The perfect spooky soundscape to your poem, very well put together, happy Halloween Jim!

Amazing sounds here, Jim.  Beautifully crafted!!

Spoooky! 🧟‍♂️👻 Lovely, creative use of sounds & textures. The pick scrapes are a nice touch 👌

Just The Whistling of the Wind

What do you do when your love is not around?
What do you say when words don’t seem to have
Much meaning anymore?

What do you do when your heart’s been broken badly?
What do you say when your life’s been torn to shreds
And there’s no one there to help?

And you wonder what you did wrong
And you wonder was it only you

And you know there is no answer
Just the whistling of the wind.

What do you do when the night is cold and lonely?
What do you say when the world has turned to gray
And your heart is dark and empty?

And you wonder what you did wrong
And you wonder was it only you

And you know there is no answer
Just the whistling of the wind.

Do you take a walk around the park
See couples hug and kiss?

But the only sound you hear 
Is the whistling of the wind.

--© 2022 Jim Valero (all rights reserved)

Jim Valero: Voice, Piano, Electric Guitar.
Special thanks to Rodrigo Passannanti for his incredible arrangement and special effects. 

* Arranged, Remixed, and Produced by Rodrigo Passannanti.
https://rodrigopassannanti.bandcamp.com/album/open-source

Just the Whistling of the WInd

Aladin's Magic Carpet



This musical composition is inspired by Lord Dunsany's "The Fall of Babbulkund."

I said: "I will arise now and see Babbulkund, City of Marvel. She is of one age with the earth; the stars are her sisters. Pharaohs of the old time coming conquering from Araby first saw her, a solitary mountain in the desert, and cut the mountain into towers and terraces. "
                                                       --Lord Dunsany, "The Fall of Babbulkund."

© 2025 Valhjim & Luca Ascari (all rights reserved).

Babbulkund

Glass Castles
Lyrics and Music: Ron Wrolson
Arrangement, Instrumentaion, and Recording Engineering: Ron Wrolson
Published by ZenSongs Music - ©2024

I Watch the tube with an empty gaze,
to get the morning news in a foggy haze.
It’s a dumpster fire, this political maze.
But, who’s to say how I spend my days?
Because wiser men are running off the rails,
And who prevails when the system fails?
When no one’s on the up and up!
The whole damn thing’s corrupt.

Our fearless leader dying on the vine,
The sparkle fades, Who’s next in line?
She takes the stage, hard to gauge,
Reading lines from a hidden page.
And the paradox, of this coming age of Aquarius . . .
Seems so strange.

The world keeps getting meaner,
Good will is running lean.
There’s too much sun, too little oil
to feed the bad machine.

Still, the Trust Fund Babies get their overdose,
of political pills from the media hosts,
as they set their sites, gettin’ real close
to the Occidental Kill.
How tall they stand on promise,
How brittle in their strength.
The tawdry work of witless fools
will go to any length,
to serve a pact with masters
whose reach exceeds its grasp.

Glass Castles glitter in the sun.
The works of all the ages
now raveling undone.
How tall they stood in majesty,
Now hollow in the spine.
Transparency, their superpower,
exposes their web of lies.

(Guitar solo)

Glass Castles glitter in the sun.
The works of all the ages
now raveling undone.
How tall they stood in majesty,
Now hollow in the spine.
Transparency, their superpower,
exposes their web of lies.

Glass Castles*

A Perfect Day
Valhjim


I wake up to birdsong and rose skies—
the breeze cool, the day still opening
like a flower. 

The dew of dawn still in the air, and 
the scent of last night's rain on damp earth
and the bark of trees. The sun shows 

a friendly face, indisposed apparently
to scorch the world today. 

I  take a sip of coffee and play a sequence
of notes on the keyboard.—a perfect melody
to blossom like the day. 

All is well. I am content. 

**********
Valhjim: guitars and synths.
Martin Miers: drums.

© 2025 Valhjim. All rights reserved. Original music by Valhjim.

A Perfect Day — Valhjim w/Martin Miers

"Desert Sands"
Valhjim

Sultry night in the desert,
the heat of the sun is gone,
and myriad stars are visible
in the boundless dome of the sky

the wind tells its tales of long ago,
of caravans and sultans and a girl
with long hair and fair face
weaving stories for a man in the night;

perhaps somebody is telling 
our stories in the night somewhere—

tales equally magic and fantastic
like the tales the girl tells the sultan. 

