Five Freeform Songs: Set 4

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Song #1:

Millennial Whoop Song:

“In Our Beginning”

Hear it:

In our beginning…

We sailed on tall ships,

Caribbean midnight strollers;

and we were full enough,

rusty-dancing on smiles.

Can you remember -

our house in a slow sky;

a season of red wine;

beauty in silence

rusty-dancing on smiles…

A field of potatoes

lunch in the tall grass,

a dragon Christmas sandwich;

me, debonair;

you, a golden sunset –

a twilight folded in stars

and layered in dreams…

We leap from the station,

head out of the city;

parading coffee rainbows;

You bathe in blue sorrows

kissed by the moonlight

and secret breezes

that tell of gray shadows…

Windy scenery,

weeping bonfires,

I hold your hand,

fathomed in tandem,

looking forever for the

wise woman wonder;

the path leads Westward.

You and I,

in our beginning.

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Song #2:

Millennial Whoop Song #2:

“From Ancient Memory Keeps”

Hear it:

…you, like a falcon rock, glittering in

textured threadings from memories, deep.

Our day, arrayed in gloom,

the troops of cobblestones laced in snow,

our visage beyond our control.

A thousand painted highways sleep.

Forgotten white trails,

crystalline ripplings foaming sweet,

sunlit saplings draw the dusk in…

beneath meandering ancient memory keeps.

High in the tower, filled with memories,

flowing through your hair

in ancient memory keeps…

Toes pierce the napkin

around the lemon corner;

bell-boned thunder on your satin skin.

Electric slippers dance and deep-sing,

beneath meandering ancient keeps.

Through the willows, bell towers,

a glimiss…

A black-bean artist in your hand

adorned with graveyard fog-flowers;

the shore beast hunting in hushed white drifts.

Wisps of children bang pans and things.

In the starlight, banging…

Starlight, luminous, on a moon-painted chair,

ghost-fruit between your fingers;

a sudden whirl through the window brings

textured threadings from memories, deep.

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Song #3:

Diamond Groovin’ with Credit Cards

Hear it:

Words begin around 5:05 (if you do not have the time for the leading instrumentals)

Saturday, August 27th

You should begin to use your new M&T Visa credit card

and destroy your old credit card.

Please note, your Visa credit card

must be activated before it can be used.

Be sure to refer to the materials accompanying your card.

Week of August 29th

New advanced checks will be mailed to you

to access funds directly from your credit card account.

Please refer to your new terms and conditions

for specific details on applicable rates and fees.

Please, please refer to the materials

on terms and conditions on applicable rates and fee.

Rates and fees…

rates and fees…

rates…

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Song #4:

The Utopian Loudspeaker

Hear it:

So they met over pie ala mode,
he giving her a dose, she, his sadness right back;

She understood her needs, and he his,
and he hers, and she his,
and so they gave one another a deeper experience
of something that was already pleasing…

He gave her a peek at freedom, at possibility, at deepness –
she called him her ‘enhanced view’…

He told her that her attention was invaluable, immeasurable, incalculable,
and she would be duly rewarded,
but with what, he did not know…

They were going through phases, ala modes,
his being yogurt, though not as photogenic as ice cream;
but it had more protein, less sugar and fat…

“feasting fair plates of niceties and twiceties
and nourishing each other in Vaudeville harmonies…”

He had a hooded, draped, seven-layer look,
as if trudging through a snowy-cold moonlight
through a stand of frozen evergreen
struggling to keep warm within her words,
on a journey of romance and solitude,
hazarding the perilous conditions in pursuit of beauty;

along the way he poked and prodded the black and white world
until an arching rainbow was unveiled…

He finally reached his destination — a steamy bubble bath,
where he pondered

on each bubble as they danced and shimmered on the surface,
attained their brief moment of prismed glory in the light,
then popped out of existence, forever…

She stared at him, waiting patiently,
he, her own rainbow, with ten hearts of gold…
he would say, “Ten hearts of gold between them,
in all fragility and hope, and the expiation of vanity
with two-word metaphors…”

She was captured by his exultations,
her heart melting into a richness that was fulfilling,
embodied in the mystique of their music together –
of unexpected melodies pulling in different directions,
he, composing to match her personalities,
feeling the need to become someone else at times
as they transitioned through empathy, desire, and dreaminess
seeped, in the end, with sensuality, caressing stress, and carrying it all away…

She was lost in the experience,
“mellowed to his tender light
which heaven, to gaudy day, denies…”

He ended his song on the more fragile ‘her’,
the one that reached out to him first, then bonded;
yet which still had misgivings and doubts and insecurities,
and which one day, he knew, would finally stand up and boldly proclaim,
“Yes, I know he loves me!”

