Song trails that slither from first listen
Within earshot of audial artists
Who breathe life into the land
Lead the way to uncharted territory
Through their borderless kingdoms.
Behold their familiar capitals,
Where each road diverges
Into the contours of soundscapes
Broadcast from instrumental towers
Legislated by each musician.
They summon sentimental chords
Eroding the land to polished stone
Sculpting its terrain like the wind
Cast from a heavenly harp's crown.
The heartland is Osborne, endless prairie
Where banjos strum with big sky drums,
Grains and grasses reach for heaven
As the whiskey dogs round up crops
For the weekend hoedown by the river.
Strong brethren till the soil, saluting the sun
That beats off the chrome of their trucks,
Providing for family and community,
Hearts and hands calloused from all the labor,
Proud of their purpose, grateful for the seasons.
Under Blue Lab Ocean neon cities exfoliate
From relaxing reggae the island canopy sank
Sea deep through funky coral rhapsodized
By delightful rap ripe jazz vibes rising
From the groovy lounges of conch shells.
Amphibian commuters surf the waves
Ridin' the flow, chillin' with millions of beats
Blown breezy 'round tropical bays,
The frothy emergence of galactic night
In tune with the disco town lagoons.
In Birthday metropolis the dying light fragments
Rainbows bridged by keys purple and black,
Shattered by urban melancholy excesses,
Where children subjected to lost innocence
Brace the cold rain with lovelorn abandon.
They hop over puddles as the sky falls
Cast by distortion of broken guitar clouds,
Their rabbit ears flailing under red stars,
Toys floundering from the stratospheric flood,
Celebrating a year that surrendered to horror.
Moving south over mountains mocha
The Volta Desert opens, vast as fading outros,
Behemoth sandstorms on blemished horizon
Littering skeletal remains of aborted trumpets
Across the barren hardpan to dusty shards.
Orange gypsy nuns lug goliath corpses
Unearthed from the umbilical depths
Over hazardous waste of drum-stricken halos,
Traipsing under the hazy chromosphere,
Melted skinless by apex octave gamma rays.
The mountains of Cusco are limestone wonders
With soaring cliffs that dazzle villagers
Living in valleys, listening religiously to monks
Who play flutes from their peak-born temples,
Sliding their notes down slopes by arboreal wind.
Purity of alpine sound evokes a mystery
That people living above clouds know best,
A celebrated tranquility bestowed by isolation
Marrying wisdom to the supernal rhythm,
An ancient ritual inviting spirits from beyond.
Beyond the rim lies the Mushroom forest
Where synthesizers entrance gnome electricians
Sparking up in the stems where they dwell,
Tending to gardens under the caps by day,
Strung out at strobe light raves by night.
Bioluminescent fungi trips the nocturnal brush
Snuffed over by smoke and lanterns hanging
From tall evergreens that shelter the shrooms,
A twilit psychedelic apocalypse swelling
To a distant salvation, sprinkled by bells.
Rush hour half-light splits the Satriani maze,
Traffic plucked apart by freeway shredders
Who shoot pinball tremolos up skyscrapers
To decorate the atmosphere in blue dream lightning,
Silhouettes reflected off the front stage waterfront.
Clean patterns of windows laminate the orbital
Delta-v towers that protect virtuoso aliens
From bass-blown shockwaves in the wormhole,
Powering the grid by strings bent to thrashing,
Amplified by their crystal planet overlords.
Below ground in the Toolshed caverns
Miners toil with their drumstick pickaxes
Pounding through the tympanic rubble, seeking
Wholeness in passionate screams that echo
Down corridors of a mathematical temple.
The holy grail is near, they roar with anger,
Heavy breath forged from speleothem vapors
Acidified by stalactite ceilings arrayed
In synchronized percussion that percolates
To the bottom, where purest metal is truth.
In the north, at the roof of the world lies Airland,
Where ice fairies play harps in the clouds
That pinwheel the wind, scattering it south
In snowy amnesia over glacier-white plateaus,
Carried aloft to the continents by violin jet streams.
Floating in ethereal vortices are piano sheets
Crafted by elven birds that carried the notes
Over tundra and frozen seas to soothe each storm
With albino keys of peace, gyrating radians
In polar coordinates that mandate all motion.
Radiohead is a foggy coast,
Santana a festive jungle,
Delerium a valley of waterfalls,
Beach House a sandy Mecca,
Snarky Puppy a sultry swamp,
Lacuna a volcano of torture,
Farish a tropical dune wonderland,
Kamasi a cosmic space port,
And you know the rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment