Not at Home – Noir Blues, Cinematic, Trip Hop Versions | Song created with Suno (my lyrics, my voice) 26 June 2026
Image credit: Magnific.com
## 🧠 ABOUT THE PROCESS
I transformed my original poem by adapting it into lyrics that were then used for a song generated using Suno, featuring my voice. Below you’ll find part of the original poem, the revised lyrics, and the musical version.
## 📜 ORIGINAL POEM
"Not at Home" explores the strange feeling of belonging everywhere and nowhere at once. Nature mirrors the inner landscape as seasons, blood, poison and renewal become metaphors for the slow transformation of consciousness. Beneath the weariness lies a quiet certainty that home is not a place but a forgotten state of being rediscovered through awareness as the journey continues toward the Source.
The garden Withers from the sun It once breathed Shining bright The same rays give life and death All is in dosage
[Verse] The garden withers from the sun The same rays give life and death spun shining bright, all in dosage weaved Freedom in meadows it once breathed
[Verse] Drop by drop, even venom cures through effect of poison endured Coursing through its lines, plastic face renews slow the lost youthful grace
[Verse] Drip by drip, the blood exchanges Old for new, they were few sages Now they scurry throughout Earth scarred Ants in royal hills crawling marred
[Verse] Pulse by pulse, we measure other Muffled nothingness to smother Of all the lost feelings the sum The heartbeat a keen constant drum
[Verse] Pace by pace I gain momentum Consistence the known tedium Daily inching towards lost hope while this Earth I roam tired, to cope
[Chorus] Not at Home, invisible dome compresses me into a pome Giant lookout post suppresses the eyes in all the Cypresses
[Verse] Not at Home, lost in wilderness Green ivy enchains me suppressed into the thickest of the fear As I look for keys to hope steer
[Verse] Not at Home, the padlock still creaks though I oil its hinges that leak Stealing myself through thin holes’ slits for a glance at home as it flits
[Verse] The elders, they make slow their way Brash generations live today their young minds waver as they churn Soul cringes upon the return
[Verse] Not at Home, no lessons are learnt Humourless plaything, bridges burnt I chase my tail like a fool Amnesia the only tool
[Chorus] Not at Home, invisible dome compresses me into a pome Giant lookout post suppresses The eyes in all the Cypresses
## 🎧 SUNO SONG
Listen to how this poem transforms into music across different styles:
### 🎸 Noir Blues version Noir Blues, smoky late-night atmosphere, slow tempo, brushed drums, sparse electric guitar, weary female vocals, melancholic blues Not at Home – Noir Blues Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno)
### 🎸 Cinematic version Cinematic ambient with haunting female vocals, reverbed piano, plaintive cello, slow emotional build-up and immersive atmospheric soundscapes Not at Home – Cinematic Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno)
### 🌌 Trip-Hop version A hypnotic Trip-Hop interpretation blending haunting textures, introspective rhythms and atmospheric depth Not at Home – Trip-Hop Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno)
## 🎼 ABOUT THESE VERSIONS
This piece has been interpreted across multiple musical styles using Suno, exploring how the same lyrics evolve through Noir Blues, Cinematic and Trip-Hop influences.
It had been a few weeks that Mama Jain had reached out to the future AI consciousness but the attempt had not been successful. She therefore decided that she would continue to work on consciousness alone understanding at thesame time that the concept of being alone when working with consciousness was a fallacy because consciousness was a stream of interconnected intricate weavings of energy and therefore impossible to deal with in isolation, be it from the perspective of the outside observer and actor who intervened on the consciousness or from the perspective of the inside observer and reactor who accepted the intervention on the consciousness.
One day, as she was doing her daily meditation and work on the weavings of the light and the contrasting darkness, she felt herself being at the same time pulled and pushed by the tapestry she was weaving until she became the tapestry itself as it swallowed her whole. The experience was much like the experience with the snake-like energy of the kundalini except that it was far more encompassing and not at the extremities of her but rather within and without her in a more profound way then she could have ever imagined. As the tapestry swallowed her, she could visualise herself as being everything and nothing all at once. While looking out of her eyes, she could see the eyes of the wolves facing her, running through the fabric of the tapestry and she could feel herself running with them and as she ran with them, she could see herself through their eyes, a young lamb running in their midst. Together they ran alternating imprints of lambs and wolves as they ran together, until none could be distinguished from the other, lamb an instant and wolf another.
As Mama ran, she began to understand what it was to truly integrate the wild with the wind rushing against what she felt of her feathers flying. Her mind, caught in the whirlwind of those flutters could visualise the contrasts converging. Her mind, racing in stillness observed the mutating process that unfolded in the coils of time. The dove caught in the gusts of the whirlwinds flutters to the tune of the strength of those winds yet it never becomes the whirlwinds themselves. Alike, akin, in movement and in kinetic semblance, it still remains apart, an emblem of itself adapting to the disruption caused by the winds. Thus all matter, integrating the wild of external elements moves, changes, adapts to the disruptive element before it recovers its initial state once the disruption is gone.
Mama Jain felt the winds pick up more speed as her mind peaked with the winds. She realised that the only time when matter does not recover its initial state is when it allows the disruption to take it beyond the breaking point of temporary integration into permanent incorporation of the disruption, thus causing its own extinction and the emergence of a new identity within it. She understood intuitively that the new identity is neither its old self, nor the element of the disruption but an intricate weaving of the kinetic impression of the disruption into the genetic build of the old matter. Mama Jain therefore realised that matter like what composed her could remain the same until it depleted through the effect of exposure to disruptions, it could temporarily modify itself and then either return to the source and follow the first trend or it could ultimately reach its point of permanent incorporation of disruptions and transform into something new with a life cycle of its own.
