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Tel Aviv

by Olivia Moore

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about

Commissioned by Manchester based poet Steve Bewick.

lyrics

Tel Aviv- By Steve Bewick

"From a giant cushion of cloud I descend,
into evening sun-setting on the Middle East.
Blue into grey, into orange, into white
and finally falling back into blue.
Ground comes up to greet us as we seem to pass through tall bushy trees,
… into what?

Had someone thrown jewels on a desert floor? Some gold, some silver, and some white
against a back cloth of dark black and blue desert.
There are no jewels in the sand.
The streets of London never have been paved in gold.
Fools gold. No less.

But are there ants upon this desert floor now,
moving precious jewels around from north to south, from east to west?
Small triangles of lines long lines and sometimes short, interconnecting triangles.
ribbons of lines seeking new lines but never finding them.

Bright lights pull small cars.
Small cars follow small cars that in turn follow more lights
pulling small cars.

Houses seem to rise breaking out through desert floor.
Houses climb upon houses seeking better view for small ants while looking through windows
of houses upon houses upon houses upon houses
gathered in clusters to keep away smaller houses. Instead, small houses sprawl out like fingers
to find more small houses,
common houses to join as one
co-operation of houses.

Flashes of brown, thrusts of green, clusters and patches of grey join black.
Long lines of division
of those who should go one way and of those who must go another,
contrary-wise.

No longer ants moving on the jeweled floor but people, seen to be searching for jewels.

Taxi ´to the hotel´
Disappointed drivers look on before seeking solace in new passengers
for their cars of white, or black or red.

Dodging between tall houses competing for space on black grey surfaces following white lines, Lights compete with lights upon the thoroughfare, while drawing people away from their intended route.

We glide on, my driver and I
to my house upon a house upon a house, onward, upwards to the grey sky.

The air is warm.
Food smells appetizing
and quenching liquid slides down to slake my thirst."

credits

released January 7, 2021
Steve Bewick, Jazz Broadcaster & author.
Olivia Moore, Violinist, composer
Rupert Christie, Programming/beats on 1st mix.
John Ellis, Sound engineer in final mix.

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about

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Olivia Moore London, UK

A UK based violinist making original music. Olivia fuses Indian Music with Jazz, also bringing in inspiration from Classical Music and Folk.

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