CHESS FLIP

In this , one heartfelt plea from one heartbroken apostle. Thank you for listening, and for sharing this message!!! Please remember that depending upon your web browser and connection speed, it may take up to 60 seconds for this podcast to begin to play. God bless you richly as you listen.

Ephesians in HD (Part 39) -- Stuff!

Miss Lorette in her linen blouse
Wanders 'round the classroom like a trapped grey mouse
With a stack of printouts, the holy writ
Of Chagall in blue, and that flying goat bit
She paints with her sighs, critiques with a snarl
Says, “Why can’t you kids just draw like Chagall?”
Your tree looks wrong, your sky’s too dull
Your dog doesn’t float, your face isn’t full

She’s got a shrine of cutouts and clippings
In the storage closet behind the trimmings
If your work’s not dreamy, not vaguely surreal
She’ll frown and mutter, “Do you even feel?”

Everything was Chagall, nothing more, nothing less
From the brush to the theme to the painter’s address
She’d say, “Emotion, kids! Just smear some blue!”
But your tears weren’t enough — she wanted sky-cows too
Every hour, every day, every project, every wall
Had to scream the same name — it was Chagall, Chagall!
Miss Lorette and her canvas cage
Trapped in her eternal floating village stage

We painted goats with violin hands
And brides in the sky over pastel lands
She never smiled at landscapes or cubes
But once she kissed a kid’s drawing — it was a Chagall ruse
She said, “Yes! You finally get it, my dove!”
But the kid had just traced it from the book she shoved

She'd say, “Marc was a prophet, a sage in paint!”
If you liked Van Gogh, she'd scream, “Have some restraint!”
Your inner world? Not her concern
She just wanted more Chagall to burn

Everything was Chagall, like a looping spell
In the kingdom of crushed dreams, she reigned too well
“Abstract is trash, and Cubism’s dead!”
She whispered that while stabbing a Picasso head
Every line, every shade, every desperate call
Echoed back with her moan: “Not Chagall at all…”
Oh, Miss Lorette and her pigment chains
Tied to a ghost in a world of stains

But then one day — oh God, that brave young soul...
Little Jamie stood up from his plastic throne
And said, “We’ve had enough of your Chagall regime!”
The room went cold — like a haunted dream
Her smile cracked, the wind began to cry
She turned around with fire in her eye

“You ungrateful brat,” she softly hissed
“You dare defy Marc’s sacred mist?”
The windows shattered, the lights went black
Jamie wept in chalk dust, praying to take it back

Everything was Chagall — and it always would be
You could beg, you could plead, but you’d never be free
From the swirling cows and the pale green brides
In Miss Lorette’s mind, that's where the truth hides
Every tear-stained drawing, every thunderstruck call
Was sucked into her vortex: Chagall, Chagall!
We learned about art, but not from the start —
We just memorized one tragic, floating heart

The Marc Chagall Song

He says, “I’m tolerant, I read, I care”
Then scoffs at meat and glares at prayer
Corrects your terms, your tone, your pace
With a trembling hand and a pained face
He tweets in bed, he flinches loud
If someone thinks against the crowd
At work, at home, in every store
You say one word — he clears the floor

📢 Talks like Gandhi, lives like grey
Ethics change from day to day
He claims he listens, then shuts you down
In café corners all over town

Clear throat — AHEM!
That’s how he strikes
Corrects your speech, your jokes, your likes
Clear throat — AHEM!
He’s always “right”
But never lifts, avoids the fight
He met his match — they thought alike
Both thin in arms and thick in mic
Clear throat — AHEM!
Love on repeat
Till she met strong values down the street

The neighbour moved in — sun on his skin
Blue eyes bold, and heavy within
With church on Sunday, hands like stone
And principles carved into bone
She baked a pie. Just being nice.
He helped her carry vegan rice.
Then talked of faith, of strength, of grace
And something flickered in her face…

He watched her smile like never before
Watched her not correct the score
She said, “He listens, but he’s not afraid”
And our woke guy just… cleared and stayed

Clear throat — AHEM!
He paced, he cried
Said “This is sexist!” but she sighed
Clear throat — AHEM!
Still no reply
Just hymns next door and lifted sky
The blonde one laughed, the girl had peace
He choked on terms like “toxic” and “please”
Clear throat — AHEM!
Now all alone
With cancelled plans and a compost phone

“She betrayed the cause,” he said to himself
As he watered the fern… and blocked twelve more people on social media.

