Turn Tennyson West toward the pale afternoon
As the chimney sweep soot boots tap Taps in the ballroom
Connivary
Plasård
Cídone
All ants kiss gentle greetings
Sit worn in weird classroom chairs questioned too long
The hindsight soars skyward yet foresight is gone
We live, we die, we multiply - a billion years before our time
And growth denies what stains our lives
So as we seek we plunder
The great escape – St. Jeannet, France
A mountain nesting worth the chance
Sit perched above the jewels of Nice
Try counting countless blessings
Strut self-assured across the beach
On smooth-laid stones that break a stride
You falter forward – catch yourself
Continue toward the cool, blue tide
And speak to gods who fail to answer
Instead forced fed to face our cancer
In truth the pain of coming down
Is so much simpler than it seems
I’ve languished here 5,000 years
Five seconds more and I’ll be free
The clouds of light burst into flame
The hole expands and swallows me
In darkness split the sky divide
As all kept secrets span the plain
A rush of holy absinthe coursing
Through my veins of styled finesse
I’m so electric satisfaction
An alligator suit of red
I am the shark that swims beneath you
Searching seafloors for salvation
In my arm dug deep the daylight
Liquid Jesus neon ride
In ‘terra-eyes’ lie hidden truths
Begotten Son of Sovereign Sew
Lost Shepherd to cerebral thoughts:
‘You’re wandering further from the fold’
Cerebral thoughts to Shepherd’s Flock:
‘Cordoned in cosmos cellophane’
Space cowgirls grow up faces fast
I wish they’d take their time and stay
Propose to them with Saturn’s rings
‘Neath Enoch’s Zion-ed Milky Way
Consummate with chitter-chatter
Lost the faith, but what’s it matter?
Biting the seams of stitched rhinestone-lined dreams
Give me fashion and lust and a god I can trust
Intense isolation breeds infatuation
For artistic creation when the father held sway
But the father loves more than one ever could asked for
And now it’s that love that turns daughters away
Is it wrong to detect that our problems connect
To the fact that our souls have as yet to let go?
When it happens, you shutter and your heart starts to flutter
And you weep until Buddha revives your sweat head
And it’s good to be here, dare to dream – dream in fear
What’s regarded as nightmare can sometimes prove promising
Prose restrict tongues that have long been extinguished
Oh, this sweet sad existence is the essence of all things
And to be young – a poet, and to hear the tree fallen
Smell the soft embers burning as the flesh falls away
Cast the subtle wish upward toward the skies of Atlantis
O’er the sea crest Golightly in her stalwart jazz sway
And the kiss proof of toilet seats, the world slowly dying
It’s the hydrogen jukebox Prince Ginsberg dropped dime
It’s a mystical guru-fueled number of pleasantries
Found high on the mountaintops snow-capped in mystery
The mad ones to live, madder yet the mad season
Howl the idiot winds as the Cheshire cat grins
Don Quixote and Lancelot swapping distressed damsel stories
While Rapunzel and Stiltskin spin fair golden hair
Oh, this sweet sad existence breaks its stale bread with beggars
And the veterans of wars who have lost noble faith
In a system that breathes the grave sins of machines
See the woman malnourished give her breast milk to liberty
Oh she wants to pretend the suits passing her by cannot see her
She’s bruised and been crying for centuries
Pleading for someone to take her small orphans
And give them a hope that has long been expired
Petrified paper dolls hang like fruit on the poplar trees
The Jack of Spades chances the Queen of Heart’s glances
And with cards stacked against him makes his move with romances
The white dress she wears hides the lies she confesses
But what does Jack care? He’s the one the priest blesses
To take her and make her the queen of his schemes
So hold fear for ransom, the chains have been broken
You’re free from the sweet sad existence you’ve ruled
So far off your sweet head, take the gun and run screaming
Out into the street and shoot down the crowned fool.
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