Song picture
"red milk" Liz Gridley
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Pop rock ensemble, female vocal trio.
jazz classical instrumental vocal opera orchestra chamber ballet
Artist picture
Composer for large-scale performance work, ballet and opera. Have written music for classical theatrical productions of Shakespeare, ("The Tempest," "The Twelft
Loren Lieberman is a native of Denver, Colorado, now living on the West Coast in California, where he is best known for his work as an actor in Classical and Shakespearean Theatre. He has a degree from Sonoma State University in Theatre Arts, and has been an Honor's Music Composition Student at the College of Marin, Santa Rosa Junior College, and at Sonoma State University. He has won an award for composition from the Redwood Empire Music Association. He has recently completed an opera in Russian, based on the novel by Alexander Solzhenitsyn, "Cancer Ward", (and of the same name), and is currently working on his fourth opera, based on the Classical Tragedy by Sophocles, "Oedipus the King," with a libretto in Ancient Greek. His interest in languages has shaped much of his artistic temperment, and he is self taught in Russian and Sanskrit, and has hopes to begin his next opera, Shakespeare's, "Romeo and Juliet," in Hindi.
Song Info
Genre
Pop Pop Rock
Charts
#7,192 today Peak #242
#1,463 in subgenre Peak #46
Author
Liz Gridley/Masaru Yonemitsu
Rights
adhikapokoya 2011
Uploaded
February 08, 2011
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.3 MB 128 kbps 3:35
Story behind the song
I asked Liz which of her poems she felt would be the hardest to write music to, or to turn into a song. She showed me this poem.
Lyrics
red milk beneath tree tickled summer skies, a lonely squirrel shadow bounces black grasping a dreary rain clouds' sloping gray horizon toward the West. Westward Squirrel-following heated atmospheric bursts- following the sizzling firework crack of the flowers' blossoming discharge of transparent yellow, orange, & pink earthborn tapestries. (When in season, you love how their fornicating spores smear nasal.) Westward Squirrel-you sit- & see how chilly breezes gust smoke of exhaled green grasslings from beneath a magnolia's bosom of milk creamed petals; slowly rising with perfume, spinning, twisting through the branches, moving through you like a huff, then it's gone. you wish you could follow-where it's destined to collide with breath from the ocean's misty roar. Westward Squirrel- beware- diving, slipping behind that moist tongue leads to where vulgar monotone choirs spit rank unsound unto a submerged audience. A place where red red hearts swell faster faster under pressure pressure Diving Squirrel- however lonely- you don't care. seclusion has left you thirsty for the quench of her drips dropped. her every dripping, living d r o p
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