How can anyone develop music that challenges the general understanding that music has to be heard by the ears?

What I noticed about this class was that I felt that the students in the class have a passion for wanting connection, and that the teacher wants to influence these patterns of communication. In order to fully grasp the curriculum of the course, I believe that the community of the students is something that is necessary in order to make connections to the world and self. I believe this course will open a way to reflect on what influences our daily thinking in order to come to a goal that satisfies our desires to learn; which indefinitely ties to the world. Observing the world at large requires any person to become more in-tune with their sensory abilities. I believe that what we are learning when it comes to recognizing and personifying sound patterns, it becomes a solid study to be more artistically inclined and want to explore our personal lifestyles while having an open mind for accepting other perspectives.

The poem bellow was written by myself on April 14, 2010 where I had a strong connection to music and literature with the ways in which it works regarding the understanding of the “self”. The “self”, in this case, defines the brains of writers who self reflect on their lives; modifying their thoughts in ways so to find stability in their lives. When writing this poem, the idea was to project how I connected these thoughts (the idea of “self”) to rhythm of pattern in writing: where we then find that music has the same sound but is silenced. It is silenced because the sound does not have to be heard in order to appreciate it, but how it works with the way that writing can bring rhythm to our minds. How are we to find any organization if our own thinking did not have its own beat? In the position I had when writing, the way to share this is to produce poetry and allow it to make sense before the viewer. So as you read this poem, think about how rhythm and pattern can be music but shaped and understood in many more complex ways. Think about the “self” of the person who shared these words; the pattern of his thoughts for expression. However it makes sense to us as the music that you can fathom.

Sounds of a Typewriter
A fragile delicacy lost to memory,
The mind’s elaborate grace to wonder.
I am the eyes kept closed,
For there is more to hear than site can paint.

A canvas of color,
A picture perfect detail of those eyes.
Absorb the image which creates your stirring thoughts.
Let opinion be your paint,
With which your brush has chosen to spread upon that board.

Detail what you see.
Show the world,
Which you view so differently.
Let them open their eyes to adore your masterpiece.

So paint me in the shape of your knowledge,
I am standing before you,
Inverse, am I?
Allow my hands to write this story,
Of a human being who chose to defy logic.

For I am living among the hidden,
Of men who sing silent lyrics rather than painting.
Let this be a riddle,
Who am I?

I am not the grace of God,
For the fallen have been shunned.
Though I am not similar to them,
I am correct to feel emotion in this body.

I am the keeper of secrets,
May I do best to speak the truth.
I am a complex of nor emotion or love.
For what has been lost took with it trust,
That can no longer bare arms to give.

I will walk before you as differently as perceived.
A mind of a whole percent more
Than what I am.
A world of critiques,
Allow me to read your poetry.

What breaks when spoken,
Is the the silence I devoted to keep the artists painting,
And the typewriters clicking.

To then count the sins,
That begin with a common letter.