Inspired by this haiku written by Mark Miller, an award-winning poet and photographer who has published four books of poetry, the latest being Light and Counterlight (Ginninderra Press, 2020).
Sudden breeze
every strand of the spider’s web
in tune
Picture by Tamas Kolossa https://unsplash.com/@kolossaphoto
Thanks to Naviar Records:
https://soundcloud.com/naviar-records/sets/haiku-473-sudden-breeze-every
https://www.naviarrecords.com/2023/01/25/naviarhaiku473-sudden-breeze/

Weaving In A Sudden Breeze (naviarhaiku473)

I dont believe

Human Race Blues

Remixed and remastered 2023-08-31
Please also listen to https://soundcloud.com/personatracks/overfly-reprise

Overfly

Heard this one on the radio, and it caught on, so I ran with it.
Hope you'll enjoy

Walking The Wire (Imagine Dragons Cover)

Right This Way

Because sometimes you just want to dance your little heart out and leave the world behind!

On The Streets of Havana

method: mostly real instruments through pedals, mostly parallax, vo1 and vt4; only bass via vst --- contact microphones on plastic cheese wrappings do tally as real instruments, don't they?
narration: actually, beyond the surface drama, this is quite a funny poem ... don't tell!
image: based on 'lost place' images taken by myself, layered, copyright jo richter

poem / copyright jo richter:

gasping, we stood in the carpeted entrance hall
Dr Malström, the psychiatrist , and I
enchanted by an automaton's hapless ritual
of smiling while fuses shorted and lit up to fry
 
on the wall, there were vials holding noses and lips
peculiar animal shapes - this is the I about to die
a hoarse voice boomed from a lectern made of Freudian slips
as I beheld Malström rouguishly melt down and liquefy
 
giving in to the succulent pull of the corridor
the most vivid, amazing realizations rushed by
each one more compelling, more truthful, more
enthralling, more eagerly willing to make me comply
 
when I passed a sinkhole, a pipe, in dad's slippers
girls roping skippers, all skinny dippers, cast in a die
to be cast, least but not last, my flippers
aghast, beast beached on Mars, all oceans run dry
 
settled into a nutshell, crustacean, my mind
grew a finely elongated stalk to carry my eye
which did not blink for millenia, utterly blind
for seeing affirms what it yearned to deny
 
time to be back, some voice broke through
as alien as familiar, neither brazen nor shy
just factual, stating the obvious, giving no clue
of the workings behind it, but real enough to de-petrify

gasping we stood

Working all day 
Taking the bus at night
I don't want to come home
And start another fight, fight with you

So many misdeeds 
Flowing through my head
I'll take it as it comes
And make wish she's dead

Dead.
Dead.
Dead.

Working doubles, It just isn't right
I want to crawl on glass
Every time I hear the whines

Whines.
Whines.
From you.

I'll put a bullet right through her head
Won't lose any sleep as I lay in our bed

Scramble Brain

Reenergized Spirit

Beautiful Day

thankujesus

I am a sickly thing burning out for the entertainment of dozens.
Eons ago the gods locked me up in here as punishment for my divine transgressions. 
I've been live recording, digitally producing, & blending both mediums for a long time. 
Thank you for stopping by.
Be safe on your trip.

Right This Way

STUDIO TTL

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