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Cold Seasons

by Stevenson Valentor

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1.
THE GRASS BED I could sleep for many years With the sun in my eyes, Ringing in my ears. Employ these sunken flowers To the unth power To rinse out that blackened gaze, And wash the regretful tones. Many days, Many days, I will lay ‘pon this grassbed As she’ll steal mine And surely scream at drops of dimes. But of course, for she’s mine. Though I try to mind my mind, I continue to wander and Fail to cease sleazy ponderings. For the pristine’s only in nature.
2.
WEDDING NOCTURNE Once more, for the blue moon, Dearest - Timeless smile Reflecting moon’s reflection Calm, beach-ridden, sand-caked Children of night Cool eyes spark With every curtain peek – Majestic burglaries from the infinite, unthinkable. Thieves, we hide underneath sweet cold stars – Right: as salmon in the sweet chilled stream. Moonlit, she was: as mystery is; Lips moist with refrigerated sun, We share stolen sweets.
3.
For Every Flower Weightlessly surveying as I'm contemplating what she was saying to me. Passion-riddled words: Reminding me of the heaviness with which I deliver insights too light. And how they cast not meaningful vibrations through and back from the cosmos. Now: back inside, 'til I can speak like she: Silently, without words. And silently sigh at the lies Thrown 'round like my affection For every flower that pops out of the ground. ...How them eyes slice, like steaming knives, through frozen ideologies.
4.
Naked Arms 06:46
NAKED ARMS Into her naked arms I’ll be when Winter Comes scaring Heat, So it comes up to us to Produce Warmth. It is the absence That promotes creation. It is our rage to retaliate, Unknowingly fine-tuning the tension, Tweaking into the balance, Seeping into the balance Between (in) extremes. Into her naked arms may be Where I have belonged – but only For a night or so… My place, I’m so worried of finding, cannot be nor stay – It exists by the ever-fleeting moment I will not and cannot sit and be comfy, for this Water body also flows – and thus to sit is nearly The same as fighting the current – as I am. Into her naked arms – They may as well be as dead as the yellow, purplish Cadavers so dissected by my classmates. It may be my place, into the naked arms of a heavy corpse – Always incomplete, Always improving; And therefore, You could have done a better job. But you can’t learn How to make it better w/o trying, and trying hard first. You have to find out how much you suck, Always - And so I let these words sit And I feverishly toss heavy blankets On my affection and impulses To more closely resemble that languid Queen I so frivolously worshipped, oh-but Never in Friver! Always growing, always incomplete. I cannot regret my place now, Nor fret for its discovery by me. My place is never grounded, My place is the same As yours: In that space Between (in) waves Between (in) words Between (in) neurons Between (in) synapses Between (in) breaths Between (in) toes Between (in) arms Our (in) arms Naked (arms) Naked In (to) In Her (in) He Naked (arms) Naked ---------------------------------------------
5.
In Broad Daylight This house is asleep While the warm air Reaps the old cold Casting shadows upon the sunshine, Making us warm without the core. The teacup steams The breeze shivers streams The heart beams, but 'tis the cold that seams. The earth faces the sun with closed eyes We face each other with bold lies This house is asleep - Are we home?
6.
Winter Walk 00:52
Winter Walk Frozen Earth, Won't you swallow and digest My burnt, crispy, fallen Tobacco leaves? Whiskey Moon, Please unfreeze My icicle-ridden, Brittle nerve endings. Silent Pines, Snag this precipitation Exploding from underneath My undulating weight, And point the way for My wandering gait. ...And I shall continue my travels - With this delightful western wind 'Gainst my spine, Stirring up forgotten tones, And frozen times. To be carried onward: Through this Winter, And to the home.
7.
Thank You 05:21

about

"Cold Seasons is a collection of pieces designed to produce warmth from within. When cold air or water meets the skin, blood rushes to the surface to heat up the body. This album is meant to develop your soul's inner heat; so that when coldness comes, we don't shy away from challenges: but rather step into challenging environments. When we are met with chilly emotional, social, or political environments, the only way out is to generate warmth from within. With our inner flames, we may welcome all adversity as an ally for positive change, within ourselves, and for the world." ~ Stevenson Valentor, 12/06/17

credits

released January 6, 2018

All works written and performed by Stevenson Valentor, except "Gnossienne no.1" (written by Erik Satie), and "In a Landscape" (written by John Cage).

Special thanks to Dan Pierson, Andrew Lawrence, Maxx McGathey, Gene Knific, Anthony Molinaro, Carl Kennedy, Jon Welder, Justin Howe, Matty Witney, and Porscha Belser for their guidance in helping me prepare this album.

Thank you, Source: for life, this planet, and the beautiful communities I've been blessed to be a part of: the Valentor family, Urban Yoga Chicago, Sat Nam Yoga Chicago, Bassel & The Supernaturals, Gramps The Vamp, everyone in Chicago.

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Stevenson Valentor Chicago, Illinois

Stevenson Valentor is an innovative drummer and pianist on the Chicago jazz and funk scenes. His affiliated groups, Bassel & The Supernaturals, Gramps The Vamp perform nationally and have several albums to their names. He leads 2 original projects, Here & Now (jazz quintet), and Cold Seasons (solo piano) which showcase Stevenson's sensitive composing abilities. ... more

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