EP Preview; "Tomorrow's Etude"

I have been conjuring up a musical project for the past month and would like share a track that I am really excited about. 

Spoken word poetry has been ingrained into my mode of expression ever since I was a child. First it was classical Russian poetry, then a heavy dose of 2000's American rap music, then underground Russian all through college, and most recently I have been heavily influence by modernist American/British poets and specifically how adroitly they spout free verse, much like the loose yet premeditated nature of a Pollock painting. 

I decided to give my poetry form and set my words upon the tracks of fantastically produced beats made by some Russian beatmakers and producers. 

This is the first track of a multi-track EP that I will be releasing later this month. Mind that this is the most experimental of the bunch. If you can roll with this, you will love what is to come. 

I introduce to you, Glass Hamlet's "Tomorrow's Etude". 

Brief words to NYC, Bowery Poetry Club

I’m running away again.
At least it feels when I’m saying it
but that single true rhythm sways
in a way that’s more stable
than the frustrated chaos
I’m hanging with -
that’s
Projected on brick walls
Lowering me past
East Side halls,
past 5th st. lofts,
past fixed gear lifestyles
and fear fixed futures.

New York’s been that sand
that’s trickles down at its leisure;
But when the hourglass breaks
it forms a rockless foundation
that looks a lot like a beach,
with sunshine for good measure.
But the principle of pleasure states
the id should be questioned.

And maybe I’m young
listening to my dreams.
Or maybe I’m Jung
collecting unconscious things
that serve to raise a resume
to something more beautiful
that can’t be razed nor
destroyed like
8-story
Savars
in Bangladesh.
-And then as fresh
as dew drops and morning breaths
my I wakes up
and to questions
placed in stanzas up
answers,
But this time it’s me who advances
with a time and a place;
i look down at my ticket -
my race leaves at 8.
Don’t know when I’ll get back yet
and sure leaving is great,
but I just hope I’m right and
my me
might with spirit
have their embrace.
— P. Kalachev