Une étincelle au fond des yeux
Viendra rallumer le feu
Motivation divine
Cette énergie nous illumine

Alors ou en es-tu ma belle
Je t’attends là, au bas de l’échelle
Ne me laisse pas comme ça
Sinon je vais mourir de « foi »
J’ai préparé tous les bagages
Je te promets d’être plus sage
Encore une fois tu as le choix
Sois ferme et prend bien soin de toi




Une petite place pour l’imaginaire
Un peu d’espace, un bol d’air
Retrouver nos moments disparus
A l’intérieur, le paradis perdu
Fuir les critiques systématiques
Redevenir pacifique
Plonger dans de belles pensées
Dès l’aube se laisser transporter
Les yeux tournés vers l’infini
Au son de douces mélodies
Ecouter son instinct
L’authenticité nous fait du bien
Accepter tout ce qui nous dépasse
Gagner en force et faire face
Ne plus jamais faire le sourd
A tout l’amour qui nous entoure

Alors décide toi ma belle
J’attends encore au bas de l’échelle
Mais ne me laisse pas là
Sinon je vais mourir de « foi »
J’ai préparé tous les bagages
Je te promets d’être plus sage
Encore une fois tu as le choix
Sois ferme et prend bien soin de toi

Authentique

The forest breathes in whispers,
its voice carried on the night wind.
Beneath the silver glow of the moon,
the trees stretch their shadows,
dancing softly on the earth.

A stream murmurs in the distance,
its waters flowing endlessly,
carving a story older than time,
a tale of life that flows and fades.

The leaves quiver,
caught between stillness and motion,
their fragile forms trembling in the moonlight.
Each drop of dew holds the universe,
a fleeting mirror of infinite beauty.

Beneath this canopy of stars and leaves,
a solitary figure walks,
their footsteps swallowed by the soil,
their breath merging with the cool, damp air.

The forest listens,
its silence alive with a timeless rhythm,
bearing witness to the brief spark of life,
a moment suspended in the vast embrace of eternity.

And as the moon climbs higher,
its light weaves through the branches,
illuminating the truth whispered by the trees:
beauty is fleeting,
but its echoes remain,
woven into the eternal fabric of the forest.

The figure pauses,
their gaze lifted to the sky.
In this moment, they are not apart,
but one with the forest,
their presence a flicker in its endless tale.

The forest on a moonlit night (Piano with Japanese poetry reading)日本語詩の朗読

B-Paralyzed

One of the more enriching aspects of a collab' project like this, is the exchange of ideas, drivers and perceptions about the topic at hand;  please note that those which follow are mine alone.

Find Seagull's brilliant music here: https://soundcloud.com/farout-music-studio
Find David's beautiful guitar work here: https://soundcloud.com/david-dunhamuser589535203
___________________________________________________________________________

And so it rains… here, in the pile of moral and cultural rubble roughly where a place called England used to be.  Rain that is not acid, but acrid, coming, as it does, from the persistent shower of vile spittle emanating from the crooked mouths of the horde of liars, cheats, frauds and fornicators at Westminster.  Their policies as illegitimate as their credentials (and certain other aspects of their lives), these creatures shuffle about at the feet of their gay muslim billionaire benefactor / puppetmaster, shamelessly lapping up his tossed treats and trinkets in return for unfettered access to the heart of an executive whose mission is as fraudulent as its mandate: the eradication of the indigenous population, its culture and its history.  Their tools of the trade familiar to any rapacious despot of a failed state: fabricated manifestos; indoctrination to brainwash; history rewritten; injunctions to stem free speech; cancelled elections;  suppression of mainstream media through litigative threat;  transformation of the national broadcaster to the faithful puppy propaganda mouthpiece of the party machine; and hands-on directive control of judiciary and police functions to impose a vindictive and vicious two tier justice system within which peaceful protestors are handed brutal custodial sentences leading to a (no doubt welcome) uptick in prison suicides, as others, of a different ethnic background, violently assault a female police officer or stand on podiums with megaphones, exhorting the crowds before them to slash throats, and then walk free with police protection whilst the precious human rights of convicted terrorists are nurtured even as the mouths of their victims’ loved ones are sealed with gagging orders.  Oh, and should you wish, in this crumbling Year Zero aspirational autocracy, to publicly reject the learned principles underpinning any particular religious faith, then the aforementioned politically directed police will happily offer you a light for any holy text you wish to burn in order to make your point.  With one exception.  And it isn’t the bible....

