[I was stuck in a room called my self, watching my blank screen and my finger won't dance when they play jazz loudly. the trumpet was nice entering my ear and then I'm forgetting my coffee which getting cold and freeze as the black shadow of the night in front of my blank sky.
The rain crossed in a shelter which called crossing the time
when the bass dancing with own ego but inside the rhythm
without sadness or happiness described, beating in rhyme but not heave
Slowly the minor tone knocking without any nervous, closed and flow
The rainfall , a cup of coffee is like an addict thing in the middle of the eyes
They were silent, flat without any sound and the finger was dance above the old piano but melodious
The soul was filled a deep calmness in the deep ocean without a wave
and time is kept running, slowly but real
Like a thunder of expression which shown a bitter reality
a noise or heavy river flow of a face which painted and then gone
Once again they were die without ego in enjoying life
not at all questioning about life or love like used to be
Blue atmosphere become a rainbow without dew inside
Like a water they flow from the high to the land
even they must fight with the erosion and eruption
yes indeed they moving forward following the instinct
Today I must bring a brush with the white ink
fighting with the dark night to raises a tone
minor tone or major not a problem between me and them
just a courage inside the inspiration and dream
without fear and consequences without ask mark
stepping with a nude feet
hearing with heart
Talking above the reality without ego
or feel life once again without asking life or love
and it become a rotation
more and more.....
The Rain, Coffee and Jazz
and I love ....
[The Bass string made me awake from my dream and forgetting tomorrow. the dancing finger above the piano was totally killing me a minutes a head it bring my mind to the second I was standing now, flying without any carrying on my back, its felt like been flushed into recycle bin. while my finger still freeze watching the rain from the distance. I know it won't come today, just a black sky and many blank spot which put me inside the prison of music played and then I called it syncopation and my finger start to dance following the guitars.]
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