Happenings

Rust & Weeds

bassobese — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 21:28:44 GMT

I. The only solace in my isolation. I rewrite the books bitter ending For no one else is listening. I tell myself. That you are nothing special. You are nothing to cry over. You a branded reminder of my foolishness still burning hot in my eyes. You a waking rewinder of all I despise within myself. Of all I disguised within my wealth Of affection for you. All I wanted was you. You was all I wanted but You was wanted by all. And you, you wanted it all. You chose: lust and greed to trust and feed you. Hungry for what love you could see through That impenetrable pain where rust and weeds grew. Where did I put it? Oh love, love return! Burn down these shrubs. When, love, will you learn?

Time

bassobese — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 01:51:25 GMT

You said for all of time. So Whod you fuck this time? You know your second chance was last time. I don't have time for past times. How many times will it take for you to see your time is better spent with me? Every time I take you back, you let me know the time is right to leave. Time is blind. It finds every one at last. Its time. To dine. On the last dying love I had. Too many times I've cried. And had to hide my eyes. This time I tried. But I had to say goodbye. I'm not doing time for your stupid crime. I'm thinking its due time for me to speak my mind. Cuz last time it took time to know the time was right. Just like the first time, I pushed the bad times from sight. Cuz at times I look at you just blinded by your light. And my sundial heart thinks it is day when it is night. Time. Goes. By. So slowly all alone. How many times I've thought of you. And want to come back home. But time. Molds. Lives. And I know your not the same. Every time I think of you I think of how times have changed.

"There will come a day when music and its philosophy will become the religion of humanity."

bassobese — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 07:46:05 GMT

"Speaking of the harmony of music, I should like to say that the true harmony of music comes from the harmony of the soul. That music alone can be called real which comes from the harmony of the soul, its true source, and then it comes from there it must appeal to all souls. Every soul differs in its choice in life, in its choice of the path it should follow. This is owing to the difference of the minds, for souls in their essence, do not differ. Therefore, whatever means be chosen to bring the different minds of people together, there cannot be a better means of harmonizing them than music. It would be no exaggeration if I said that music alone can be the means by which the souls of races, nations and families, which are today so apart, may one day be united. The musician's lesson in life is therefore a great one. Music is not expressed through language, but through beauty of rhythm and tone which reach far beyond language. The more the musician is conscious of his mission in life, the greater the service he can render to humanity. As to the law of music which exists in different nations, there are of course different methods, but in the conception of beauty there is no difference. The differences come when the music is man-made; there is no difference in the soul-made music. Suppose a man comes from the far East, the extreme North, South, or West; wherever he sees the beauty of nature he cannot help admiring and loving it. So it is with the music lover. From whatever country he comes, and whatever music he hears, if the music has a soul, and if he seeks for the soul in music, he will appreciate and admire all music. Furthermore, music has a mission not only with the multitudes, but with individuals. And its mission with the individual is as necessary and great as its mission with the multitude. All the trouble in the world and all the disastrous results arising out of it - all come from a lack of harmony. This shows that the world today needs harmony more than ever before. So if the musician understands this, his customer will be the whole world. When a person learns music, he need not necessarily learn to be a musician, or to become a source of pleasure and joy to his fellow-men. No! By playing, loving and hearing music he should develop music in his personality. The true use of music is to become musical in one's thoughts, words and actions. One should be able to give the harmony for which the soul yearns and longs every moment. All the tragedy in the world, in the individual and in the multitude, comes from lack of harmony, and harmony is best given by producing it in one's own life. There are different kinds of music, each kind appealing to certain souls according to their evolution. For instance, children in the street are very pleased when beating the time, because that rhythm has a certain effect upon them. But as a person evolves, so he longs for a finer harmony. Why people like or dislike each other is owing to their different stages of evolution. For instance, one person is at a stage where he appreciates a certain kind of music, another one, whose evolution is greater, wants music appropriate to his evolution. It is the same in religion. Some stick to certain beliefs and do not wish to evolve beyond. So it is possible that the lover of music may be tempted to keep to a certain sort of music and will not rise further. The true way of progressing through music is to evolve freely, to go forward, not caring what others think, and in this way, together with one's development in music, to harmonize the life of one's soul, one's surroundings and one's affairs. During my travels throughout the world I have heard the music of many different places, and I have always felt that intimate friendship and brotherhood existing in music; I have always had a great respect for music and for the devotee of music. There is one thing I believe and of which I have been convinced time after time in India when meeting those who have touched some perfection in music: that one can feel the harmony which is the real test of perfection not only in their music, but in their lives. If this principle of music were followed, there would be no need for an external religion. Some day music will be the means of expressing universal religion. Time is wanted for this, but there will come a day when music and its philosophy will become the religion of humanity." -from The Mysticism of Sound & Music by Sufi teacher, Hazrat Inayat Khan