Clear throat — AHEM!
The world moved on
Muscles win when morals are gone
Clear throat — AHEM!
He still performs
But no one claps for weathered norms
She found a man who holds the door
He fact-checks memes and lives alone
Clear throat — AHEM!
Like it’s enough…
But deep inside, he knows it’s rough

Ahem.
She never even looked back.

Clear Throat (Ahem)

A Brazilian Lover is a sunny and cheerful bossa nova track full of warmth and charm. Featuring smooth saxophone and expressive piano solos over a classic Brazilian rhythm section, it evokes carefree afternoons, romantic strolls by the beach, and the colorful spirit of Rio. Perfect for travel content, summer advertising, lifestyle videos, and anything that needs a touch of Latin elegance and joy.

Bandcamp:
https://marccorominas.bandcamp.com/track/a-brazilian-lover

AudioJungle:
https://audiojungle.net/item/a-brazilian-lover/35525640?s_rank=1

100Audio:
https://100audio.com/en/download/2831917/

Audiocrowd:
https://en.audiocrowd.net/tracks/4634-a-brazilian-lover

MotionArray:
https://motionarray.com/royalty-free-music/a-brazilian-lover-1095939/

Jamendo Licensing:
https://licensing.jamendo.com/es/tracks/Mcxn6CGP7vF/a-brazilian-lover

Safe Creative (copyright registration):
https://www.safecreative.org/work/2201070202266-a-brazilian-lover?11

#bossa #brazilian #latin #saxophone #piano #sunny #romantic #cheerful #summer #travel #lounge #jazz #brazil #acoustic #smooth #beach #afternoon #love #warm #rhythmic

A Brazilian Lover

“Waltz of the Smart Birds” is a charming and whimsical solo piano piece that paints a delightful picture of little birds playfully dancing through nature. With a light classical touch and waltz rhythm, the music moves gently and gracefully—conveying joy, curiosity, and a peaceful sense of wonder. It’s ideal for nature-themed content, animation, children’s stories, or any visual moment requiring a poetic, carefree, and uplifting atmosphere.

Bandcamp:
https://marccorominas.bandcamp.com/track/classical-piano-waltz-of-birds
(A graceful and delicate piano waltz full of life and imagination.)

AudioCrowd:
https://en.audiocrowd.net/tracks/5187-classical-piano-waltz-of-birds
(Cheerful and light classical waltz inspired by birds dancing in nature.)

MotionArray:
https://motionarray.com/royalty-free-music/waltz-of-the-smart-birds-624077/
(Playful, elegant, and emotionally light—perfect for storytelling.)

AudioJungle:
https://audiojungle.net/item/classical-piano-waltz-of-birds/21941657?s_rank=2
(Gentle piano waltz, ideal for animated or natural scenes.)

Jamendo Licensing:
https://licensing.jamendo.com/es/tracks/ZH75zcHxhpB/classical-piano-waltz-of-birds
(Witty, calm, and poetic—a waltz for tender, creative moments.)

Safe Creative (copyright registration):
https://www.safecreative.org/work/1805087028263-classical-piano-waltz-of-birds?8

Official Website:
https://musiclfiles.wixsite.com/musiclibraryfiles

All music is original and copyright protected.

Classical Piano Waltz of Birds

7AM and the beats begin,
Leggings tighter than mortal sin.
Treadmills hum and dumbbells clank,
My pulse goes wild — she turns and plank.

