Wish
One fabulous motionless wonderful thought
On the calming satirical breeze it was caught
And carried away to a far off mind
One is the same in a world of the kind
The thought shifts to the dreamscape
Of a long-lost peaceful uninhabited land
That exists at the exact center of creation
And can be found nestled in the little boy’s hand
The dreamscape starts to waken
But a fragment is left behind
And is carried on the cool and friendly late November breeze
Through the window of a sleeping child
And begins the teachings of an innocent mind
The mind begins to wander
To places the child is unable to see
And when the silver thread of consciousness is broken
The thought is finally set free
This new found freedom spreads to the minds
Of all the people within the scope
Of the powerful wondrous weapon of hope
And sparks the process of uncontrolled thought
Creating ambitions that cannot be fought
These ambitions when followed can change us all
Into something more beautiful than
in all of the skies
of all of the worlds
in all of the space that surrounds us
Peace
Real Dream Life
Tick tock clocks stop dead in my head
no time for crimes left dead in bed
dream tide flow by
soft velvet caress
with flowers and colors they dress
Black smack hits here with fear
of glare from blaring roar of silence
let loose by sleeping noose
hanging low over soul set to spoil
and roll into nothing
Broken stoned and left alone
for no good reason but my own
felt fire desire retire home to clone all dreams
seems to come again
again again again again
Again I see the blind sight horror
fright knight right up in face despite all guard
the card dealt me felt me brake
under weight all its own
Cut to bone in brain
sane gone
new plane to explore
with shore and sea so plain to me
too wild for reality
Dream all goes like silent rose
seed bud flower compost
to grow more life
less beautiful than before
but no less alive
Consuming old beauty to create such decay
a cycle I see each night in a dream
how long since I have woke to choke
on the bile of consciousness
what a mess it makes
to be awake
Feel the wrecking ball fall all over
the plan of land and freedom seldom thought of
random fortune left alone
suffering aloud in chaos realm
Surrounded by salivations of creatures unique
looking to feed on speak spoke close to ear
for fear of not being heard
would be better than the fate
given itself in the telling
Told sold hold it close
for nothing will stop it
from running away
right back in the face of your race
run without end with so called friend
who hears all said from foreign lips
native slips of tongue
Most powerful weapon
when kept sharp for cutting
through foggy logs of crap
piled up to chin
with sinful whispers naughty laughters
Safer to dream unto yourself
in golden darkness silent refuge
in cave warm mind theater
clean of all consumers
of trash and other words
Dream deluge refuge
from sight fright light night day
left to burn turn it all around
no sound for truth trumpets of youth
in knowledge college mind
decay away to speak so clear
pass near ear without making mark
Silent speech sparks thought taught only to self
no one else can do for you what you do
through night of fright sad laughing chaos
of inside look at other forms of self
All attention paid stayed alone
flesh dome of individualism
prism to separate the colors of
you me he she they us them
all white noise until seen again
through diamond mind
can find it all in dreams
Worcester – Nov. 27-29, 1998
The music flowed over the crowd like a coming tide – tossing them
around in a rhythmic chaos – leaving them ultimately beaten and ravaged
– pushed to shore by the light and silence that followed the last
consciousness-absorbing chord of invisible power. Left to their own once
more the crowd turns from sea to river – flowing through cement
tributaries of order – seem out of place in a place filled with these things –
chaotic loved stoned tired fulfilled fabulous young bodies of flesh.
And the city succumbs to a flood of dazed amazed followers who once again
have caught another glimpse of their own private heavens, but together
they got there – individual utopia attained by mass disreality and exotic
powerful erotic rhythms of fantasisms left unbound by any preset limits.
Only together they found themselves – the river floods the streets and
slowly the puddle of enlightenment rolls away in dribs and drabs – each
off to their own with new dreams to dream and visions to see. The city
must wait another year for the quenching, overwhelming spiritual rain.
I Went
We came in droves by any means necessary
And we joined together in a freedom unmatched in the world of reality
A common rhythm neverending
A peace undaunted by time or space
We found our land and built our city
Ecstatic in calling it home
We danced and sang and got drunk in the rain
A collective wish come true
A spiritual explosion of music love and youth
Trey bien!
We Go Oswego
Had to go to Oswego to build a new home for our collective perfection
Collected ourselves and each other
Rolled north like a raging river
Toward our new found place of freedom
But as we closed in on our destination
The river slowed to a mere trickle
Our momentum was destroyed
So I began the long walk home
Walked straight through the sunrise and into the coming day
My brethren lined the country road like an advancing army
A major migration of souls stopped dead in its tracks
But our desire would not be subdued
Through hours of darkness
And hours of blazing heat
We struggled to break the dam that held us back
Our desire was insatiable
We finally rolled into the grassy sea
Upon which we built our city
And all our dreams were made real once again
In the realm of our manufactured heaven
RHETORICA UNIVERSAL
Kneal before the sacred water
loose your soul to hunt and slaughter
the mysteries of your nature
a creature
undiscovered
unlike any other
wondering what to be
can’t see the question
whose answer becomes the mystery
the sky is no more than
decoration
our final destination
entertainment travesty
becomes our history
and quickly we succumb
to the power of comfort
sink in and smile
for awhile
like the child we were meant to be
in the eyes of technology
foolish seductees
taken in by their aim to please
useless to resist
for they are the fist
that is crushing the world
disturbed beyond proportion
struggling with doubt
cannot get out
of this rut we have created
in the circle
we cannot help but
run
Drink a draught from the blessed river
feel the gods begin to shiver
with the joy of being
understood
if you ever thought you could
you can
nothing will stand in your way
travel
unravel the road neverending
rising falling rolling bending
infinite turns and destinies
of destructions and fantasies
a marvel of modern man
project unplanned
action thoughtless
defining process
leading to the
moment
when it all comes right
dawning of the night
twilight of the day
same
creation
devastation
one belief
just the beginning
truth
another road want for traveling
but there is precious little time
and i will take
mine
finding myself in reflection
had no intention
of knowing
but there i see
growing
the tree of destiny
sprouting seeds of
revolution
Come around again
Kneal before the sacred water
ritualized hate becomes the slaughter
that attracts the spotlight of enlightenment
torrent of spirit
rains down form the universe
perversed logic
chaotic order
random display of power
to tower over
all other creations
each just becomes a part of the whole
the goal is infinite
it just can’t get enough of it
spreading out into space
running a different race
than any run before
no doors to block the way
no roads to lead you astray
power over destiny
tidal wave of eternity
stops to give a ride
to where ever it is you wish to go
no show or trivialities
just life’s simple realities
suppressing all else with obviousness
Obsession defines the mind that hides behind
a curtain of longing doubt
without the courage to try
Possession defines the fallacy
of what you wish the world to see
when looking upon the illusion
of your distinction
It has no want for drama
has no need for dreams
can create
any imagined scheme
but is wise enough
to remain
nothing
