Tag Archives: Wiammoh

Ubvioun

Sounds as straight as an arrow…

Ubvioun

In F minor.

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Sounds as straight as an arrow

True to only to the self

Pressing on its habit

Its meanings blends with days.

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Edward Pamphilon (1646-1700) was an English luthier and,  with Thomas Urquhart, they formed the London School.

Musicpainting compositions. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

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Discover the fire within the sound

Catching you while minding drunk

Experience the beauty of its characteristic light

lute’s a sweet voice and alluring sound.

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“I am here” the author proclaimed,

“Still alive and looking well,

the ink has cracked

yet, you could still hear me well”.

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Out of the darkness, light’s desire was to be born.

Ideologies and losing money don’t mix.

Refection from the Mediterranean.

Aneautto

Discover the fire within the sound…

Aneautto.

In F-sharp major.

Discover the fire within the sound

Catching you while minding drunk

Experience the beauty of its characteristic light

lute’s sweet voice and alluring sound.

Musicpainting compositions. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

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“I am here” the author proclaimed,

“Still alive and looking well,

the ink has cracked

yet, you could still hear me well”.

.

Out of the darkness, light’s desire was to be born.

Ideologies and losing money don’t mix.

Refection from the Mediterranean.

Wiamoh

In a neat and orderly fashion…

Wiamoh.

In E minor.

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In a neat and orderly fashion

There are many and too hard to state

Covering every page corner

In unison they state.

Nothing to inquire or overheard

Strolling eyes reads the telling’s edge

Make of it what they indicate

Their take-ins of the moment stay

Yet we’re bonded and doomed to this page.

Only one word that’s all I can say.

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John William Owen (1883-1933) was a British luthier whose talent was across the board, covering the making of bows, violins, violas, violoncellos, and double-basses.

William Meredith Morris

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Musicpainting compositions. Acrylic Paint on Infusberry Paper, 240 x 333mm.

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Time is no leisure

To write what’s inside

It is slippery, subsiding, and demanding, it’s the end result.

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The silence that one knows, silence 

who speaks, who knows?

write high, write low, then you will know.

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Out of the darkness, light’s desire was to be born.

Ideologies and losing money don’t mix.

Refection from the Mediterranean.