Her form's divine, sculpted with grace,
The gym's a church, she's saving face.
But I pretend to check my phone...
(I'm watching her from the dead zone.)

Mirror tricks and sideways eyes,
We men, we live in compromise.
One wrong glance, you're crucified,
So we lift in shame and pride...

🔥 Perfect shape – but look away! 🔥
The rules are strict, no time to play.
Don’t admire, don’t betray,
Your decency must save the day!

🔥 Perfect shape – but look away! 🔥
Just count your reps, don't go astray.
No ogling here, that’s cliché —
Respect her glutes and walk away!

She's doing squats, a holy rite,
Her motion framed by heavenly light.
And I — I curl in quiet pain,
My dumbbell soaked in shameful rain.

The trainer yells, "Engage your core!"
But my thoughts are morally sore.
She's chiseled like a Roman bust,
And I’m collapsing under lust.

We nod, we sweat, we stare at walls,
Pretend we didn’t see it all.
We are good boys, gym-code tight,
Suppressing every primal bite...

🔥 Perfect shape – but look away! 🔥
Don’t stare too long, don’t make it stay.
This isn’t love, it's just ballet —
With protein shakes and low-speed prey.

🔥 Perfect shape – but look away! 🔥
She’s not your dream, she’s just at play.
Don’t lose your soul, don’t disobey —
Or HR calls you in today.

[Bridge – Spoken, in deep Italian accent]
"È la perfezione... ma non si tocca.
Solo guardi… ma neanche troppo."

🔥 Perfect shape – but look away! 🔥
The gym's a trap, where hearts decay.
No love in reps, no flirt in sway —
Just iron, sweat, and bills to pay!

🔥 Perfect shape – but look away! 🔥
She lifts your hopes, then walks away.
Be strong, be cool, don’t misbehave —
Or die alone with your protein whey…

Perfect Shape – But Look Away!

I lay in the glass, cold and ashamed,
Among friends who looked just the same.
Pork fat beneath me, a fried coat of pride,
A tomato slice clinging to dignity’s side.
Salad leaf limp, but I still had my grace,
Onion rings weeping in mayonnaise.
Gouda on top, like a crown I once earned,
But nobody looked. Nobody turned.

The hall was a tomb, the light pale and mean,
Neon buzzing above like a bad vending dream.
Trains came and went, with sighs and with smoke,
But no one reached in for this sad little joke.

🎶 I’m just a sandwich — forgotten and chilled,
On a shelf of regrets, half-wrapped and unfilled.
I dreamed of adventure, of lunch with a view,
But I waited… I wilted…
‘till finally — you. 🎶

He came with a coat from a decade before,
A pensioner's smirk, and one tooth — maybe four.
His hat was absurd, his face oddly shaped,
But he pointed at me like fate had escaped.
I was scooped with a shrug, slid into a bag,
No fanfare, no music, no patriotic flag.
Paper too thin, hands a little too rough,
But I was leaving the shelf. And that was enough.

He took me outside, on a bench made of steel,
Unwrapped me like treasure, began his meal.
And when he bit down, I saw through the fuss —
He may have looked strange…
…but he was kinder than us.

🎶 I’m just a sandwich — no legacy left,
No sauces remembered, no toppings kept.
Bite after bite, I crumbled, gave in…
To a man with a hat…
…and a tremble in his chin. 🎶
🎶 Now I’m gone —
No one cried, no one knew.
But for one quiet lunch,
I meant something to you. 🎶

The shelf is still full.
The glass still fogs.
But I…
I’m free.

Bite After Bite

Back in class at fourteen years,
With burned potatoes and melted shears.
I chopped my thumb, I fried a spoon,
My pasta turned to mush by noon.
The teacher sighed, pulled out her hair,
My cake was smoking. I didn’t care.
She pointed her spatula like a sword of fate,
And said, “You’ll starve, boy — it’s already too late.”

