A Fragile Star

Words and music Peri Urban. Performance Reid Baer. NewWarriorMan.

OK, what happened here?
This is a new thing for me.
Everybody came over to my place
Uninvited for a jamboree.

Is this the power of poetry?
Or of a disaffected minority?
Or the cutting edge of community?
Presently, it's all a mystery.

Or was it the power of the word?
The way it was said?
Or the way it was heard?
Did it resonate like a bell made of light inside your head?

The morning sky holds a fragile star.
Maybe it was the music,
The singing strings of a new and extraordinary guitar,
With no place for pitch to settle,
You know, those little transverse rods made of metal.

Frets, you call them.
Zones of music, stoppers,
The places where your fingers naturally descend.
Applying lateral pressure
So the note will bend
Like blood filling a brass bowl
The moment to transcend.

You know, I think between us we set words free.
Flowing and cascading but always under some kind of control.
The meaning and the significance and the act of communication
Being the part that disappears into a black hole,
From which radiation
Pours unexpectedly.
What should be consumed and forgotten
Is broken in two by its passage to another realm,
An unknowable place,
Where an invisible face
Owns the hands that grip the helm.

O yeah, we can set everything free -
Words, rhythm, pitch, key,
Meter, ideology,
Compassion, hate, love and technology.
We can make the kind of soup the gods themselves would sip
As they tarry behind the curtain,
Watching the fabric of reality rip.

You can taste freedom,
But it doesn't always sustain your mind.
Sometimes your heart needs more,
You know, when there is something you struggle to find
In the debris,
Without ever knowing
What you're looking for.

Freedom doesn't evaporate when you turn your back.
What's behind you isn't just all black emptiness,
Devoid of life.
You leave a wake of possibility,
Churning up the ocean of dreams,
Making waves until it seems,
In that final moment before sleep returns
It is freedom itself that burns,
Independence that weighs us down
As if on our own we drown.

And it seems to me
That what we really seek
Is to be meek
Within the surrender of gentle and loving slavery.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• periurban
• fragile
• star
• reid
• baer
• newwarriorman
• poetry

[bukovac1]

This vid made me sOOoOoOo wet LOL

my vagina is SO sore right now!! lol my bf just got done f*cking me! Vt

[periurban]

Glad to be of service.

[RaIphLauren]

some of the things u say make absolutely no sense, at times ur just saying random words

one star

[periurban]

Happy to explain the meaning if you give me an example.

[brignoni68]

Hey Reid! Sounds like at the beginning of this poem, Peri is talking about You Tube. Do you know if that's the case?

[periurban]

Hi. I was actually talking about the last vid me and Reid made, where a party (jamboree) broke out in the comments section. The video went crazy, but yeah YT is a kinda party too!

[CBarker1995]

look at that mole

[jenny0285]

very thought provoking.. and great performance!!

had our attention for the whole 4 minutes! x

[rick2k]

Close your eyes! He sounds like bill hicks!

[ReliableInsider]

Braz,

Did you read what NWM says in the earlier comments? Reid makes *himself* look bad.

[ReliableInsider]

UNbelievable.

[ReliableInsider]

Reid,

Virtual communication doesn't mean that everyone is lying. It means we're using computers.

The same rules apply online as offline.

Driving people away tends to drive people away, just as it does offline.

[ReliableInsider]

Braz,

Explain to Reid why trying to turn Clay against me, precisely at the moment when I'm trying to give Clay a hand, doesn't do anything except make Reid look bad.

[divalolo]

Yet another jamboree!! This is what happens when you invite NWM and his tribe. At least they pick up after themselves ... :)