|
The Bardo of a Dead Artist
Pt1
As I was falling asleep
last night
i was dreaming
I was flying
way out there
in the dark
seems like I was
a point of light
in the middle of nowhere
...
many things
come and go
through my mind
...
but none stronger
than the music
that flows and flies
and lives within me
even as I count the seconds
before memory disappears
and I fly
or cease to fly
one never knows the difference
...
but in the middle of that
memory
euphoria
excitement
sleepy refrain
body ...
that won't move
... you can still
hear something
a flow of notes
and strings
and sounds
that lives, and
passes me by
as I close my eyes
to just enjoy
and appreciate
even if only for a few seconds
that heavenly sound
of something
that has been called music
but in many ways
it isn't
...
it's a life force
a life giving stream
of a healthy energy
that lives
within you
...
or you might not feel it
or ever see it
or worse
ever hear it.
As I fell asleep,
I could easily count
the steps
the doors
the many ideas
and visions
of an endless
flow
...
I call it music
...
something that has
life
vision
unity
love
...
and it takes you
everywhere
nowhere
right here
...
a feeling of
weightlessness
flying
twisting
turning
flipping
...
a child's airplane
but in those moments
when the note stretches
and turns
and flies
ever harder
faster
closer to that other light
...
you see yourself
feeling like
you want to leave
and live
where the music is
...
and we are not
...
...
we want to be
one with it
...
we want to
...
how can I describe
something
...
that you can't see
...
that takes me
every day
from here
to a land
where
that sound
and feeling
and feel
...
is sacred
...
as I fall asleep
not even sure
if I will wake up
the next time or not
...
and create
another poem
another recitation
of an inner life
that so often is denied me
because of fame
because of ...
doesn't matter
...
the music
is my clothing
my mind
and my soul
...
let it take me
wherever
it needs to
...
words have no meaning
ideas and thoughts even less
as I live through
one more night
passing into sleep
...
hearing that heavenly sound
of the spheres
... with all its colors,
lights, or darkness,
and movement
...
I can only call it flying
as I pass by
many thoughts
many feelings
all of them
so unimportant now
since the music
is all there is
that drives me
and takes me
...
into that moment
when I have closed my eyes
and I no longer see anything
or remember anything
...
in the middle of nowhere
right here
...
at the same time
...
as I close my eyes
hearing one last refrain
and remember ... nothing
...
Pedro Sena (c) 2016 Printed with Permission
(Pts 2-9 still to come! but will be published in the Ygdrasil Journal of Poetic Arts only, for now)(This set of poems is dedicated STRICTLY to the music of Tangerine Dream from day 1)
|
