Still Seing Ghosts

Talking Legs & Feetz

It covers a lot of ground, marks my words.

A Lot Of Ground

Morning fog, the sun is already fighting its way through, a new day begins! 
The original photo was taken in october 2022 of the Warsaw Bridge in Berlin by Germaine.

Morning Fog

🖤Buy

One of a few new tunes I have been working on.
Stay safe out there and thank you for all of your kind plays shares and reposts.

IMAGINE  (Urban Mix)

Instrumental and mix by Garddwr Porffor https://soundcloud.com/garddwrporffor
Vocals by Nadia Selvaggi

If Wishes Were Fishes by Garddwr Porffor & Nadia Selvaggi

Released: 12/01/22
Purple Microdot The Allure Pt. 2

Anyone willing to do a remix, the vocals is in the link below:
https://soundcloud.com/ipg1/purple-microdot-the-allure-pt-2-vocals-135-bpm

Written from the purple microdots (acid) point of view, as
the human becomes the drug, the drug becomes the human. Some of the lyrics are different. Enjoy!!!

This that acid drop—- mind corrupt
Drop that purple microdot
Fear not ——if the time stops——
and the clock refuse to TikTok 
Full throttle—speeding-roadblock
brain cell just don’t give a fuck 
Tie dye—-sandals ——dreadlocks 
Woodstock —type ——Hip-Hop
mesmerized by the kilowatt 
my brain ——become a hotspot 
Am I  human——Am I God——
preparing for ——-the aftershock 
the aftershock——-the aftershock 
Hell yeah———— and why not ——it’s still that purple 
microdot—-microdot—— microdot

Chorus
Think twice before you say no
Charisma —-come on let’s go
The moves —-without Ego
The smile —-or the combo
It’s good times —-and Convo
Cant avoid it—-so you want some more
The allure —-of an outlaw (X3)

Guitar riffs and jazz lines ——like rainbows and sunshine
No limits no guidelines——I’ll start off with a peace sign
don’t even try to undermine——Or I’ll peal back your hairline —
Love it when the stars align——You know I’mer get mine
time stop ———-brain cells begin to pop 
From the bottom to the top ——a mental——hotspot 
Mesmerizing sound —-kicking kilowatts 
From that purple microdot 

God status—-here we go at last—-
from the bottom to the top —break that hour glass——
So why you think your teeth are shattering ———so damn fast
It a personal experience—-a one man class
No sleep for those who know ———-the afterglow 
Are Y’all ready for the show—Y’all ready for the show…..
no malice establish—-and it’s hitting on the spot
A God’s made —-for love—-that—— purple microdot
This that aftershock—-that aftershock—that aftershock
From that acid drop ———Mind corrupt —Mind corrupt
time stop ———-brain cell begin to pop 
From the bottom to the top ——a mental——hotspot 
Mesmerizing sound —-kicking kilowatts
From that purple microdot —-From that purple microdot

——Chorus ——

Feeding off the sound like a starving vampire 
music in my blood turns a spark into fire
The progeny of lyrics—-rhythm tunes—-desire
Made to Pierce your soul ——like a suit of Bob-wire
Hang tight and ride this storm of ——forget me Nut
Left-brain—right track—it’s called —-purple microdot
And you know I’ll be here—— from —-time to time
Fucking with your mind ————at the drop of a dime
Underground—-under the tongue—-paint a mental picture
yo—you’ll never really know when the acids gonna hit ya

Purple Microdot The Allure Pt. 2

Mankind's Repeated Sins

Georg Trakl (1887-1914) was an Austrian Expressionist poet with strong Symbolist influences. 
The following poem "Der Spaziergang" ( "The Walk") was written in 1913.

A big Thank You to The Neighbor for playing this wonderful solo-guitar.

The picture shows a detail of „Astronaut“, ink on paper, 2020 by Gregor Kalus



See translation (mainly by machine) below


Der Spaziergang

1
Musik summt im Gehölz am Nachmittag. 
Im Korn sich ernste Vogelscheuchen drehn. 
Holunderbüsche sacht am Weg verwehn; 
Ein Haus zerflimmert wunderlich und vag.

In Goldnem schwebt ein Duft von Thymian,
 Auf einem Stein steht eine heitere Zahl. 
Auf einer Wiese spielen Kinder Ball, 
Dann hebt ein Baum vor dir zu kreisen an.

Du träumst: Die Schwester kämmt ihr blondes Haar, 
Auch schreibt ein ferner Freund dir einen Brief.
 Ein Schober fliegt durchs Grau vergilbt und schief 
Und manchmal schwebst du leicht und wunderbar.

2
Die Zeit verrinnt. O süßer Helios! 
O Bild im Krötentümpel süß und klar;
 Im Sand versinkt ein Eden wunderbar.
 Goldammern wiegt ein Busch in seinem Schoß.

