Synthesizer

Turn on
the power,
and begin:

play the keys
twiddle the knobs,
change the filters.

Thankfully,
there are few rules,

only imagination
and sounds
never before produced,
only dreamt,

filling all that
empty
silent space,
with aural color,

and ignore the presets,
as they were made
for efficiency,
not experience.

Truly,
this synthesis of
the machine’s heart
and the creator’s soul,

working in concert,
can make
something
out of nothing,

wherein lies
the magic of art.

[This is Moskowitz' present synthesizer of choice. Photo courtesy of usnovation.com]

Ritual and Artifact

Power on
and flip some switches,
open up that envelope
and turn down
that filter.

Hear that
digital buzz and zwerp,
as I dial
the resonance up
and down.

Really listen,
hone in on the vibration,
and let my body feel it.

Groove to
the low frequency oscillator
tripping down the timbre
and let that bass
bubble and wash
over you.

Nee-wruh-ruh-op
and shee-oouhuhooo
sheeeee- wah.

My mouth mimics
the sound wave shape,
my hips swaying
naturally,
like the sagging belly
on Sadie the Cat
as she slips by
to get more food.

I am alive
and connected
via headphones
to the Everlasting Now,
to the Great O(h)m,
to the Alpha and the Omega,
to the divine itself.

This is my religious ritual.
This is my holy artifact.
This is my synthesizer.