And so it rains….
___________________________________________________________________________
Photo by Norbert Tóth on Unsplash

Rain ... with Seagull and David Dunham

The Hunchback of Notre Dame – The Young Nobles
February 2025
Duration: 2:10
Listen to more music for the ballet: soundcloud.com/bruce-klepper-1/sets/the-hunchback-for-notre-dame
Based on La Réjouissance from Music for the Royal Fireworks by Handel 
Music for Danse Etoile Ballet (www.danseetoile.org) who will be performing The Hunchback of Notre Dame June 6th and 7th 2025 in Colorado.
For strings, trumpet, clarinet, bassoon, contra bassoon, piano, timpani and percussion

The Hunchback of Notre Dame - The Young Nobles

Crimson Keys: A Musical Plea for Peace

On the third anniversary of the conflict in Ukraine, we are honored to present Crimson Keys, a composition that embodies a profound yearning for peace and hope. This instrumental piece, performed by pianist Francesco Adornetto and featuring the evocative vocals of Dawn Walters, serves as a silent protest against all wars. Through its intense and melancholic melodies, it invites listeners to pause, reflect, and unite for a better future.

In a world still marred by conflict in 2025, Crimson Keys emerges as a poignant expression of resilience and solidarity. The piano's crimson-hued notes intertwine seamlessly with ethereal vocal lines, creating a soundscape suspended between dream and reality, beauty and tragedy.

We invite you to listen to Crimson Keys and join us in spreading its message of peace and unity.

Credits:

Piano: Francesco Adornetto
Vocals: Dawn Walters

Crimson Keys

Crimson Keys (vocals by Dawn Walters)

Composition and Sampling collage by Synline.

Let's Talk About Love

The Sun Awakes

Busy In the Box

A Little piece I am now working on. Hope you Enjoy. Please feel free to leave a comment as its much appreciated.

Updated with some more instruments and the mix.

Resolute ( Very Early Demo )

SUN IS LOW
-------------
Wind cries lonely 
across the snow
Sky is frozen,
sun is low
Ice cold dust dry as sand,
whip the ground upon this land

Never day, never night
All that I see... turn to white

Freezing,
time move slow,
back to fence.
I'll go where the white doves go

Winter,
please hide my way.
Cross the plain,
the hills and far away


Wolves that gathered,
have watched each move
Teeth are showing,
tails held low.
Hungry eyes with patience view,
In this domain their reign is true

Infinite march, likely in vain
Tracks cross the plain... turns to a chain

Freezing,
time move slow,
back to fence.
I'll go where the white doves go
where they go
in the night
they take flight
soaring to sky
so high and free
just like me
Always heading for their home
just like me

Sun is low

Another little sketch - two Spitfire Labs improvisations + Duduk (vst) blown with breath controller; each played in one go ....

On Thin Wire / ambient sketch

Eternity

Fistful Thinking Demo

I wanna rock

Thank you Jonathan (https://soundcloud.com/jonathan_beckenstein) for your beautiful guitar playing.

Jonathan: solo and wha-wha guitar (custom Telecaster)
Joppe: opening guitars (Ibanez JS1), virtual instruments

Cruising with Jonathan

Heavy Punk Rock 'n' Roll band turns into Synthwave nowadays! Brand NEW album "Ultraviolet Cosmos" available NOW!

🐳Thank you for your support. It's very encouraging.🪼
🐱I do not use AI in my music.😊
🌺Have fun! Bandcamp!💞Thank you for your purchase!💞

B-Paralyzed

Sanshu Seiso [Experimental Artist]

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