🎶 But I didn’t starve! Oh no, I thrived!
On nuggets and noodles and meals vacuum-sealed tight!
I lived on lasagnas that came in a tray,
With instructions in bold: “Pierce film, microwave!”
I proved her wrong! I gained some mass!
Okay, I wheeze now when I climb a stair pass…
🎶 But hey — I didn’t starve!
(Just slowly died inside.) 🎶
And that’s survival, baby.

Thirty years, I’m full of pride,
And sodium levels I can’t hide.
I smile now when I see the shelf,
Of pre-cooked food I never cooked myself.
I’ve got a freezer full of plastic plates,
With names like “Country Beef” and “Dinner Greats.”
And while my doctor cries and sighs,
I just nod and say, “It’s portion-sized!”

She said: “You’ll never survive out there.”
But guess what, Frau Gruber?
They made pizza that fits in a toaster.
And yes, I now take medication for things I can’t pronounce.
But it’s called modern living.

🎶 I didn’t starve! I outlived the class!
Except Markus… but he ate quinoa, so pass.
I heat my dinner in just three minutes flat,
Even desserts come frozen and shaped like a cat!
So yes — I’m round, I’m slow, my knees cry at night,
But I proved her wrong with every salty bite.
🎶 I didn’t starve — I just…
defrosted my dreams. 🎶
(Slightly bloated, but emotionally full.)

So here’s to the meals that never required skill,
To the sauces that came in a sachet, still.
She said I’d starve.
I laughed.
And ate.
Now I’m full…
...of regret.

I Didn’t Starve

Nigel from Portsmouth, he lives by the shore
In a semi-detached with a damp cellar floor
Where DVDs gather, from Shilton to Buffon
He talks in his sleep about catching the long one

His wife Angela says he once saved a pen on the beach
When he dove into dog poo, just slightly off reach
He’s got gloves in the closet, he calls them "his lads"
And a cardboard cut-out of Lev Yashin’s pads

🎶 Nigel – Nigel Nigel Nigel Nigel
Whispers stats like a haunted recital
🎶 Nigel – Nigel Nigel Nigel Nigel
He could’ve coached keepers to glorious titles
But he just watches replays, rewinds the denial
Nigel... still stuck in the spiral

He’s mapped every weakness Joe Hart ever showed
Has diagrams proving why Reina imploded
He breaks down the moment when Banks made that save
Then cries into tea when he thinks of the brave

He scoffs at De Gea with audible pain
"Positioning! Lateral movement!" again
His sofa is worn in the shape of a dive
A man built for greatness who never arrived

🎶 Nigel – Nigel Nigel Nigel Nigel
Talks reflexes like holy revival
🎶 Nigel – Nigel Nigel Nigel Nigel
Mentally marking each goal’s downward spiral
Still waiting for England to ring his arrival
Nigel… a lonely archival

He could've been training the stars of today
But he's shouting at MOTD’s Match of the Day
He whispers “zone marking” to his microwave
And salutes Schmeichel when he shaves

🎶 Nigel – Nigel Nigel Nigel Nigel
Living his dream in a Premier League vial
🎶 Nigel – Nigel Nigel Nigel Nigel
Scrolling through gloves on an eBay trial
Still coaching no one, still dreaming in style
Nigel... oh Nigel...
You beautiful...
denial.

Nigel

I walked into the diner with a dream on my plate,
Crispy, golden visions — I was feelin’ first-rate.
But then she came close, said “Try this today,”
Slapped a white swamp down and took my soul away.

I like ‘em fried, I like ‘em baked,
I even boil ‘em for old time's sake.
But something smooth and sad appeared...
A mushy horror that I feared.

NO! NO! NO WAY!
Mashed potatoes are not okay!
NO! NO! NO WAY!
That creamy doom? Just keep away!
NO! NO! NO WAY!
It’s a texture crime, a starch cliché!
NO! NO! NO WAY!
Mashed potatoes? Hell. No. Stay!

I begged for crunch, I begged for bite,
But all I got was this pale fright.
Like baby food from broken dreams,
It haunts my toast, my poutine screams.