Ein Bruder stirbt dir in verwunschnem Land 
Und stählern schaun dich seine Augen an.
 In Goldnem dort ein Duft von Thymian. 
Ein Knabe legt am Weiler einen Brand.

Die Liebenden in Faltern neu erglühn 
Und schaukeln heiter hin um Stein und Zahl. 
Aufflattern Krähen um ein ekles Mahl
 Und deine Stirne tost durchs sanfte Grün.

Im Dornenstrauch verendet weich ein Wild. 
Nachgleitet dir ein heller Kindertag, 
Der graue Wind, der flatterhaft und vag 
Verfallne Düfte durch die Dämmerung spült.

3
Ein altes Wiegenlied macht dich sehr bang. 
Am Wegrand fromm ein Weib ihr Kindlein stillt. 
Traumwandelnd hörst Du wie ihr Bronnen quillt. 
Aus Apfelzweigen fällt ein Weiheklang.

Und Brot und Wein sind süß von harten Mühn. 
Nach Früchten tastet silbern deine Hand. 
Die tote Rahel geht durchs Ackerland. 
Mit friedlicher Geberde winkt das Grün.

Gesegnet auch blüht armer Mägde Schoß, 
Die träumend dort am alten Brunnen stehn. 
Einsame froh auf stillen Pfaden gehn
 Mit Gottes Kreaturen sündelos.

_________________________________________




The Walk

1
Music hums in the grove in the afternoon. 
Serious scarecrows turn in the corn. 
Elder bushes gently drift along the path; 
A house flickers whimsically and vaguely.

In gold floats a scent of thyme, 
On a stone stands a cheerful number.
 In a meadow children play ball, 
Then a tree in front of you begins to circle.

You are dreaming: Your sister combs her blonde hair, 
Also a distant friend writes you a letter. 
A rick flies through the grey yellowed and crooked 
And sometimes you float gently and wonderfully.

2
Time slips away. O sweet Helios! 
O image in the toad-pool sweet and clear; 
In the sand an Eden sinks wonderful.
 A bush cradles yellowhammers in its lap.

A brother dies to thee in a haunted land 
And steely his eyes gaze at you. 
In gold there a fragrance of thyme.
 A boy sets fire to the hamlet.

The lovers glow anew in butterflies 
And sway cheerfully around stone and number. 
Crows flutter up around a disgusting meal 
And your forehead thunders through the mellow green.

In the thorny bush a deer dies a soft death. 
After you glides a bright child's day, 
The grey wind that flutters and vaguely washes 
Decaying scents through the twilight.

3
An old lullaby makes you very anxious. 
By the wayside a woman piously nurses her child. 
Dreamwalking you hear how her fountains gush. 
From apple branches falls a sober consecration sound.

And bread and wine are sweet from hard toil. 
Your silver hand gropes for fruit.
 The dead Rachel walks through the farmland. 
The green beckons with a peaceful gesture.

Blessed also blossoms the bosom of poor maidens, 
Who stand there dreaming by the old well. 
Lonely ones gladly walk the silent paths
Amongst God's creatures without sin.

Der Spaziergang (Trakl, 1913) ft The Neighbor

The wonderful Special Cecilia's unique voice added to my original open collab.
https://soundcloud.com/specialvocals/waiting-for-your-sunshine-standing-in-the-moonlight

Opencollabradabra

pic https://pxhere.com/en/photo/1375257

Waiting For Your Sunshine - Special Cecilia with Nicholas Ridiculous

One of a collection of Albums I made with my daughter when we thought we would be taking on the world of 'Trans Pop Chill Out Uber Mix'.  

Book of Colours

Midnight Love

After updating my new time travel profile pic, I figured it was also time to refresh the bio. The amount of world-class talent on the Cloud never ceases to amaze me. I don’t say that lightly – I’ve learned so much from so many of you. There are artists here I genuinely consider among the best musical talents I’ve heard anywhere. And I have heard a ton of music.
I’m a lifelong music addict. For me, music can be transformative, cathartic, joyful, and intellectual – often all at once. My taste? Almost anything done well. Almost. My own music is eclectic: from acoustic guitar pieces to jazz fusion, to prog/alternative/psychedelic rock, to electronica.
What really keeps me here, though, is the community – the interaction, and the sense of connection that somehow forms even when we never meet in person. The goodwill and respect are something special, and I don’t take that for granted.
Finally, regarding recording – if you’re still reading! – my humble studio hasn’t changed in 15 years. I’m even still running Windows 7 to support my old Steinberg DAW. No AI tools – just me, I like to control the physical process at every step, from idea, to playing, editing, mixing, and final production.

A Lot Of Ground

Steve Matthews