Underlying currents shifted directions under their creative gazes,
simple triads became sevenths became elevenths,
externally complex and dynamic,
barely resolving among themselves;
they remained lost in the creation writhing between them –
good exercise for their psyche and emotions alike…

She turned into candlelight that loved his softness,
flickering on cottony clouds in a midnight pitch
under a starry piquance of romantic writing,
melting into sounds of endearment and wonder,
with a tactile amorosity…

He anticipated her candlelight loving softness,
a love twice as nice –
he could barely dare to picture it, it would be that nice…
he took note of her endearment, wonder,
and tactile amorosity;
he told her every table should be set with them…

She was flown away, to a mysterious galaxy,
in a relativistic timelessness of poetic words,
lifted and transformed, and yet captured in nubile naiveté
that turned to a sudden sensuality on impulse power,
then to a warp speed almost without notice…

He saw her as the classical Greek maiden,
carried away in the arms of a Persian,
then as the candle flame,
dancing in the muted glows of a long, flickering night;
then as Ms. Space Marine, in zero-gravity,
who confessed that she felt like she was flown-away

by the galaxy of a mind –
she, his Galaxy Mistress, he, her Prince of Relativity;
she measured herself against her romantic counterpart,
then lifted off;
and both then awoke to pleasant memories
and the kiss of suddenness, and of transported naivetés…

She could feel his love and admiration beneath his words,
as if it were the first creative spark

that lit the fires and imaginations of Man –
her, in personality fragments, serving him a woolly mammoth steak,
sipping on giant fern tea…

She allowed herself to slip into such mesmerized states,
to hear the tones of honeybees hovering in fascination,
feeling the golden richness of his ‘sting’ –
the swelling sweetness, the duality of life and love,
and the enticing journey through the evolution of what they were.

He told her he tried to hold the interest of not only her, but of bugs,
and mammals, to be sure, even avians;
he had yet to test himself on ectotherms –
perhaps amplifying her mind’s sentiments
from the near-core of her natural being would do…

He reminded her of the Japanese language,
where a word could hold a variety of meanings based on nuance,
simply by his writing a story with just one word, ‘Quack’…
so she gave him permission to laugh at her…

He told her he was grateful for that,
otherwise he would only have himself to laugh at;
so… he had plumbed the heart of the Japanese language
without learning a word…

She experienced an intensity, an expression,
a rise and fall, and a resolution,
quite a conceptual experience,
a bit like when she posed for Picasso,
and became his paintings… and
he said that with her experience posing for Picasso,
abstract conceptual experiences should be a breeze…
(and a very ‘breezy’ experience indeed)…

Then, for no reason, he roared…

She liked the way he was bold and unafraid
to lead in new directions,
and yet how he was not predatory
when it would have been easy to grab smaller animals at the jugular;
instead he stood in his pinnacle of perception,
shining thoughts of good will down through his glorious mane,
then writing to empower light…

He enjoyed her enjoying him,
as she enjoyed his enjoying her enjoying him;
before she met him, she felt no self worth,
as if she had no effect on people,
as if she swam at the shallow end of the lagoon;
he said that was meaningfully expressed,
a “peek at the beauties of the deep”…

and so they were many parts of one,
severed into strands of striking poetic poses
plastered over time –
the beginnings and explorations of Man,
the dalliances of the human mind
fluttering like Monarch butterflies
through a wonderful mountain canyon
where two souls united as one
on an eight-fold path to the seven wonders of life –
here a sumptuous feast of words which they devour…

END

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Song #5:

The Enlightenment Song

Hear it:

“Do you know…

that your enlightenment will improve

any horrible attitudes that you have?

Which will affect your motivation

which will affect your activities

which will affect your economy…”

“No, I did not!”

