now playing @RADIO KLEBNIKOV ONLINE:
“AJAM ARIA for two voices, Roland HP503, dv and NKdeE ITL” by NKdeE
duration: 38:52 looped
voices: Adriána Kóbor and Dirk Vekemans
text, concept and audio: Dirk Vekemans
the generative process allowing for the music was prepared and inited by Dirk Vekemans as Author of the Neue Kathedrale des erotischen Elends on the 11th of September 2021.
dearest lady of the winds and breeze,
i was reading today about how people have emotional responses to characters, objects, events etc. which they know to be fictions.
but in order for us to be emotionally moved, it seems we must believe that these characters, objects, or events, truly exist.
however, no person who takes characters or events to be fictional at the same time believes that they are real.
so i guess people don’t like the fiction they call reality. people don’t like what they believe in. people don’t like what they are doing. people don’t like themselves.
but, my dearest breath of the oceans, I do like myself and what i am doing. i like what i believe in. i like all fictions, but i adore yours particularly and more than all others.
and i relish in it as in a multifoliated nanoflex skin adorned with onyx, chalcedony, pearl and ruby.
i glide in and out of it as in honey.
i salmon your river.
i sprout from your fountain.
your sentence is comely and cruel in its tempting.
your verdict is as fair as it is final.
your word is a flock of kroepoek upon my tongue.
your letters resonate with the cry of creation.
the opera of your voice surround me like the music of the spheres surround a dolmen sigh.
the works of your breath are the drone of the earth rapped in a snowball delight.
the sight of your skin is a Tirzian torture.
the abyss of your eyes is a bliss without end.
but i have passed the queens of no count and the maidens without number.
and i know myself to be a fiery sea in the spark of your soul.
and i have spread my darkness and laid down the carpets of colour for your light to thread upon.
for your fiction is the truest of lies and the sweetest of sorrows and yours is forever the moment i speak.
yours is the moment, the one that i like.
and i am as meek as a lamb within you.
and love is flowing from me on the way of your own.
and i carry this moment in every count that i make.
i cherish its wings in my hands each time that it passes.
i catch hold of its flight when it fleets and i dive in its fathomless night..
but they don’t. well, what a shame. they must feel pretty shitty most of the time.
serving the air for the flame and the lightning.