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  • esseystern 11w

    Day

    Crystals in the arms and in the liver.
    You need them to resonate.
    Be careful. You never know what feeds off them.

  • esseystern 11w

    Night 5.

    A melody that cycles and returns. It can be strengthtened and tinted, and almost heard,
    and yet it amounts to a barely-there feeling, more quiet and peaceful than a dream.
    The piece was heard by many. The composer doesn't know where it was born.

  • esseystern 11w

    Night 4.

    Even in the darkness I see the shapes of music. They may escape through the moon.
    And yet they linger.

  • esseystern 11w

    Night 3.

    The body is loud at night, drinking is loud.
    Gulping, gasping, beating of the heart.
    Veins or pipes, it doesn't matter. The sounds pile atop each other, curling around the ears, a WATERFALL.

  • esseystern 11w

    Night 2

    When hearing lingers, it first reaches the muscles and then the head.
    Before the sounds get processed,
    translated into the perfect speech of the mind,
    they sink through body and go into the eyes.

  • esseystern 11w

    Night 1.

    My mind is filled to the brim with a melody.
    It's like pouring water to drink in the darkness.
    Sticking a finger into the cup, waiting at the pipes. It's touching. The water climbs and climbs.

  • esseystern 13w

    Inspired by Couperin, Messe pour le Paroisses
    https://youtu.be/iK2qERtPkOQ

    Read More

    CROAK OF DAWN

    At five o'clock in the morning
    A man still plays at the cloister cathedral
    The organ groans steadily
    The walls start to sweat in the sun

    It's very cold in summer
    The night blows through candles quickly
    The organist doesn't waste paper
    he takes in the music flowing through his fingers

    He'll carry it out of the darkness
    Into the airless county churches
    Service starts at five thirty though
    He takes off his coat and leaves

  • esseystern 13w

    Inspired by Couperin, Messe pour le Paroisses
    https://youtu.be/iK2qERtPkOQ

    Read More

    CROAK OF DAWN

    At five o'clock in the morning
    A man still plays at the cloister cathedral
    The organ groans steadily
    The walls start to sweat in the sun

    It's very cold in summer
    The night blows through candles quickly
    The organist doesn't waste paper
    he takes in the music flowing through his fingers

    He'll carry it out of the darkness
    Into the airless county churches
    Service starts at five thirty though
    He takes off his coat and leaves

  • esseystern 14w

    Angel of Light symphony by Rautavaara https://youtu.be/aRa6-wRU7T4

    Read More

    Angel of light
    Coils his wings around the world

    The clouds are ripped apart
    The rain is stilled. Silence.

    The golden eye opens
    Mouths slacken in reverie

    Human skin sings so softly
    It cannot be heard at all.

  • esseystern 15w

    Gardenwork

    I saw you in the black spots
    That the sun left in my eyes
    In the middle of the strawberry plot
    You were dancing

    You had wings as large
    As the old cherry tree, pillar of the garden
    And on your face was the smile
    Of a bee robbing a flower

    in truth you were made
    From grass weeds molded leaves
    In the dried out eyes and heat struck brain
    Of a worker on a humorless day

    And your gown fluttered
    In the slight wind and dissolved
    As I drunk from a bottle of lukewarm water
    With half -closed eyes like the orbs of a moon