In The Fairy Tale
In There Reversed
There In Unplayed
In Player Reversed...
He IS The BEAST!!!
For Your Sake, Darling.
*Myth Reversed.*
(Psssp... For Beauty's Sake...)
-Gray Squirrel
02-25-2026
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today. - Abraham Lincoln
Silence gathers like dust
on the piano lid—unplayed songs folded
into brittle paper wings.
The hummingbird feeder hangs empty,
sunlight glinting off dried nectar.
Each day our hands relearn
the slow syntax of stiffness.
Morning pills rattle accusations
in amber bottles. Who will read
the warning labels when our eyes retreat?
Childless. No daughters to decipher
our fading ink. No sons
to steady the wobble
of ascending stairs. Lincoln’s shadow
lengthens across the porch:
Tomorrow arrives hungry.
You cannot feed it yesterday’s excuses.
We scan horizons for villages
built of shared tremors
where neighbors become
soft euphemistic nouns—caregiver, listener, stayer~
before the light fails completely.
Sunbathing on a ship in the Med
seventy-two, I heard you, Harry;
you did not drift into my young head
but speared with sword, I could not parry.
There it has stayed, never left my soul
“can’t live if living is without you”
words, one day, I’ll play them to console;
girls let you down, mother said they do.
Yet, still now, the song remains unplayed
all that life has taken, and bestows
we have love that never seems to fade;
“Guess that’s just the way the story goes.”
Without You - Harry Nilsson
Hope, are you still out there?
As buoyant as the blue?
Plight and poison, pine to pare!
Dark fire, burn me new!
Chains a-causal, wrap us tight!
Flicker as you fly!
O Erebus, bid good night!
Light of spark, bely!
Wind atop the pinhole shade?
Machine, marmalade!
O for games as yet unplayed!
Belladonna, bade!
Torment of the tornado?
It spins unevenly.
Swiftly flies the dappled roe!
Io, lost at sea!
Rejects of line, assemble!
Serry thou thy ranks!
Sing in we, O brazen bull!
Soldiers, guard the tanks!
Salvage operation?
It helps to pay thy rent.
Sacrifice! Such songs to shun!
Queen Dido, where went?
Rage and riddle, red rook rhyme!
Roundabout and reel!
Prisoner, what is thy crime?
Show them how you heal!
Plight and passion, prickly pear?
Pyramid, receive!
Load on my back, burr to bear!
Ricochet, reprieve!
Harpy star in skies of grey?
Onward, O hounds! Bay!
Poison pill, debt to repay?
Crucible and cay...
In the depths of his soul, the gentleman keeps chords of silent harmony,
each key a secret, a universe of sounds that will not be uttered.
He carries in his heart an orchestra of dreams that need no stage,
for true art lies in the silence between the notes, in their unplayed state.
Like a magician of silence, he weaves untold stories in his gaze,
unheard chords that dance in the air like butterflies at dawn.
Each of his gestures is a silent symphony, an invisible poem,
unfolding in the depths of his being, without the need for applause.
In his silence, he hides the sea of sounds that could resonate,
but his elegance lies in the art of keeping the music just for himself.
Just as the moonlight caresses the earth without setting it ablaze,
he leads his existence, a gentleman of silence, of perfect calm.
In a world full of noise, he chooses to be the silence that speaks,
a poet of unheard sounds, an artist of the absence of noise.
And thus, his beauty is not in what he plays, but in what he withholds,
a master of the inner chord, of music that is never revealed.
Silent strings, once vibrant song,
Melodies hushed, where echoes belong.
A master's touch, forever stilled,
Rajeev Taranath's legacy is forever chilled.
Dancing fingers, now lie at rest,
Ragas unplayed, a silent test.
The wisdom passed, a lineage strong,
Yet music's heart now grieves the song.
Traditions held, a fading light,
The past is preserved, yet shrouded in night.
Improvisation's flame, a flickering spark,
Leaving a void, a lonely mark.
No more the sound, painting stories untold,
Emotions were silenced, and a heart turned cold.
The human canvas, draped in gray,
Taranath's artistry is forever at bay.
Challenges faced, a victor's crown,
His passion's fire, forever unbound.
Souls untransformed, a melody unheard,
The sarod's silence, a weighty word.
No loving caress on the waiting string,
A maestro's life, a broken wing.
The past honoured, a future unclear,
Taranath's memory was a precious tear.
Though death may claim the maestro's hand,
His music lives on, in every land.
A final note, a whispered sigh,
Rajeev Taranath, forever nigh.
Here comes the dawn
of a thoughtful Mourn.
Month of the desecrated demise
of a Monumental personage.
Unpleasant feels beclouds the air
I consume,
My structure reconciles itself
to the dreadful wake of the dawn.
Hushed his grief within,
As though He counts it less.
Burdened the hearts become.
For the weight tears apart within.
Boundary with her,
Was the sweetness of existence.
In a tick of misery
Hard to lug
Uneasy to let slip
Oh Death where’s thy sting
So fresh is the love of the parted soul
Mourning till an afterlife
In her two gems he rejoices.
As life gives succor.
Though Growth he beckons
For an extended home, before night falls.
Life’s unplayed cards
Relinquishes-daunts my being
Fathoming its depth
Again and again
Glum yet Grateful
For the Supreme One
Alone knows all and the why
We seem still within ourselves.
Three Decades plus Six
Yet I breathe
To make proud
This Monumental Personage.
What good is the wave, if sails,
It awaits no means, destination.
What good is the tide,
If it rises and falls over sights of unpleasant expectations.
What good are words,
If it's origin comes from unproposed intentions.
For even, has man never danced from unplayed strings
Nor played from strings that cannot be danced of.
What is beauty,
If the beholder views from strays?
What is love,
If well known to man, remains unknown to him?
What will it be,
If time ticks randomly to unachieved desires?
For even a time enjoyed wasted is never wasted.
How do you make bridges?
Is it not by breathing while you have the woods behind?
Does not one path open a way for another?
So why does one need his ribs to make strings
When the twines are beneath his covering?
When life hovers over to inquire of you
Be sure to give it your best
For you cannot know
If your best can be best enough.
Trapped in between the lyric
and music
Wandering in a rhythm
of lost expectation
Blaming each note still unplayed
and unwritten
The echoes distend
in a moment’s undoing
Hearing a chorus
when no choir is present
Voices imagined
to sing my sequester
Wandering aimless
through scores of abandon
Harmony denied me
—nightmarish and deafening
(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)
Vivacissimo
guitar
sitting unplayed, unlearned
beside its counterparts:
piano, saxophone, koto,
soon to be joined by a banjo
a silent quintet
untouched, unheard
why do I not put my hand to them
why do they sit in this orchestral mausoleum
is it because there is no music
within me,
no euphony bursting from inside
that must find expression
in the movements of my fingers
is it that I fear
untamed chords and notes
will come of the tumult
of my mind,
cacophonous sharps and flats
that refuse lyrical composition
and what if
the clefs line up and Aeodean
beauty and grace emerge instead,
flying from me in a frenzied vivacissimo
how much more frightening
is beauty than silence
Until the last light, I believe I shall remain,
A tune unplayed, in this dreary song.
During daylight and throughout the night,
A moment does not part from melancholy and I.
Should I leave or should I try,
I know what follows could not be felt as life.
Is there another song, one to play my tune?
I'm driven to sing, but this song is home.
If I go, I may return.
But it would know, and I would know,
That for however long or short,
I could not remain forever dumb.
Forever unknown, forever dead, forever her's.
"Wise Monkey"
I am tired
I am so so tired
Just sit for a while
See no evil
Hear no evil
Speak no evil
Shut my eyes
Listen to emptiness
Don't speak
Shhhhhhhhhhh
I am tired
I am so so tired
Just sit for a while
Watch my world
go bye
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Stone in Focus" / Aphex Twin
https://youtu.be/q86g1aop6a8
"Just Fall Asleep" / Aphex Twin
https://youtu.be/2gNtuY4VAOA
bye.
Definitition.
Bye1
- the transfer of a competitor directly to the next round of a competition in the absence of an assigned opponent.
- a run scored from a ball that passes the batsman without being hit (recorded as an extra, not credited to the individual batsman).
- one or more holes remaining unplayed after a match has been decided.
Bye 2
mid 16th century (denoting a side issue or incidental matter): from by.
Bye 3
Exclamation:
short for goodbye.
Bye 4
prefix
bye- 1. subordinate; incidental; secondary.
"by-election"
chakra shot, aura ignored
inner peace left unexplored
feelings sans a sounding board
blest I’ve left the mindless horde
friends, none that lie to me
or neighbors that like to see
a banshee wailing jamboree
self-reproach is absentee
no dogs, cats, or swimming fish
little is left demanding wish
lunch mirrors a petri dish
the future passed with reminisce
up every day at the crack of noon
to nosh on candies and macaroon
suck helium from a red balloon
entertained at the Shambles Saloon
the postman left mail today
junk and clutter some might say
bills and debts remain unpaid
life is better left unplayed
beds splayed displayed
clothes unwashed too deep to wade
dust layered is carefully laid
happiness is now homemade
the sun set that never rose
reflections must I suppose
account, compound, and then depose
neatly rowed in juxtapose
lying down at last to sleep
importuning God will keep
me whole, sweet, and replete
whimper shall not well or weep
Just like this familiar song
That was never sung in tune,
Tell me, “Where do I belong?“
Scrolling this random playlist
Unplayed in my memory,
Bringing weight on my crumped chest.
As boring as this classic melody,
Everything became stodgy--
Music stopped in tragedy.
Unremitting responsibilities
Aspirations tampered by reality
Relentless quest for more
Beautiful wife, children, home
Cars, boat, vacations, clothes
All requisite trappings
Abundance of wealth and success
Colleges, tuitions, mortgages
Debt free, substantial savings
Old age, sickness, infirmity
Dusty, unplayed
Fender Stratocaster guitar
Sub Categories
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