Seed . . .

https://www.pexels.com/search/seeds/

. . . is where the whole thing starts
(and sometimes where it ends)
A spark must first be struck
Before a flame can flash and bend,
It may come mysteriously at times,
Or the source may be readily known,
In either case it's not within my control,
And if not quickly captured, by wind will be blown . . .

. . . and maybe lost forever


Seed
(exploring some chords and rhythms on piano)



What do you think?
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http://www.rayjozwiak.com/guestbook.html  or at
http://www.ohomusic.com pianogonzology

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(To Access all Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano music you can copy-and-paste this URL directly to
your browser:  http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/RayJozwiak)


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For all things "OHO" please visit:
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More Game . . .

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/rugby-world-cup/2019/09/28/rugby-

world-cup-2019-japan-vs-ireland-live-score-latest-updates/

Nunes didn’t blush his moral compass
Doesn’t function in reality very much
Moving like a tag team in the final
Seconds he and co-conspirators made their rush

It’s just a game
When you’re preoccupied
And the flame
Of burning fear’s inside you
When you think you’ve won consider damage
That’s been done to things much bigger than you
And how it hurt everyone

Winning is your singular preoccupation coloring
Each thing that you do and you say
This to the extent that jettisoned is all you learned
Back in your grammar school and from your mother

It’s just a game
One you learned from
Those with no shame
Or principles to which you’re
Blinded by the cloud that has developed
Over you and me and thickening now and soon may end what was
So long ago hard fought and died for
Carefully considered by some brave and valiant ones

Disregarding factuality while
Fabricating spouting fallacies at our expense
Is it sheer ambition are you threatened
Do you think this is the right thing to do
And can you live with yourself
When it’s through


Game
©2019 Raymond M. Jozwiak

What do you think?
Tell me at
http://www.rayjozwiak.com/guestbook.html  or at
http://www.ohomusic.com 


Other Ray Jozwiak Offerings



(To Access all Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano music you can copy-and-paste this URL directly to
your browser:  http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/RayJozwiak)


For all things "Gonzo Piano" please visit:
Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano on CD Baby.com
The Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano Website
The Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano You Tube Channel

For all things "OHO" please visit:
The OHO CD Baby.com Website
OHO Music Website
The 'More OHO Music' You Tube Website
The 'Original' OHO Music You Tube Website

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Game . . .

https://www.nickbentley.games/abstract-strategy-games-online-guide/

Natches didn’t blush his moral compass
Doesn’t function in reality very much
Moving like a tag team in the final
Seconds he and co-conspirators made their rush

It’s just a game
When you’re preoccupied
And the flame
Of burning fear’s inside you
When you think you’ve won consider damage
That’s been done to things much bigger than you
And how it hurt everyone

Winning is your singular preoccupation coloring
Each thing that you do and you say
This to the extent that jettisoned is all you learned
Back in your grammar school and from your mother


Game
©2019 Raymond M. Jozwiak

What do you think?
Tell me at
http://www.rayjozwiak.com/guestbook.html  or at
http://www.ohomusic.com 


Other Ray Jozwiak Offerings

(To Access all Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano music you can copy-and-paste this URL directly to
your browser:  http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/RayJozwiak)


For all things "Gonzo Piano" please visit:
Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano on CD Baby.com
The Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano Website
The Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano You Tube Channel

For all things "OHO" please visit:
The OHO CD Baby.com Website
OHO Music Website
The 'More OHO Music' You Tube Website
The 'Original' OHO Music You Tube Website

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Love . . .

by William Wordsworth


All Thoughts, all Passions, all Delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal Frame,
All are but Ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Oft in my waking dreams do I
Live o'er again that happy hour,
When midway on the Mount I lay
Beside the Ruin'd Tower.

The Moonshine stealing o'er the scene
Had blended with the Lights of Eve;
And she was there, my Hope, my Joy,
My own dear Genevieve!

She lean'd against the Armed Man,
The Statue of the Armed Knight:
She stood and listen'd to my Harp
Amid the ling'ring Light.

Few Sorrows hath she of her own,
My Hope, my Joy, my Genevieve!
She loves me best, whene'er I sing
The Songs, that make her grieve.

I play'd a soft and doleful Air,
I sang an old and moving Story--
An old rude Song that fitted well
The Ruin wild and hoary.

She listen'd with a flitting Blush,
With downcast Eyes and modest Grace;
For well she knew, I could not choose
But gaze upon her Face.

I told her of the Knight, that wore
Upon his Shield a burning Brand;
And that for ten long Years he woo'd
_The Lady of the Land_.

I told her, how he pin'd: and, ah!
The low, the deep, the pleading tone,
With which I sang another's Love,
Interpreted my own.

She listen'd with a flitting Blush,
With downcast Eyes and modest Grace;
And she forgave me, that I gaz'd
Too fondly on her Face!

But when I told the cruel scorn
Which craz'd this bold and lovely Knight,
And that be cross'd the mountain woods
Nor rested day nor night;

That sometimes from the savage Den,
And sometimes from the darksome Shade,
And sometimes starting up at once
In green and sunny Glade,

There came, and look'd him in the face,
An Angel beautiful and bright;
And that he knew, it was a Fiend,
This miserable Knight!

And that, unknowing what he did,
He leapt amid a murd'rous Band,
And sav'd from Outrage worse than Death
The Lady of the Land;

And how she wept and clasp'd his knees
And how she tended him in vain--
And ever strove to expiate
The Scorn, that craz'd his Brain

And that she nurs'd him in a Cave;
And how his Madness went away
When on the yellow forest leaves
A dying Man he lay;

His dying words--but when I reach'd
That tenderest strain of all the Ditty,
My falt'ring Voice and pausing Harp
Disturb'd her Soul with Pity!

All Impulses of Soul and Sense
Had thrill'd my guileless Genevieve,
The Music, and the doleful Tale,
The rich and balmy Eve;

And Hopes, and Fears that kindle Hope,
An undistinguishable Throng!
And gentle Wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherish'd long!

She wept with pity and delight,
She blush'd with love and maiden shame;
And, like the murmur of a dream,
I heard her breathe my name.

Her Bosom heav'd--she stepp'd aside;
As conscious of my Look, she stepp'd--
Then suddenly with timorous eye
She fled to me and wept.

She half inclosed me with her arms,
She press'd me with a meek embrace;
And bending back her head look'd up,
And gaz'd upon my face.

'Twas partly Love, and partly Fear,
And partly 'twas a bashful Art
That I might rather feel than see
The Swelling of her Heart.

I calm'd her Tears; and she was calm,
And told her love with virgin Pride.
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beauteous Bride!

What do you think?
Tell me at
http://www.rayjozwiak.com/guestbook.html

My latest release, Black & White Then Back,
can be downloaded digitally at:

(or you can copy-and-paste this URL directly to
your browser:  http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/rayjozwiak3)

Also, be sure to visit:
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