(no subject)
I left tomorrow's promises in yesterday's jeans,
and today, these days, things just ain't what they seem
I came to in a cold shower of stale surprise and fresh sweat
had my morning coffee and fifth cigarette
the days they roll by like the weeds we forget
that keep tumblin' by nonchalantly
greeting us - kickin' up dust - with vacant regret
wanderin' 'bout with no better place to be
I was wearin' those jeans for about a week too long
forgot to empty my pockets before they got in the wash
and the radio's been playin' the same old song
tellin' tales of women loved and lost
dollar bills crisp and faded, still good as new
;
White on black and shades of grey
paint the scapes and in between
a valley sinks at thoughts of novelty
trembling, looking up to the Parthenon
a warm, soft breeze parts her ruby lips
cascading like a waterfall, gold as day
my fists relax grip on the sun and sky
setting sail to an armada of ships
which embark from my palms as wind blows at the leaves
tasting the treasure of direction from every gust
the ocean's blue and sunshine's hue
rains down into my eyes
a thousand eyes, like petaled crown, worn upon my head
consummates the vision of colors to unify the dead
with the spirit of the living
and i see then, clearly, what the sailors see:
the fallacy of End
where we begin is no beginning
we pick up where we left off
the horizon shines and brushes my brow
stenciling the here and painting now
;
A thousand eyes, like petaled crown, worn upon my head
survey the skies of Babylon
and blink, eternal Red
Machines rust, kick up their dust, and taint my very blood
prosthetic souls calculating our destinies;
a purpose unfulfilled when come down the flood
to wash away the iron fist and man who kiss its fingers
cleanse our vision to prophets among us -
within with all.
;
Tidepools of aquamarine are the ripples rippling gently in her eyes;
reefs called home by a rainbow of spiraling crustaceans
Infinite streams of sunset are the threads of flowing hair
enduring forever in a sunburst glow
Her name is uttered in every vibration in the universe
and her voice consummates the symphony of spirits
;
“Eight”
You tell me I ought not to leave
but there’s no way I can’t not go
My dreams give me mountaintops high
Golden chariots weave the sky
Building webs of serenity
Warm and rich yet don’t melt the snow
Waves meet as ocean, east and west
One body where spirits adjoin,
carrying the ring of liberty
upon sonic tides flowing within and without
echoing into eternity
Lions majestic thwart the fog,
mighty incarnations of love,
wearing upon their manes a light -
the vagrant souls of the everlasting.
In the absolute center of infinity
even our flesh endures as a flower,
a grain of sand and mountain’s peaks.
Mortality thrives in the imagination,
Every breath of life flows surely
as far as the cosmos reaches
All you know, all you are, all you’ll be
flutters and mingles in and about itself;
in and about of others - all, yourself.
When the sun sets, the sun rises;
Here tides recede, there they rise;
You are born, and somewhere I die
Illusion is that you are not the sky,
Not the earth, and that you die.
;
Her tears are tides of the dead sea
Receding by the moon’s decree
Spiral, swish, swiftly splash
Upon the dew of morning grass
Golden air blankets the world
But darkness looms within
Squally squalor thrives in her heart
Plaguing her every notion
Paralyzed from mind, to heart to soul
She makes no mental motion
Her pools of reflection stagnant, still
anticipate convulsion