Musing nude #16 on patterns and creation 

Combining #yogawhiteout and #dawnoftheyogi because I can 😘✌️ Musingnude#15 (on patterns)
The patterns created by keys of a piano played out in music is life itself. 

Some melodies and patterns sad, happy, light, heavy, loud, soft, complex, simple, beautiful, ugly…..

This is the physical pattern of our life and creation. The creation story we all search for is everywhere,

In ever sentence,

In every song,

In every idea, 

In every form. 

They all begin bold and bright in Capital. 

And end in a point .(softly), !(boldly), ?(unanswered),,(continuously)….(and on to…)

It is organic and very alive. 

It changes continuously and is formed and made intricate with each thought and action. 

And the whole of which we are a piece of, so everything is always a part of it. 

Watch the patterns of the keys of a piano, the bam da dippidy boom bam of the drumsticks, and

The tight vibrations of strings,

Listen to the emotion, sorrow, happiness, love, anger, frustration of each song.

Feel it on the fine hairs of your skin quivering or soothing.

Smell it in the subtle sweet, musky, dank, nostalgic air.

Taste each morsel of apples, butter, lemon, peach, drink, and lover.

Feel each 

Crunch, slurp, swish, slide

Within these patterns explains life.

This is each person. 

Child of the Night 

I’m a child of the night 

Pusher of dreams 

Mover of melodies or maladies 

Calamities and blasphemies 

With Sense of ease and on my knees 

I am a Child of the night 

I cannot please nor satiate 

The thirst in these nights of dirty deeds. 

Throat burning 

Room humming 

Mind running 

Eyes fluttering 

So I give in and do what I need

To keep me sane until I peak 

And the palpitations shake. 
Outside the birds twit 

And I collapse. 

I am the child of the night 

I give in. 

#nocturneineminor #chopin #insomniac #piano #poet #pianist #mistsakesandall 

Therapy

  
 

We screamed, yelled

Moaned and groaned 

Slapped skin,

Plucked and pounded 

Shook until the whole house and everyone in it throbbed,

Collapsed 

And healed. 

Nas Calls Little D Sistar

I keep seeing you in my dreams.
The other night I had a dream we went hiking and we ended up at a party with the intelligently hip.
Yukimi from Little Dragon was there and she says,”I’ll sing three songs. Which songs do you love?”
In which I reply, “I love Nabuma Rubber band, Killing Me, and Feather… Well actually I can’t narrow it down. Sing what you’d like.”
And in her cool sultry voice she says,”Download a mic app on that iPad of yours and I’ll sing you a song.”
But I was feeling confused and lost so this tech kid starts tapping away at the pad without turning away from some other thing he’s working on and hands it to Yukimi without looking up. Yukimi starts to sing into it and I say,”Yes. This is it, But I’ve never heard this before.” And I pick up a cd on the coffee table in which the title reads, “Nas Calls Little D Sistar” just like so.
And you ask, “Why aren’t we smoking a fatty right now?”
And I reply straight into your eyes, “I’ll roll you a fat blunt when we get home.” And I wake up before she could sing song number two.
I’m in bed smiling because I got to see you again and the dream was so vivid. I realize you might not even know who Little Dragon are because it’s been that long since you left me here on Earth to that Paradise up above, but it was great seeing you this week.
I’m missing you like crazy!
Hope all is still rip on the other side. And when we meet again, I’ll bring the fatty Sistar!

http://instagram.com/p/yVAusRmTVX/

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The Beat of Meat

The Beat of Meat

Some kind of harmony flows through the bustle of noise.
It starts with a sound, like ah
and follows a beat.
To chase then choke and try
to change for chance it catches
a rhythm where the
blood charges the hollow tubes
that move it’s way into the
thump thumping BEAT
that BrEAThes
Ah.

New sounds created by dead tissue
brings to life the machines.
Androids fabricating pulsations more rhythmic
than my piece that drums off beat.

Wallowing in the hollow
howl of the electric vibrations of the synthesized heart
the valves womp,
I
want
to
want
to
do what
I want.

The ego questions
what can one want?

The wise reply
what to want
is not to want,
And the beat changes.

Nirvana, Samsara, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

Yet Ego questions still.
Would I not be anything more than one with a synthesized heart beat
producing electronic pulses with each anthropomorphic breath
Without the want?
Does my soul tumble down through the hollow tubes
searching for a place to land and push through the life
that courses through the veins?

Let’s go to the place the other off beat meat go
to the place where I walk with my left
and left again to come again to the place where only those who left came.

And in this off beat way I find my place
by walking in circles.
And each time coming to a new place
Through perpetual change,
I never leave my circle
because there is no need.

Eventually my two left feet will catch up with the right beat
and I will be happy wanting the right to be right
because there is no right
or wrong
or want
and what is will be and will be what it is.
Letting go of any preconceived notions of what that want is,

Walk in circles without seizing
To step away or change direction.
Don’t walk unbent because
one will always chase the momentum
straight off the line
and the prey stays ahead.

While I praying to reach the chase,
Walk in circles and don’t ever stop
Because in that circular chase, the paths constantly change
and chances are that what the hunter chases
will eventually catch the prey
and the steps will come together and become one

Beat.

20120509-020548.jpg

The Beat of Meat

The Beat of Meat

Some kind of harmony flows through the bustle of noise.
It starts with a sound, like ah
and follows a beat.
To chase then choke and try
to change for chance it catches
a rhythm where the
blood charges the hollow tubes
that move it’s way into the
thump thumping BEAT
that BrEAThes
Ah.

New sounds created by dead tissue
brings to life the machines.
Androids fabricating pulsations more rhythmic
than my piece that drums off beat.

Wallowing in the hollow
howl of the electric vibrations of the synthesized heart
the valves womp,
I
want
to
want
to
do what
I want.

The ego questions
what can one want?

The wise reply
what to want
is not to want,
And the beat changes.

Nirvana, Samsara, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

Yet Ego questions still.
Would I not be anything more than one with a synthesized heart beat
producing electronic pulses with each anthropomorphic breath
Without the want?
Does my soul tumble down through the hollow tubes
searching for a place to land and push through the life
that courses through the veins?

Let’s go to the place the other off beat meat go
to the place where I walk with my left
and left again to come again to the place where only those who left came.

And in this off beat way I find my place
by walking in circles.
And each time coming to a new place
Through perpetual change,
I never leave my circle
because there is no need.

Eventually my two left feet will catch up with the right beat
and I will be happy wanting the right to be right
because there is no right
or wrong
or want
and what is will be and will be what it is.
Letting go of any preconceived notions of what that want is,

Walk in circles without seizing
To step away or change direction.
Don’t walk unbent because
one will always chase the momentum
straight off the line
and the prey stays ahead.

While I praying to reach the chase,
Walk in circles and don’t ever stop
Because in that circular chase, the paths constantly change
and chances are that what the hunter chases
will eventually catch the prey
and the steps will come together and become one

Beat.

20120509-020548.jpg