Once I loved a girl… she mashed 'em in a bowl…
I ran. I cried. I lost control.
She said, "It’s comfort food."
I said, "That’s not food. That’s glue, dude."

NO! NO! NO WAY!
Mashed potatoes are not okay!
NO! NO! NO WAY!
Put that slop-trap far away!
NO! NO! NO WAY!
I’d rather eat my bills and pay!
NO! NO! NO WAY!
Mash your dreams, but not today!

Mashed… no-tay-toes…
Kill the vibe… close the show…
NO…
NO…
NO WAY.

Mashed NO-tatoes

I came for culture... I stayed for the spritzers...
Döbling... the hills... the wine... and my shame...

I took a tram with no direction,
Got off too soon, pure imperfection.
Google said Heuriger's this way,
I followed signs, got led astray.

White plastic chairs and fading charm,
The waiter winked—he meant me harm.
A Styrian sang, his zither cried,
I drank two litres, then I died.

Crushed like grapes beneath the boots,
Love and logic bearing no fruits.
A stranger's dog licked my despair—
But I was too drunk to care.

Hey! Hey! Hey! Let’s get drunk and drift away—
Busline 38A, okay?
Hey! Hey! Hey! Say “Prost” and lose your way—
New wine tears in the Welschriesling spray!

I tried to flirt in broken German,
Said “Ich bin traurig... und auch gern am weinen.”
She laughed, said “Are you always like this?”
I said, “Just in autumn. And when I miss...”

I miss the taste of sins uncorked,
A heart fermented, overforked.
Your lips were red from Zweigelt wine—
I drank you too, then crossed the line.

Oh Döbling nights, so sweet, so cruel...
A drunk philosopher, a romantic fool...
I danced with ghosts in knitted socks,
Then vomited behind the vineyard rocks.

Hey! Hey! Hey! Let’s get drunk and drift away—
Busline 38A, okay?
Hey! Hey! Hey! Fall in love and disobey—
Heuriger dreams turn to disarray!

Where is my scarf?
Who paid the bill?
Did I kiss a local?
Did time stand still?

Hey! Hey! Hey! Let’s get drunk and drift away—
Busline 38A, okay?
Hey! Hey! Hey! Till the wine says what you can’t say—
New wine in Vienna... fade to grey.

New Wine in Vienna


“Mama Parade” is a joyful tribute to all mothers — a celebration full of rhythm, gratitude, and love. Derlux Amons invites the world to honor the queens of our lives with music that dances straight from the soul.


Mama’s Parade.

Velvet Petals spread pure joy with "Sunshine Day"! This indie pop track with hints of sunshine pop instantly brings a smile to your face with catchy melodies, clean guitars, and carefree vocals. A real feelgood song that invites you to go out, play, and enjoy the perfect sunny day. #IndiePop #SunshinePop #Feelgood #VelvetPetals #SunshineDay #GoodVibes #Summer #Optimistic

Sunshine Day

This beat is good for an R&B artist to sing on. This beat is for sale leave a comment and I will contact you. Thanks for your support. 

Love Ever Lasting

U Got My Attention

Small table, folding chair,
A paper cup between my hands,
Golden light spills through the air,
Paints the rooftops, warms the land.
Moments drift like whispered dreams,
Past and future start to blur,
I sip the spring, I breathe it in,
Tonight, there's only here.

Don't chase the days, don't mourn what's flown,
This sunset's mine, this heart's my own.

Evening Coffee at Gedimino Prospektas fifty two,
Laughing with the breeze, with the golden sky in view,
Spinning in the moment, nothing else I'd rather do,
Evening Coffee at Gedimino Prospektas fifty two.

Springtime songs in dusky light,
Old façades in artful glow,
I raise my cup, I close my eyes,
The city hums a soft hello.
I won't mourn the roads ahead,
Or ache for where I've been—
The magic's here, the magic's now,
In every breath and grin.

