#poetry #lyrics - hey hey

oooh oooh
hey hey

the garbage pale hears you
say they
the subject who nears you
today
the garden gnome pay day
the garden gnome pay day

oooh oooh
hey hey

the veil lift terrific
for some
to transform a mission
you go
the prophet of judgment day
the prophet of judgment day

oooh oooh
hey hey

the fish looks delicious
can't wait
to dig in and holiday
to stay
you got it so now you pray
you got it so now you pray

#poetry - Windmills of Acid Rain

The wind mills release a sound,
beating the words of acid rain.
Paper thin zombies amble by
and communicate their dead zone
by touch and abracadabras
upon the hood and car doors.

We had gone into a quiet Nowhere Place
to escape the end of the world.
There were pool tables
and foosball tables
and swimming pools
and cages that swung from the ceilings
with paper streamers.
Just a small lot of us.

Now we emerge
and follow a man with an arm tatoo
of three old tall ships.
He walks us by the zombies.
The zombies cannot see us
until we are clear of them.

We get into a dented car
and the windmills rake the sky
as we drive to escape the sound
of the acid rain pelting its way
through the roof of the car.

There is no hope for us in this dream,
So we wake up and drink coffee.

#poetry - You Can Tell a Path

The time to reconcile
  the truth of now
  is coming fast.

I want to pause a while
  with a smile
  and enjoy my laugh.

The line becomes tomorrow
  the song of how
  we're gonna last.

Ah, every thought a mile
  hearse recital
  for the rightful Path.

#poetry - and yet we'll be together

the animal anima show
sells fast,
the body will go
but the prayers won't last,
and dwindles down to zero
each lord before his lass.

someday we'll be together.
today i'm your sargent,
john singer,
and tonight you are so important---
to me!
flamenco dancer.

go against the gold wall,
my will vertigo your shadow
vibrates and crawls,
the pen and the paper
and the flow
and the pall

home for no one me oh my

me oh me oh me oh my
lee la la
lee la la

into into trees on fire
lee la la
lee la la

up by up by smokey wires
lee la la
lee la la

Signs of the Key Hummer

All upon the wildest day of sorrow.
 Two Birds, one awful chord,
 were fighting in the yard.
 The day had yet been born,
 my eyes were searching hard.

All upon the wildest day of sorrow.
 True words, a false message
 were scratching in our head.
 The day was moving on,
 the sea was boiling red.

All upon the wildest day of sorrow.
 New Lords entered the court--
 the lion killed the cow,
 the day was strong and bright,
 the horns were blowing loud.

Now upon the longest day of sorrow.
 Who could imagine this?
 We're stranded without time.
 The day remains full on,
 the shade we cannot find.

quest of the armaged ion

"the quest of the armaged ion"

here comes again to my mind
a desire to know what the end is like,
when the starlight is gone to the eye,
and the sun core is cold in the heart.

i must have in this body on any day
enough ions, enough energy to,
with the help of long mental levers,
move my ignorant boulder and know all.

a light bulb precedes the light it gives,
yet light precedes the light bulb.
the body precedes the mind it generates,
but mind precedes the body.

unless the mind is an accident of the body,
perhaps the body is an accident of the energy,
perhaps the energy is an accident of the creator,
perhaps the creator is foolish, though powerful.

does all power require all knowledge?
does all power precede all knowledge?
may be true all-power is all-knowledge, 
and if so, we have two words for one thing.

would you agree all-power and all-knowledge
is the constitution of god, what god is?
put aside the word love, for a moment,
for love is part of that two word package.

must there be context in order to exist?
must there be an off for every on?
           a death for every life?
and must there be non-gods in god's creation?

an apocalypse is lifting the veil.
the veil is a shroud covering all-truth.
all-truth may be the eternal event of heaven.
heaven may be a place of being with god.

in god's creation, there is space and time,
human concepts to measure out, divide and unify.
perhaps all life combined assembles heaven.
here and now, then, is an ageless cousin of infinity.

perhaps the all-life heaven we assemble together
is god's mirror, perhaps we are fit in unison
to stand and be one with our creator
so long as we can stand and be one.

all these questions and answers---
          all these questions and answers,
they are circling, circling, circling,
they are circling, circling, circling.

the circles grow ever narrow
          the circles grow ever wide
to burrow down into truth, a spiral
to open the aperture or sharpen the gaze of the eye.

the moment of birth is an armageddon
of nothingness, proof of somethingness.
into my thoughts i admit then
the moment of death proves nothingness.

so while one is one and two, otherwise,
zero is a hole in the floor
we must avoid at all cost---
what else are our armaged ions for?

all these questions and answers
they are humans and angels
they are singing, singing, singing
they are slowly ringing the all-truth bells.

are we to wake up by this sound
or learn how to sleep peacefully in spite?
would waking up be a process of sleeping,
i'm inclined to think the other way right.

memory i say is the fastest entity
this universe has ever known,
for conception occurs in the split nano-second
of all knowledge, where god returns home.

absolute memory is fleeting, it cannot be clocked.
we remember everything before we forget anything,
everything comes back to us, like a universal shock
between the numbers of time.

armaged ions swirl throughout our body and mind,
and we brink on the edge of doom
for one purpose only,
to peer into our creator's room.

Originally published on AIDYs Poetry Blog

Prelude for White Midnight

take this dram of medicine and watch them fade away,
the self-important stars that burn holes
through night's abyssmalness--
the elder lights, the guiding voices of choir,
who alone, but never are they alone,
would make a thought seem like a mirror to them,
but together turn all thoughts into dreams.

take this dram and watch these strings of light beams
pull taut their puppet, you,
and bring the silence some call peace,
this manifesting choir's appetite--
say good night to your night time friends,
say good morrow to their cousin, the nearer star,
and good heavens for, the nearest, morning star.

take this and watch the stars unfold in your lidded eyes
how they never could by uncovered skies,
oh how they trip and fall within your mind,
oh the comet's ball that is your mind!
and save this night-sky for another time
when the tide of your days shortens and the mystical eye widens,
and in the yet longest hours come the white midnight flowers.