Born As Glue

bassobese — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 01:25:02 GMT

Born with a purpose. Born as glue. Born to be strong. Born to hold two Crumbling statues together. Born as cement. Born to dry. Born to keep Dying love alive. Born as a last chance, As a reason to try harder. Born as an excuse. Born to be martyred. Born as a weight to Balance the scale. But I am just a baby. And death a beached whale. Born with a burden Heavier than I. Born to fail. Burning to cry. But I am that pain. I am that crumbling. I am that last stand. And I am that failed savior. That savored failure. That glue.

Shadow Dance

bassobese — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 16:50:24 GMT

Sun rise. My shadows running thin the other way. Sun dies. My shadows becoming dim. Another day. Another night. Another play. Another fight. I'm feeling tired. Searching for that wispy ghost among the grass. Until the light bleaches my bones. Cracked lips kiss an empty flask. I'm feeling fire. In the pit of an empty cave. Just enough light and dark For my shadow to be saved. I'm feeling dryer. Than I've ever felt before. Dancing with my shadow in a cave. On the floor. On the walls. In a war. In a pause. I watch the last glowing embers fade. And embrace my shadow that I made. Alone I grow. My shadow shrinks. "Home sweet home", my shadow thinks.

Computer Space Sauce

bassobese — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 07:08:41 GMT

Hey friends! It's xjordanary here with some free fresh new jams for your eager ears! I feel it's high time to quit being such a perfectionist hoarder of the music I create, and give as much back to all my beautiful friends and family as I can. This is the culmination of the last few creative months in one 34 minute mix of all original tunes composed by yours truly. I hope you all enjoy, and have a hot n sunny fun summer! Mucho Amor, xjordanary aka Bassobese Click here to check out Bassobese-Computer Space Sauce: http://www.bassobese.dj/index.php?&page=beats

Till I hit the concrete.

bassobese — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 21:08:18 GMT

I need this attraction. I need this distraction. I need this destruction. I need this disfunction. I need this distrust and I need this bad taste on The back of my tongue and I need your woman. I like the feeling I get when stealing. I like just stalling When I'm freefalling. I want the freedom. I want the fruit and I want the trees and I want the roots and I want it all. Till I hit the wall. And I want to fall. Till I hit the concrete.

Make Me Big.

bassobese — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 23:06:41 GMT

Make me big. Your making a big mistake but make me big. Make me big. The little things can wait just make me big. Make me big. And crawl inside my ear and whisper what you think I want to hear. Make me big. And I'll try not to step on you. But accidents do happen when you kiss my shoe. Make me big. So I can rampage through the streets. Put on my Godzilla feet and practice for the next trackmeet Make me big. So big that I just explode. So big that I bust my load and stars are born. Make me big. Bring me fruit and sacrifice. And I will watch your back in the afterlife. Make me big. Sell my soul and first born child. Sell it all like girls gone wild. Make me big. And I will put on quite the show. And you can go tell all your friends you made me so Big.

Familiar Face

bassobese — Tue, 27 May 2008 23:02:18 GMT

the way you smile, the way you smell. your face don't look the same to me, but I remember how this felt. The time I ran home cryin rain. You have to be that marble that I lost that day. You have to be that part of me that walked away. The way I froze. The way you melt me down and thaw me out. So this is what it's all about. Forgot myself to find you now. Familiar face you haunt my heart. You are a distant memory when we were stars. You are a fragment left by me found in the dark. You are my sweet Persephone, so hold me in your arms.