Don't chase the days, don't mourn what's flown,
This sunset's mine, this heart's my own.

Evening Coffee at Gedimino Prospektas fifty two,
Laughing with the breeze, with the golden sky in view,
Spinning in the moment, nothing else I'd rather do,
Evening Coffee at Gedimino Prospektas fifty two.

Sun’s setting slow,
Paper cup glow,
Warmth on my skin,
I’m living within...

Evening Coffee at Gedimino Prospektas fifty two,
Laughing with the breeze, with the golden sky in view,
Spinning in the moment, nothing else I'd rather do,
Evening Coffee at Gedimino Prospektas fifty two.

 Empty paper cup, now scene and song will stop.
Viso gero, Gedimino prospekte,
Viso gero, Vilniau mano,
Viso gero, Lietuva brangioji.
Aš tavęs daugiau niekada nepamatysiu.

Evening Coffee at Gedimino Prospektas 52

Early noon, first touch of spring,
In February's tender swing,
Miles behind me, dreams ahead,
A little village, sunlight spread.
A park bench waits, the world on pause,
Mild air whispers without a cause,
Salami snack and closed-up eyes,
A heart wide open to the skies.

Time's a river, soft and slow,
Moments bloom where wild winds blow,
And something in the stillness said:
"Wait here, feel alive instead."

🎶 Are you ready? Are you steady?
Bus ride to heaven on cloud 7.
Golden minutes, borrowed skies,
One sweet soul and sunlight eyes.
Are you ready? Are you steady?
Bus ride to heaven on cloud 7.
Talked of life, of dreams, of skies,
A dance of souls in warm goodbyes. 🎶

Two hours drift like melodies,
Then you appeared — a mystery breeze,
Sat down near, and words took flight,
Two strangers glowing in the light.
Laughing low, eyes full of stars,
Riding roads to where dreams are,
Half an hour, forever spun,
In village winds and February sun.

Time’s a river, soft and slow,
The rarest flowers never grow —
Where we plan them, but where we wait,
For wonder to walk through the gate.

🎶 Are you ready? Are you steady?
Bus ride to heaven on cloud 7.
Golden minutes, borrowed skies,
One sweet soul and sunlight eyes.
Are you ready? Are you steady?
Bus ride to heaven on cloud 7.
Talked of life, of dreams, of skies,
A dance of souls in warm goodbyes. 🎶

Oh, life is a secret door,
Opening when we ask for more,
Not in plans or grand displays,
But in the soft, forgotten days.
A fleeting ride, a glimpse, a spark,
That lights forever in the dark.

Riding...
Gliding...
Hearts colliding...
On cloud 7...
On cloud 7...

🎶 Are you ready? Are you steady?
Bus ride to heaven on cloud 7.
Golden minutes, borrowed skies,
One sweet soul and sunlight eyes.
Are you ready? Are you steady?
Bus ride to heaven on cloud 7.
Not forever, just enough,
A short, sweet sip of endless love. 🎶

Bus Ride to Heaven

Holi Day Glee

Joyful Providence II

I am a music producer from North Carolina that makes classic hip hop, trap, R&B beats. Leave a comment below to tell me what you think and if you want to buy a beat leave a comment and I will contact you. Thanks for your support.

Kimpituy - meaning roughly 'butterfly' in Quechua - is the creative nest where music and literature take flight. We proudly present a diverse roster of musical acts:
Groove with the German Soul and Pop sounds of Samtblüten.
Rock out with the Alternative and Indiepop vibes of Velvet Petals.
Get lost in the Club, Trip-Hop, and Electronic landscapes of Calalga Beats.
Beyond our core bands, discover unique projects like the official soundtrack for Oliver Stahmann's book, "Der Faulosoph". 
While our SoundCloud focuses on audio, Kimpituy also publishes books including "The Philoslother", "Benny the Dancing Dog", "The Green Sky", and many more by writers like Oliver Stahmann, Max Stargard, Lilia Alba or Oscar Sullivan.
Follow Kimpituy to stay updated on all our musical journeys! If you are interested in recording or cover one of the songs please reach out. 

