Life with Music

Around the World in Nice, France


January 2012

It Would Be Nice

This is my band Dabbles in Bloom. On most songs I play drums but in this video I’ve switched places with Adriel, who wrote this song (and most of our songs). I had a thought today that it’d be a good idea to post music on this blog in addition to poetry.
Enjoy! (and let me know what you think!)

Adriel wrote “It Would Be Nice” while he was studying abroad in Nepal last year.
More Dabbles in Bloom at



He likes you
He listens to you
He loves you
He doesn’t believe in believing
He believes you
He wants you
You think about the same things
That he does

Head spinning tales
Well worded nets ensnare
The body, the planet, yet
Each day another revolution
Of symbols, of people
Running out of definitions

Who occupies your life
Who lives in your mind
That is what isn’t This is what is really
There is where you should be?
How I lost his last letter
Is how I came to be here
Being nothing
Is being

Water Ways

Scanning the seaside,
Duck butts turned up
Sunny eyes on moon-stalks, watching
Dusk from the tree tops. Outta class
And pot, singing glass
Thoughts, unraveling
The lost, descending stairs
To nowhere, tearing brick
From stone, sticks from
Bones; old ideas tossed to the dogs
Sketching dancers fetching spandex
Panthers, thick sinew
Soft antlers, butting heads
In feather beds, chasing laughs
In rickety rafts, reading charts and
Photographs, after beating hearts
and games of cards the dreamers
Rest their weary guard…

Followed stars to shores afar
Boarded dolphins, rail cars
Jumped ships and stole fat chances
Landed in jails, bars, fleeting trances
with maidens and sailors, often
Flirting with danger, retreating with caution
Bathed in delirious experiments
Exquisitely soaked in experience.
A timely exit, they took a bow
Yanked the helm and turned around.

Sounds of sea gulls, whale spouts
Of sighing winds in wispy bouts
Pushing, pulsing the ocean fleece
Rocks the boat alive, asleep
Humming, scooting nearer now
Singing clear sweet praise of how
Adventure fast became an art;
Common warmth for common hearts.
Lingering, a living gaze
Ripening, growing brave

When sudden vicious gnashing waves
Roused the vessel with a shout:
“You’re trapped in a storm
And you’ll never get out!”
Roared “Commodore Commotion,”
Great spirit of the ocean,
And the spirit raised yet greater waves
of unreasonable proportion
And they fell. Crashing
As they landed, fizzling
Into beasts splashing, shrinking
Spray drizzling, drops
Dissolving, chiseled
Into thin, glistening sand crystals…

Lifting his spine to the heavens
Shaking loose tired stars
That peppered their faces,
New from slumber. Hearing
Her name in the water
Sipping the sea.

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