this is my magnum opus, my life's achievement so far
the weaving of my personal psychological history
with the grand history and striving spirit of
man, philosopher, mystic, scientist, god coccoon.
this came last night, all of it.
peace and goodwill to all humankind!
wer kann kreativ übersetzen?
man
does the man bow to the sunset mountain silhouette?
naked, arms stretched to the source in worship?
or do his ears grow roots
back into the ground
until sunrise he becomes?
artist
do we create purely to escape the realities we cannot face?
two sidewalk artists racing hieroglyphs
perfect match:: but only one sees the true light of history
as whole star civilizations rise and fall with an idea
and man's soul can be bought with one kiss
from the mouth of mystery
and delight
hippy
what a hippy is?
free, intolerant of restraint
love, intolerant of stagnation
peace, that wild power forgotten?
original ancient hippy guru with the first fresh dew
on his dreads and threads
and the milk and honeysuckle grin
and a key to ancient knowledge
spinning a reality
to care for you in
angel
were such flames of grand fire wings forged to serve?
to hurry here and there in errands
like some bad shakespeare play
with no sense of english?
or does it split your sense of reality such
that you doubt the very existence of the god who ordered you here
to serve, the guardian angel of a mere man
with heart bleeding green as snakes
nothing but the cats eyes
and the patience of job
devilo
behold the grand twister of mysteries
the weaver of stolen virgin hair
into golden ropes
to climb free of heaven
who shoe sense of illusion we cant even taste
who shoe sense of reality we cant bear to face
smoke & mirrors for beginners
licking his apocalypse
big bad wolf gonna bare his grin
get back in your beds before he gets back in
for a thousand faiths have believed in him
and his famous cloak of darkness
so i asked the devil
what is a lie?
and he answered
jokingly...
where would men be
without alexanders faith in the lie of unity?
sacredly...
where would christ be
without the lie of the grave he chose to disbelieve?
and with a snarl...
where would i be
if i were free to fly forever?
the only lie is death!
and he quoted einstein...
any lie worth the time of day
a parallel dimension make
and he quoted shakespeare...
rise you striding alexanders
rise you virgin christs of the new world
proudly ascend the rolling tide of history & destiny
and in the warp of peeling quotes
he tied my one hand behind my back
the other i held high, soul in tight grip
and then he offered me the chaos control engine
its levers i grasped in ecstatic delight
to which he commented
there now
that didnt hurt a bit
and his crafty, boyish grin revealed a missing tooth
war
the very air vibrates at the distant hum of many mighty wings
the sensational sound of the chariots of war
heating up atoms & toppling kings
the beast she rides is c'thulu, man's million hungry mouths
her love drug wine the emission of warriors
& dogs of war
who abandoned this soft woman to intrigue?
to this nursery shared of dragons & snakes?
the scratches, the thornwall penetrating her rest
until she turned and loudly bit off their heads
one more armaggeddon and it will all be alright
kiss my poison lips tonight
and lick the vampire
sweet the fight
ebb and flow, over we go
the mud and the blood
stain our very souls
wax & wain to cobweb spirals
woven dreamwebs
for the ecstatic little flies
and the fat spider queen
entropy
such be the tide of things
the sound of one hand clapping is the eternal masturbation of a male god
until he rise and create woman with soft touch & passion for fruit
and the cycle ends
with man's identity revealed
his face hardened into the liquid lines
of the stern gods he invented
and all their icy veins
eve
ragged hair & tattered clothes
she will not lose her queenly pose
her royal stature set in stone
or constructed from the bones of kings
see adam run as the women tease and jest
tossing his precious rib over his fumbling fingers
lost a bone? they laugh as he drops, weeping,
to his knees
in the bitter dew
chance, dance & deception
strong wine for the returning warriors
a pinch of powder and the knees of iron bend
the eyes of the eagle mist & close
lost in dreams of ecstacy
as eve's hypnotic song
bathes & prepares her soiled heroes
for her strange fascinations
and secret rituals of rings
hidden to men
but she underestimated the power of the ring
and it became the means of her oppression
ripping the final earthgold strands from her scalp
she sets all her sourcery into the final, whispered spell of the sisters
and becomes the sleeping beauty
losing herself for a thousand years
into the scratch of the thorns
til her troubled boychilds brow
glows with the sign of her phoenix
as he speeds the cursed ring to mount doom
man: a poetic suite
-
Titali
