Avant Garde Experimental Music

The Night of the Blackbird


While I listen to the voice
of the blackbird
I look at your face
wondering
why why why
it's impossible to change past

I think of a thousand things
no clear thought
stands out
from the crowd
that stirs stirs stirs
in my mind
screaming words
that cover each others

everything could be so simple
like the games of childs
but you
have made me grave
of your dreams
and mines

we are dead and alive
under layers of time
turned into stones
over our heads

while I listen to the voice
of the blackbird
singing singing singing
to the night
to the stars
that are still what they are
inertia over inertia
like our life
 
The Silence - The Denial of Symbols

The Silence - Voice and Music by Marcus Nalgaber - Text by Mora Amaro la Loba


Silence made friends with night
hugging her like a brooch
to a piece of cloth

He counted the stars
that shined on her neckline
and gently
one by one
he concealed their glitter
between the branches of the forest

Silence made friends with night
holding her tight
like the spring to the wharf

He pulled on the thread
of her black dress
and sweetly
little by little
he began to unravel the cloth
that hid her senses

Silence mastered Night
wrapping himself in her
like a sword in its sheath

He collected irises
that swam in the rivers
and anxiously
little by little
he poured their scent
over the sweat of her forehead

Regards,

Marcus & Mora
 
What is a woman?


Do you know what a woman is?
She is the ground for all feet
and after
she is the mother, the daughter, the sister, the aunt, the cousin, the friend, the neighbor

The the the the the the the

She moves the world
in the dark
because
she was raped, killed,
sacrificed, hit, abused, hidden, forgotten

The the the the the the the
 
As in the convents


I look inside of me
there is only silence
as in the convents

I walk corridors
corridors corridors
where the memories
walk in line

I go counting doors
one two and open three
a naked woman prays
before a cradle

dark tears
paint her cheeks
white wings
hang from a chair
while her crying
becomes sea
under his knees

She looks at me
and I look at her
she has my face
and I hers

I look inside of me
mirror shards
they rain from the roof
everything is done

and I start again
to remake the glass
of my reflection
for when I look in my inside
 
An Afternoon of Summer - A Night in the Sea - A Magic and Mysterious Site

An Afternoon of Summer

A Night in the Sea

A Magic and Mysterious Site

Regards,

Marcus
 
Llueve - It rains


It rains

It rains in the night of my soul
while the hours walk
lost in the distance

It rains
It rains in my eyes and on my face
a water of salt and almonds
that turns me into nostalgia.

and under that rain,
the shadows
they are no longer shadows,
but wells filled
with the echoes of my childhood.

It's raining.
It rains in the light of my life,
over the tree of my dreams,
and in the kisses that I gave.

it rains life,
it rains tears,
it rains seas of words
that are nothing in today


©Mora Amaro La Loba
 
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