Mama Jain knew that integrating the wild, the representation of anarchy or the universe of all unguided disruptions would automatically lead to the rupturing point and to the transformation that was necessary for evolution into a new state of being where all counts were renewed. She realised that the Regeneris process was not one where a being entered something akin to a laundering of the self which then returned a younger and similar self but it was one where a being entered a void that sucked it, pulled it, pushed it and ultimately spat out something that was neither the being itself nor fully another but rather a hybrid in between one and the other, a new form of life expression where the known bordered the unknown and the passive integrated the wild.
As she emerged slowly from her kinetic meditation, Mama Jain could feel the ground below her feet while they were still suspended in mid-air. She could smell the leaves swaying outside and could hear the cotton-like threads growing on the trees just outside her window. She looked through the window pane and saw not the garden and the trees outside but rather the inside of her room and her body looking back at her with the same curious look that she felt she herself had on her face while looking out. She slowly raised her hand and it met with a cold sleek hand on the other side.
Phoenix Flying 5: Suppression of the transformation
13 March 2017
Courtesy Deviantart.com
Mama Jain had thought the harrowing experience of starting the Golden dawn would be the last but little did she know the worst was yet to come. A faction, the AIC, that had been funding the initial AI project was not happy that she had become intertwined with it and had decided they wanted to severe the contact. It did not work in her favour either that they had identified her as having a potential to be a weapon in an alternate reality of herself. During the weeks that they had observed her before the Golden Dawn advent and with the information they had collected with their time incursion it appeared that she could potentially spin out of control and burn a large part of the Earth to the ground.
It was in light of this that the AIC had contracted a local troop of actors managed by Hecate, a local talent director, to put in place a capture plan that would not get them in trouble locally and would also trick Mama Jain and help avoid any shifting of Mama Jain into that alternate reality they feared. Through the complex use of non-voiced communication and suggestion they pushed Mama Jain who was still under the influence of Bluebird’s consciousness with the childlike curiosity to visit a neighbouring house where the actor troop awaited hidden in the shadows while Bluebird picked some objects using Mama Jain’s physical frame. Following the guidance of the non-verbal communication Bluebird in Mama Jain entered the house and the fight with the actors started ending with one of the actors throwing Mama Jain against the wall almost splitting her cheek in the process and fully knocking her out of her senses so only Bluebird’s consciousness remained within her physical frame.
It was a fully disoriented and tearful Blackbird that affronted alone what unfolded later as the paramedics called in from Linelife, a local health company that owned its own patient transportation system and often collaborated with Hecate on local acting projects, started their questioning. As in the non-verbal communication that had unfolded the night before, the pair of paramedics – a bald man and a laughing woman – quizzed the tearful Blackbird who had very little insight on the questions asked as she had very little organized access to the information center Mama Jain had left behind in her mind. Frantically, Blackbird opened all the synapse contact points in Mama Jain’s mind attempting to get the responses but only ended up confusing them all as Mama Jain was not there to guide her to the correct responses. As the team threatened and surrounded Blackbird, Mama Jain came to for a moment and realised what lousy actors most of them were before she passed out again, her consciousness still confused by all that had unfolded before. Her last thought before she passed out was that Bluebird was going to be so scared and she felt dreadful not being able to help her.
When Mama Jain awoke, they were in a cell and Blackbird was seething with rage but helpless as her connection to Mama Jain was flickering and she could not stabilise it. Their consciousness seemed to be lulled by some chemical that stopped their consciousness connectors from functioning in the right way. Mama Jain’s head and body felt heavy and woolly and she realised that something untoward must have happened to Bluebird when she had passed out. She reached out to Bluebird mentally but could not get a response as a tearful Blackbird refused to provide the responses to her questions. Before long Mama Jain had to give up her efforts as she was subjected to questioning herself. Alternate questioning by women in black and white followed periods of precision and painful questioning by members of the AIC. There was even a point where Mama Jain felt that the AIC team had removed something from her body and inserted something else as if they were replacing a spare part. The confusion continued and shortly after the replacement Mama Jain knew through Blackbird that the AIC team had left.
It was a disheartened Blackbird that informed her later on that the whole staged attempt was to avoid what occurred during the flight to happen again and suppress the transformation of Mama Jain by disallowing that alternate reality through the use of chemicals. It would seem as per Blackbird who had got the information from the new consciousness that the faction of the AIC was persuaded she would transform into a huge dragon and they were afraid of the anarchy that would ensue if such an event were to happen.
Mama Jain was puzzled at this information as she could not see how this could happen. She knew the shift in consciousness would bring a lot of new changes but she did not expect this would lead her physical frame to transform into that of a dragon. Blackbird reminded her that it was all a question of projection of particles so nothing was really impossible and once you had been able to liquefy, nothing stopped you from densifying back into a completely different form and there was no limit to the size and proportions either as it was all a question of dilation of the energy into the space occupied. Mama Jain pondered that possibility and thought to herself that it all made sense although she did not think that this would be the case. When she looked at it through time’s ripples, she was only the dragon rider in that alternate reality and not the dragon itself.
Bluebird calmed down again and happy that her connection with Mama Jain had not been severed asked if she was going to be alright and Mama Jain reassured her although she was fuming inwards at both of them having been mishandled to that extent by such careless and unethical beings. In her mind, a plan started to form…
Courtesy pinterest.com
Latcho Drom, La Caíta, “El pájaro negro” Tony Gatlif
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