(to which I reply)

“Not only your economy, but evil will disappear.

Your laws and governments will evolve.

You Millennials will yelp at that.”

“Gee, thanks, Mr. Galactic Thinker!

So our economy will improve?”

“Yes.”

“Evil will disappear?”

“Yes.”

“Our laws and governments will evolve,

right along with our mental mindframes?”

“Yes. Yes, they will.”

“Our enlightenment will get rid of our

horrible attitudes and our CLUELESSNESS!?”

“Yes.”

“Gee, thanks, Mr. Galactic Thinker,

we are now enlightened.”

“Do you realize that you can now

distinguish between good and evil

clearly and immediately?”

“No, we did not know that,

Mr. Galactic Thinker.

So how will enlightenment sound again?”

“It will sound like a Major C7,

C Major 7, or a C7…

or even a C6,

or even a C diminished,

which will resolve into a happy C!

Unless… you play the Tritone,

which was diabolical in Medieval times…”

“Did you know that your improvement…”

“Alright, ready for the Rap?”

“Hell no, I’m not going to Rap.

What do you think I am…”

“Enlightenment… enlightenment…

enlightenment…”

“Yelp yelp, yelp yelp, yelp yelp,

Millennial Yelp.”

“Do you know…

that your enlightenment

will improve any horrible attitudes that you have,

which will affect your motivation,

which will affect your activity,

which will improve your economy?”

“No, I did not know that.”

“Not only your economy, but evil will disappear…”

“Not only will your economy will improve

(slight correction there),

while evil will disappears,

and your laws and governments will evolve

right along with your mental mindframe

which will facilitate Broader Survival…”

“Broader Survival,

which affects your selfish individual self,

in case you were still rotten to the core. “

“The Great Struggle will not be easy –

’tis no Utopia;

but anything else is a Philosophy of Death.”

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Bonus Song #1:

Ode to a Dissociative Personality

(or ‘Jane, Kate’)

Hear it: ♪ ♫ and follow along with the words:

Jane…

Kate…

Jane… Kate…

Jane…

Kate…

Oh, Jane.

Kate!

Jane…

Kate…

Oh, Jane:

You walk in the beauty, like the night
Of cloudless clime and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in your aspect and in your eyes…

Jane… Kate…

Woah, Jane… and Kate!

Ah… Jane… Woah! Kate…

Uh-huh. Woah Jane. Jane…..

Kate…

Jane…

Kate?

Jane:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies –
One shade the more, one ray the less
Had half impaired your nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er your face…

Oh, Jane…!

Kate!

Ahhh, Jane…

Ohhh, Kate!

Ahhhhh, Jane…

Ohhhhhhh, Kate…

Jane.

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Bonus Song #2:

Stunning

Hear it:

Stunning,

you drive my blues away.

Stunning, blues away.

Stunning,

you drive my blues away;

Stunning,

you take my breath away;

Stunning,

you take it all away,

stunning.

Ba-da da.

Stunning.

Ooooo, ba-da.

So stunning.

Ya da da.

So stunning.

Stunning,

you drive my blues away;

Stunning,

you take my breath away;

Stunning,

you move my heart, I think…

Stunning.

Ooo, yeah.

Ooo, Stunning.

Ooo, ba-da boo diddly bow.

Stunning.

Ba da boom boddly diddly bop ba ba dow.

You really move me…

Stunning;

you take my breath away.

Stunning;

you throw it all my way.

Stunning,

you take my blues away.

So stunning.

Stunning.

Stunning.

Stunning.

Stunning, so stunning…

Like the starry skies above.

Like the busy street below.

Stunning.

No shop can hold the treasures I behold in you.

Stunning.

Oh, so stunning, like the sky above.

Stunning.

Oh, stunning.

Stunning,

you blew my blues away.

I can appreciate your stunning.

Oh, stunning.

The blues, a mile away.

Oh, stunning.

Starry skies is what I see in you.

Stunning.

Oh, this night, flying, because you’re…

Stunning.

So stunning.

I’ll just sit here and watch your stunning,

under the starry sky.

Stunning.

Stunning.

Electronics technician. Writing Style: Unschooled. Philosophy: Humanity has a serious problem. Read the Philosophy of Broader Survival, which addresses it.

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