Monday, October 20, 2008

Saturday, October 18, 2008

for a little music o' mine~


click on this link to some o' my musics

A link to Mot in Mult~ the digital poem video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqJrcjd6Ymg&feature=user

slightly inferior quality to the original~ but available now~!

Kids to Tree~

video

Wonders that wait~~

peaks of foam that soon will still,
little better hopeful will.
slightly dandered twists of salt,
stupor beyond finding fault

with hence a score of two plus more,
lands a day upon this floor.
with no rook or knight to keenly glean,
future past is not yet seen.

over lights and crannies cracked,
through tall windows
dreams are tracked.
wonders waiting, with insights long,
drowning sound in silent song.

~ Clara, a fly- a Herr‘s Story ~

(as a carefully convoluted clarificational spun-ning)
i call it:


~ Clara, a fly- uhh, a Herr‘s Story ~


so.
like-
once there was this chip on the shoulder of a wall.
and on this chip a salt grain, maybe not so small.
and Clara was a fly~ not flying very high~
but she was sure high enough to spy that chip,
tho' she wasn't generally so good at tellin' a
shoulder- from a wall-

her buzzing was emphatic,
her heart-rate climbing pretty tall
at the outside chance that she could fall
upon this chip, with its salt grain-not so small.
and surely she would like to -land,
but since she wouldn't fly so high,
falling was her plan,
or what she thought she'd best hope for is all.

so while she's buzzing here and there,
and aiming to fall for it all,
wall is gettin' bored,
shoulder of wall? just cynical about it all,
and chip? shiii.. finds Clara, fly?
is beginning to cast a pall-
“silly fly~ why you think you can’t fly high?
why you so excited? why?”

and Clara, with her buzzing intensive,
begins to get a little defensive,
at chip, and his terrible seeming, insensi-
tivity offensive.
But chip don’t care, he’s got his wall,
and his shoulder,
and o’ course his salt grain, not so small-
and he’ll just stare,
waitin’ there,
for Clara to fall-
maybe off on that rocker,
the one in the hall~
nearby, over there- he’ll try not to mock her
‘cause really now, he’s not so bad, he means no harm,
he’s just hangin’out, just watchin’& watchin~
the uhm, chips fall …

come what may.
“I’d like to just…” Clara-fly said.
“well, for your information… there’s no fear here,
none by me, dear.”
she added the “dear” to address the chip,
‘cause she figured dear’d work better
than calling him a dip chip.
“well then fine”, said the chip, on the shoulder of a wall,
“calm down and fly on over, if my salt-grain, not so
small, is really what you wanna fall- for”.
and tho’ questioning his motives,
as Clara, a fly will sometimes do-
she calmed down and flew on over,
‘cause it turned out that chip, on the shoulder of a wall,
with a salt-grain not so small-
really wasn‘t so high
up in the sky,
and she hadn’t needed to worry about aiming her fall.

no, no~ not, at all.
that is..

until~~~ she hit the wall.