***************

Valhjim: guitar, synthesizers, samplers.
Martin Miers: drums.

**************
© 2025 Valhjim. All rights reserved. Original music by Valhjim.

Desert Sands — Valhjim w/Martin Miers

Laniakea

HAIKU MUSIC CHALLENGE

Naviarhaiku 603

insect tremolo
soberingly cools the heat
of farmland roads

Kogetsu Eguchi (1825-1867) was a Japanese poet active in the late Edo period. Together with Kazan Watanabe, he authored the haiku book Tōke shunchō.

Haiku by Kogetsu Eguchi

Picture by Luca Ercolani
 

Submission deadline: 30th July 2025
To find out more and participate, visit https://www.naviarrecords.com/haiku-music-challenge/

Equilibrium (naviarhaiku603)

In collaboration with Francess Harris. She played the piano composition and I did the composition of the orchestral arrangement. Thank you for listening and enjoy. Any comment is appreciated always.

Collaboration Timothy McGuire / Francess Harris

The Enchanted Hour

The Enchanted Hour (feat. Fr. Harris)

"The Summoning of the Dead—A Symphonicc Poem"
Valhjim


'Tis the Midnight hour
and the bell is tolling twelve.
There are whispers in the air
as the dead begin to wake.

The wind blows, the moon groans,
Death plays a plaintive tune.
The dead, they shake their bones,
Death's a melancholy boon.

They moan, they groan, they whisper thrice,
Death's violin plays a haunting melody.
On the piano, a soul replies—
they lead the dead to stir and rise:
They dance in dreadful ecstasy!

They dance, they dip; they twist
and twirl, they rattle and roll. 
The moon, it gleams and clothes
The dead in shimmering silver light.

The clarinet sighs, the whispers fade,
low rumbles linger, faint and far.
The bell tolls again—despondent, distant.
The bones return to dusk.

Click on the link below for a phonetic analysis of the poem: 
https://1drv.ms/w/c/f689b32f49a73ede/ERLRo6SzxmtFjAyJDCBWouABlxFxBqD_tpOW4mzYSeic1Q
******************
Valhjim: synthesizers, samplers.

******************
© 2025 Valhjim. All rights reserved. Original music by Valhjim.

The Summoning of the Dead: A Symphonic Poem

Lyrics and Music by Jim Valero--(C) Jim Valero, 2018 (all rights reserved).


GUENEVERE

He could no longer hear the swan song
in her eyes, 
nor see the fires of ungratified desire 
that oftentimes darkened the hazel 
of her eyes, as she looked at him, presiding 
over gallant knights and gracious ladies 
at the Table Round.

Now the silken images grafted on her skin
were fading out—the secret music of her sighs 
seemed but distant whisperings
in an alien tongue.

Could he still remember that clear September 
morn when she came to him, an unripe yet 
enchanted thing—long-tressed and tender 
under azure skies, eyes agleam with magnetic 
dreams? 

She had not loved him yet with that fiery
passion that would only come but later, 
when she had grown into womanhood
under his hands—

Had he not made her a woman after all? 
had she not blossomed on his skin, 
perfect and full, like some rich 
luxuriant fruit from paradise, 
and all the starry skies sparkling 
over Camelot in the soft-feathered night? 

But that had been long ago, before the ceaseless
jousting, and the dull processions from faraway lands 
engrossed his fancy, robbed him of his youthful heart
so long ago

Now his talk was like the talk of those who came 
to greet great King Arthur, famous knights, 
and fake upstarts looking for promotion, 
ladies “in distress,” who sat like peacocks 
at the Table Round

now there was no poetry to inflame 
the morning mist with visionary gleams 
as in the days that were

long ago, long ago, long ago

Lyrics and Music by Jim Valero

—© Jim Valero, 2018.

Winnevere

Valhjim is a music composer with an eclectic approach to different genres: rock, pop, folk, New Age, and experimental electronic music. Greatly driven by imagination and poetic imagery, he combines multiple instrumental textures to fire the imagination of his listeners. 

His more experimental ambience and electronic music is built with layers of suggestive sound textures, rhythms, and melodic lines that stir the imagination into suggestive imagery and worlds unseen, true architectures of sound that open up limitless spaces to explore. Often Valhjim's melodies sail through genre thresholds, crossing over from one genre to another, from neo classcal to electronic, or from jazz to rock or new age.

The Summoning of the Dead: A Symphonic Poem

Valhjim

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