P.S.: No interest in Cover Art or Video Art-Offers

🎹 Marc Corominas
I started playing piano at the age of 6, and by 12 I was already improvising. At 18, I began composing and bought my first synthesizer, which led me into ambient and experimental music. Over time, I also embraced the violin, exploring classical, folk, and jazz.
My piano music is intimate and expressive — born from silence, shaped by emotion, and guided by intuition. Each piece is a reflection of a moment, a memory, or a feeling, inviting the listener into a personal and contemplative journey.

Website:
https://musiclfiles.wixsite.com/musiclibraryfiles
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/cemmusicproject/
x.com:
https://x.com/MusicLFiles
Bluesky:
https://bsky.app/profile/musiclfiles.bsky.social
Linkedin:
https://www.linkedin.com/in/marc-corominas-73087118/
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/_royaltyfreemusic_/
TikTok:
https://www.tiktok.com/@musiclfiles

My music for licensing:
https://www.jamendo.com/artist/485950/marc-corominas-pujado
https://audiojungle.net/user/musiclfiles/portfolio
https://motionarray.com/browse/producer/musiclfiles/
https://www.pond5.com/artist/kannonh#1/2064
https://en.audiocrowd.net/composers/508-musiclfiles
https://www.musicrevolution.com/royalty-free-music-tracks/musician/kannonh
https://www.tunepocket.com/composer/musiclfiles/
https://depositphotos.com/es/portfolio-44233842.html?content=music
https://www.motionelements.com/es/contributors/kannonh
https://www.dreamstime.com/marccorominaspujado-more-latest-audio
https://es.123rf.com/audiosearch.php?photogonly=kannonh
https://100audio.com/en/vendor/23977/
https://www.vfinemusic.com/musician/detail/6a00ed789eb4509b001?label_id=%5B%5D&page=1
https://soundotcom.com/artist/Marc-Corominas

🎷 Marc Corominas
I started playing piano at the age of 6, and by 12 I was already improvising — a natural path that eventually led me to jazz. At 18, I began composing and exploring other instruments like the violin, drawing inspiration from classical, folk, and ambient music.
My jazz compositions blend emotion and spontaneity — melodies that breathe, harmonies that explore, and rhythms that move. Rooted in intuition and curiosity, my music invites both reflection and play, balancing structure and freedom in each piece.


Website:
https://musiclfiles.wixsite.com/musiclibraryfiles
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/cemmusicproject/
x.com:
https://x.com/MusicLFiles
Bluesky:
https://bsky.app/profile/musiclfiles.bsky.social
Linkedin:
https://www.linkedin.com/in/marc-corominas-73087118/
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/_royaltyfreemusic_/
TikTok:
https://www.tiktok.com/@musiclfiles

My music for licensing:
https://www.jamendo.com/artist/485950/marc-corominas-pujado
https://audiojungle.net/user/musiclfiles/portfolio
https://motionarray.com/browse/producer/musiclfiles/
https://www.pond5.com/artist/kannonh#1/2064
https://en.audiocrowd.net/composers/508-musiclfiles
https://www.musicrevolution.com/royalty-free-music-tracks/musician/kannonh
https://www.tunepocket.com/composer/musiclfiles/
https://depositphotos.com/es/portfolio-44233842.html?content=music
https://www.motionelements.com/es/contributors/kannonh
https://www.dreamstime.com/marccorominaspujado-more-latest-audio
https://es.123rf.com/audiosearch.php?photogonly=kannonh
https://100audio.com/en/vendor/23977/
https://www.vfinemusic.com/musician/detail/6a00ed789eb4509b001?label_id=%5B%5D&page=1
https://soundotcom.com/artist/Marc-Corominas

Creator of transformative songs, blending genres like pop, salsa, trap, ballad, and Christian music with deep messages of love, hope, peace, and social awareness.

New tracks tagged #Joyful