It disguises as need

it knows when that has failed

it wants

the echo not decaying
just reverberating
I want
becoming obsession

lying to me that I need

I want

It

the hollow one needing me to consume in it’s name

forever empty
forever in me
it feeds on misery

If there is happiness it is not
if there is growth it is rot
it triggers on the absence of it

it needs it
it is the ever present drive
of want

it gets in your head
it drives false need
it leaves you hungry
when it makes you feed

consume for want

It wants to be bigger
It wants to be small
It wants the shiny things
It wants it all

it wants nothing
so it can be filled again
it is empty
so the want can begin

I want

It

to

be

silent

The post Want appeared first on Bass Bastard.

always there
a hand, a smile, a sound, to lead or follow
loved and lost
when was the last time I said I’d see you tomorrow?

I’ll see you tomorrow
Until the days are no longer numbered
the silence sucks in sound
and every time it leaves me number

a last goodbye
she was on her way to help, to give
the road was her home,
the road was the last place she lived

Always loving
a helping hand, advice, an ear
loved, lost, gone
but somehow always near

I’ll see you tomorrow
Until the days grow long and ends
I’ll see all of you
all of my shadows and friends

I’ll take pain over apathy
The scars stitching me together with love
holding together
when I don’t know what I’m capable of

When I am a shadow
and the last light that would have been me reaches the ground
Just wait until tomorrow
and your road takes you where you are bound

I’ll see you tomorrow
Once the days have passed the horizon
once more in hearts and eyes
and the tears no longer cloud your vision

The post Shadows and Friends appeared first on Bass Bastard.

The post Trash Your Masters appeared first on Bass Bastard.

Let me know if you want the source for your own entertainment.

The post Don’t do drugs kids… appeared first on Bass Bastard.

Digging through the junk drawer

finding shit I knew was lost

A bic lighter

random keys

to locks that have lost their relevance.

The noise on the peripheral persists

so I dig through another container

a t-shirt I do not recall

a sock with a skull

a 3D printed polygonal cat

But there are no spoons

Each container full but empty

and the clatter at the periphery persists

a dull roar from outside

reminding me that reality still exists

Earplug container, only one side

mints of a dubious flavor

keep digging

the hell of it all is I need to go out there

Where are the fucking spoons?

I find sufficient noise in the rectangle

no wires, just cacophony

the silverware will have to wait for later

reality awaits

two shoes

two socks

underwear and pants

torso covered by something hanging

at least I have a knife.

slip on the shades.

The post Junk Drawer appeared first on Bass Bastard.

Memory is not a shelter
it is a trap for the unprepared
a hole in the row, as cavities grow
and the rictus is mistaken for smiles

a shell of a comfortable mirror
pointed back but not pointed to self
never looking ahead to the alternate paths
just falling into the concentric patterns of death

Shatter the walls of reverie
tradition and how the things were
a trap set by the lazy unconscious
and the death rattle of growing’s last breath

Memory is for reference
Now is for life
the future is chaos blooming
Stop digging and start nurturing existence

Lose the anchors
lower the stones
breath and walk free into now
create today without false resistance

The post Looking Back Blind appeared first on Bass Bastard.

Away from the scarred and broken
mending lines and pain
A confession long unspoken
of plans too long refrained

To tell the truth to myself
would shatter me away
when I look at what is left inside
there’s nothing left to say

Hatred left a wasteland
rage a scorched path
violence was the answer
but the question’s never asked

born into all the world could teach
before the mind could grow
who is it now, what can become
something I can never know

So I pay myself a visit
Across the ashes and the flame
should I peel away another scar
I’ll never be the same

The post Last Payment appeared first on Bass Bastard.

The wind sighs by me
whispering secrets loved long
Memory in scent

Trees murmur to all
Hushing the children playing
Rustle fallen clothes

The clouds drifting through
They have witnessed it before
mourning comes too soon

The water ripples
sorrow given form
A drop remembers

The post Unstructured appeared first on Bass Bastard.

Got new hangers up at the practice pad and I will not go back to the floor rack. Saves so much space during practice. (Also a decent view of the foot controller and the foot keyboard I use for controlling effects and playing keyboard parts with my feet)

Techniques in bass are advancing every time that I practice with my band, Indogen.

Improving should be the goal of all practicing musicians… and enjoying your art.

The post At Practice with Indogen appeared first on Bass Bastard.

Lost to flow
Lost to pain
A mother returned to the energy plane

Left behind
Left in sorrow
Fear in facing the thousand tomorrows

Holding hands
Hold agony
Absent but watching over her progeny

The body is always weaker than soul
The spirit continues no matter the toll
Mind carries spirit from one to the next
And still the waves of grief will roll

Where we go is where we wait
Where we wait the light purifies
Why pain is endured corporeal
When the end is what life defies

The post Where we go appeared first on Bass Bastard.