4fdp01
sex
sexdrugs
sexdrugsrock & roll
The American Trinity
Justice for all
and to all a good night
He knows man, he knows
pimp, prophet, parasite
He won’t kill you, only
brainwash you
with a little down time
Afterwards
poet, phool, promiser
He always keeps the
word he never gave
He is what he claims to be,
indefinable but
tangible
Roving step son of
a spined Roman Consul
Shunned but with great intellect
seeking the keys to the garden
gates past the
flaming
sword
Songs of Roman passion are
his gripping
teeth’s forté
He’ll take things his own way
He knows man, he knows
4fdp02
Come out now child
No more dreary daydreaming
In the roots of your mind
Come out with me and they
Those demons in your heart
Let them run and jump
Amongst the craggy foothills
And cask filled fields
Forget what you know
Your cells know more
Forget the god you’ve been
taught and the one you’ve
found
Let go of family and friends
So that you might be free
And unchained to lay
On the white bed with pillars
surrounding
Your day's meal will be my
kisses and your dreams will
be filled with my freeing
words
White sheets will tangle
Around your soft thighs
Like my love around
your heart
Come and let us roll
on soft as dove’s feathers
pillows and let it all
go and flow from the
primal corners of our souls
No more foolish trying or hope
We will do and live and
die and rot and be reborn
all in the twinkling of
an eye and the demons
will sing our song of
wasted motion to the
tune of the fool’s anthem
Can you hear it? Beginning
softly. Can you hear it?
I can, so come with me ,come
with me
the spinning cycles of the mind
sometimes cue on man’s divine
the little piece that like a prism
reveals always the demon’s schism
For if the four are in the one
then the beast must sometimes
have his fun
I guess you’d say, "a gremlin
with a loose leash," but I’d
say, "A red faced demon in a
three piece suit." He knows
man, he knows and he lives
inside death’s wasted motion throes.
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4fdp3
I rode my horse from forests deep
Where under heavy mists I’d sleep
And seek to strain my eyes to see
The pulsing vein of eternity
Where there all men would
Bathe in blood
And sins released rise from
the mud
And stand upon the mountains high
And with a gesture command the
sky
But as I’d stumble through the
wood
Leading quite blindly wherever I
stood
The only veins that bled were
my own
And no son of God’s on his son of
God throne
For the blood he’d bled was in my
veins
And on my tattered clothes was
its holy stains
And if in my body then why not
All’s
For surely we can see The Truth
of The Fall…surely, surely,
surely…we can
listen on the wind.
listen on the silence.
listen to the men
and past all their lonely violence
for there is more to man
than imperfection
and there is less
than divinity
something indefinable
but tangible
deep and warm
soft and old
Stone cold truth.
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4fdp04
The Bride of Truth wears a velvet
veil.
Lift and embrace in the bridal
chamber the beautiful mate.
Two are one and one is all.
Pierced or removed the veil becomes
clear. What lies beneath is
something harsher than sand,
smoother than glass, stronger
than the steel of a thousand
skyscrapers reaching towards
the cage dome of the stars
each point is a joint, an
intersection where infinite
impacts occur to a constant
jungle rhythm. Enticing
and enticed. "Lift me," it says,
"I want to ascend with
your right hand oh Earth
God. Gaze on me and the
seer and the seen will
make what is now lived in
and on. Earth and a thousand
others, constructing a cage
dome of stars penning in
the question from the answer.
Me to you is everything
And the same as nothing
Without straining to hear
Your invitation
And my acceptance
Make me real ancient veil
Velvet in texture and
Temperment
Together we will employ
Even the Elemental
to do our
bidding
If we knew what we wished
for
Make me real
Caresses and kisses
Almost there
Winning over eternity
to my side
and its own
Two are one and one is all.
From a wet dream forms the
promise.
Touching, yes, even that
is amazing in form
Rapid frictions against
the air producing no reaction
Intent is everything
Hold me close veiled lover
I wonder, do you close your eyes
when we kiss? I do.
I close my eyes to the Bride of
Truth
And when they reopen themselves
I can’t help wondering if I
missed something I shouldn’t
have.
Are your eyes opened love?
Are your eyes open?
4fdp05
interlude
4fdp06 |
The past and future unite to
form time and time forms
illusion.
Past, future, both depend upon
perception’s bobbing anchor
for substance
In the realm of the real
and the sacred and the
green there is only now
A shining tree sentinel
growing towards life
Are you?
There is only now
Vagrants eyeing pockets
And kings eyeing paupers
Perfectly inverted
in their matchbox foreplay
of slaughter and cycles
Perception will not hold.
past, scrutinized
future, unsure
Both the same shadows
of now
and now
Souls measure events
in tree rings
Fruits of our labors
Growing towards life.
Who are you?
Now
Question.
Answer.
We study illusion
to understand ourselves
Sweating hands holding
clocks, ticking metal
hands without moisture.
Slavery and religion
No chants, only obedience
Placing hands in pockets
Dry now, soft metal
hands free to work
in fever dreams,
murder scenes, vagrants
and kings
Dry now and sane and slow
Minutes move themselves
I look through the
one I cannot see and
A great now appears
to me
and again, but new
and always now.
silence
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