Connecting Computer To Walky Talky

THE LORD AND THE CHANGING


and secure the sea as it sets the melancholy
how to fix a naked woman
as we talk with words and subtle
mute all ' love love
fix the horizon where the border is a blink of an eye

as fixing the past and the flight of the seagull


back from the past to despise my sails and the waves imaginary


fix the memory is fixed as a love for a thousand years
that won her roses
and his body glows with moonlight
as the hills of these sites infinity
generations of men who have shaped
use blessed by the work of children
peasant souls, hawks, pheasants and starlings
cryptic wind, cold and snow
ancient prayers
to throw away the winter and then spring and finished
love found and love the
music
the empty beach where they are landed immigrants

where people are stopped

all peoples who love to suck
life and my eyes always too shiny
but you can look
quench
know you know know when they fall in love
hatch

Hernia Umbilical & Surgery & Bloated

... and again in the autumn

I remember the smell of sunflowers

the end of summer
and the light that bleaches
and turned to September.
I remember the voices of thought
submissive to his arrival
like water to the shape of the surroundings.
It is a wind
a kiss
like a breath of infinity.
I remember the leaves no longer green
and their return
to kiss the ground.
Like a star
from heaven
to her skin
to my lips.
And her lips parted

soft red.
In the belly
the sands of the desert oasis

rains
snow
and plateaus of the east.
From my endless hills
ocean completely
a flight
a step
a kiss still
I remember.

Mice Eat Through Plastic Containers

The Great Gig in the Sky


Five days ago he left the Pink Floyd's most elusive and perhaps underestimated Richard Wright. Listening endlessly to the music of these people I grew up, I have, so to speak, learned to play something other than school. I learned (if you can learn) to love music that is now engraved in my DNA, branded on my skin, flowing in my blood. Pink Floyd I have opened the doors of the rock and, from there, I walked in its various rooms. I love Pink Floyd again, as then. And, after news of his passing, I felt a bit lacking for 'a small part of who I am. Then, today, I have replayed and I saw the video I put up here. That part of me still is, is alive and fight with me. And Wright, perhaps the Floyd I love the most because of her attitude, in fact, shy, as if to drown himself from his keyboards to avoid being seen there. And 'there. In the spin. In that wall sound on which Gilmour painted graffiti as his solos, powerful with three notes. In his body and his plan is always hovering between jazz, sgangheratezza, psychedelia and perfection. The sound of Pink Floyd is, in large part, the sound of Wright. I've always said. Try to imagine without his voice Echoes, Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here without its keyboard is impossible.
Greetings.