What Music?
By Halocination
Listen to the beat…The beating of your heart as it break beats its way to drum and bass As it romanticizes the junglist to leave earthen things To find the ecstasy of an atmospheric trance.We dance on the ocean floor with rays of sunlight to strobe our movementsSwimming undressed through notes from a distant sitarDrowning in oceans of trembling stringsCatching glimpses of worlds in between each line of musicWhere sirens retreat with their stolen melodiesLater they’ll sing their enchantments and gather lonely soulsThey’ll steal them away to a blissful and dreary landWhere Mozart, Beethoven and Bach have retired their auditory perversionsAnd their greatest compositions lay waiting to be discovered.Falling into the open arms of resounding ivory keys battering piano stringsInnumerable horns pitching heights that cannot be reached by EverestOr St Helen even with resounding eruptions of magma or volcanic ashOrchestrate the symphony of life and write it on a multi-dimensional planeSet the tones of drums to bass their way into inaudible tones that shake lost soulsTones that can only be heard by canines and that cause them to foam at the mouthAnd attack any that dare to interrupt the harmony of inevitable destructionDrowning in the ocean of overwhelming instrumentation,Pianos, cellos, violins and oh yes drums, horns and clarinets,Orchestrate the blades of grass on the sides of the mountainAnd the sands of deserts on the surface of Mars, redden your notes Draw blood from the ears of those listening so that they know Listening is half the experience,Real music will cause you to gag during ingestionIt will cause you to stutter and bite your tongue It will cause you to heel up, wheel up, bring it back, come rewindStrings, woodwinds, brass, and percussions on the edge of insanityNotes that break glass and shatter concentrationSounds that illustrate cloud formations and echo earthquakesApplauded by falling trees in the AmazonsThe cause of seismicity, volcanism, continental drift and mountain buildingDetermining the formation, destruction, movement and interaction of the earth’s lithospheric platesStillness… and then, cymbals crash in ocean waves against titanic cliffsEstablishing climatic pause to queue the fat lady to begin singingMother nature bellows in the falling of the Niagara,Riches stored in the banks of the Nile, the Ganges, and the mighty MississippiMuddy waters metaphor the cloudiness of clustered instruments that clarify upon reaching the oceanJutting deltaic mud out into the oceans claiming new territory as it’s ownThat is how we claim new music leaving the past sounds echoing in our memoriesLike a memory I want to be on your mind, That’s how we steal lines and drop bass lines on the heads of those that paved the wayFor maniacal noise to be regarded as industrial, techno, drum n bass, jungleWhat music? You call that music? You can’t even hear the words.But listen because hearing is only half the experienceDrown in your music because it is the rhythm by which your soul survives…Copyright ©2001 AllisterOkay, before this one gets bashed to all hell, it's about the music I listen too, actually what the heck, bash away, I want to know if you hate it... And no I didn't use a dictionary to write it, that's actually the way I think, I know, I know I'm a big nerd what else is new... Written April 6th, 2001 © on Sep 20 2001 03:45 AM PST 20 • 0 • 10
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"Listen to the beat…The beating of your heart as it break beats its way to drum and bass As it romanticizes the junglist to leave earthen things To find the ecstasy of an atmospheric trance.We dance on the ocean floor with rays of sunlight to strobe our movementsSwimming undressed through notes from a distant sitarDrowning in oceans of trembling stringsCatching glimpses of worlds in between each line of musicWhere sirens retreat with their stolen melodiesLater they’ll sing their enchantments and gather lonely soulsThey’ll steal them away to a blissful and dreary landWhere Mozart, Beethoven and Bach have retired their auditory perversionsAnd their greatest compositions lay waiting to be discovered.Falling into the open arms of resounding ivory keys battering piano stringsInnumerable horns pitching heights that cannot be reached by EverestOr St Helen even with resounding eruptions of magma or volcanic ashOrchestrate the symphony of life and write it on a multi-dimensional planeSet the tones of drums to bass their way into inaudible tones that shake lost soulsTones that can only be heard by canines and that cause them to foam at the mouthAnd attack any that dare to interrupt the harmony of inevitable destructionDrowning in the ocean of overwhelming instrumentation,Pianos, cellos, violins and oh yes drums, horns and clarinets,Orchestrate the blades of grass on the sides of the mountainAnd the sands of deserts on the surface of Mars, redden your notes Draw blood from the ears of those listening so that they know Listening is half the experience,Real music will cause you to gag during ingestionIt will cause you to stutter and bite your tongue It will cause you to heel up, wheel up, bring it back, come rewindStrings, woodwinds, brass, and percussions on the edge of insanityNotes that break glass and shatter concentrationSounds that illustrate cloud formations and echo earthquakesApplauded by falling trees in the AmazonsThe cause of seismicity, volcanism, continental drift and mountain buildingDetermining the formation, destruction, movement and interaction of the earth’s lithospheric platesStillness… and then, cymbals crash in ocean waves against titanic cliffsEstablishing climatic pause to queue the fat lady to begin singingMother nature bellows in the falling of the Niagara,Riches stored in the banks of the Nile, the Ganges, and the mighty MississippiMuddy waters metaphor the cloudiness of clustered instruments that clarify upon reaching the oceanJutting deltaic mud out into the oceans claiming new territory as it’s ownThat is how we claim new music leaving the past sounds echoing in our memoriesLike a memory I want to be on your mind, That’s how we steal lines and drop bass lines on the heads of those that paved the wayFor maniacal noise to be regarded as industrial, techno, drum n bass, jungleWhat music? You call that music? You can’t even hear the words.But listen because hearing is only half the experienceDrown in your music because it is the rhythm by which your soul survives…Copyright ©2001 AllisterOkay, before this one gets bashed to all hell, it's about the music I listen too, actually what the heck, bash away, I want to know if you hate it... And no I didn't use a dictionary to write it, that's actually the way I think, I know, I know I'm a big nerd what else is new......"