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)
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