Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Your being is flying, flying inside of whatever is free in me
name the spaces of evergreen streaming vision fleeting
is where gardens of us grew to beyond the sun (loving the moon)
poetry melting into the blending of us touching silky hot skin
forever, wherever your thoughts lead into seeing
to the center of the golden dream we dreamed
me I'm just floating in the sky you built long before we were born

Saturday, November 23, 2013

I'll always love
the pain you are
to me                  

(blood
 fire
 freedom)

Thursday, November 21, 2013

You can set all the angels free
Can you trust in the trust of letting out the dream
All you ever knew was just a wish of us waiting
To enter the lucid cloud of dragons chasing
Such a luscious paradise as us

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

It's too bad really,
that for me you died
some time ago

(hauntings)
some kinda history
hah baby?

world revovled
behind us

thought I pulled the
trigger on you baby

(Brush the dust off those
ghosts every once in a
while)

 

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Keep living the
beautiful life

(memory of the terrace,
off the marble room,Goddess
painting,

and you with the lotuses)
You turned the light on
in Paradise city

Down there in the valley
where all the girls are pretty
and yada, yada, yada,

We rode fast and hard,
jumped at 14.5 thousand feet
slid across the ground

(crashed every goddam thing that
moved)
Spent some time down in the
city gettin' dirty

(rented some time on the high
to get outta the city)

Slipped into paradise just
like a thief and lo
and behold

They gave me diamonds and gold
(all I gave them was my soul)

After the fire they sent me home
all burned out and such and such

and without the keys
I went in search of the perfect machines

(you were everything I ever
wanted
needed
dreamed of)

Friday, November 15, 2013

Sundari

If the comet becomes awesome
you and I will visit
In between the hemispheres

Sunday, November 10, 2013

we got hit that night
train-wreck smile
a mile wide

Too high to
hide

 Moontides and
shit

(floated away
floated damn near
to now

grounded down
nailed to the floor

can't find the door)

slammed out the shutdown
round and round the
earthspace

location unknown
she died after she lied
downtown

(turn the moon out
it's early)
Bloodshot free
ripped-jeans ridin
sextasy

days and days of
lucid dreams
poundin pavement
and flesh of
silken memory

those mountain mysteries
Shangri-la gravity
misty peaks

songs of dawn come
haunting
where do you go before
the penultimate run

(we had some good ones;
yeah

rode through storms
and shit-shows

freaked on the stuff and reeling
from the blows

some kinda prizefighter dodgin
stones

and the African flack
with the Asian-dirt-track

she was at least 6'2"
and stone cold beautiful

tear through you in the hurricane
morning and just splatter you in
her paintings:

0h sure she had the candles and the
wine and the silver
and the reasons to never
forget her)
I mean
whatever she wanted me
to be

(easy, easy
for her to free
the free)

slide with
talk of smooth
scenes

a cat with cream
and the cafe steam
(live on the scent and 
caffeine)

Something of the air inside
we shared breath
and it meant somethin
to me

(free and easy
in jeans) and
of course you know
all about the
machines

we rode fast NYC
times and the ghetto swag

(it's just a bag
lady
bag of tricks
and childhood dreams

let me trade them for your
fantasies)

with empty
means
We ain't that
crazy as angels
stoked up to the stars

(it's just the machines baby)
yeah we could fly and
everything
but she told me about the
song without speaking
(I mean she just started singing
halfway underground
inside the pyramids
by the river

perfect key to free
our soul-birds)

and then we rode
moto through the stinking
villages
children sinking into the
decay of a civilization that
once
ruled

Yeah she was a goddess
and whatever
she took the microphone and
told us about the enlightenment,
blah-blah-blah

The empty chaired gurus and the
stone facades
(stolen lotuses sold cheap
I mean I bought you those roses
grown on the blood of hungry
beggars)

and they probably just died by
the bedside with our
throw-away ecstasy
and Western bravado




I've had some lucky nights
Star-crossed and such
we gave our souls

Dumped our gold
rode fast into
sunset

Thursday, November 7, 2013

What was he supposed to say,

"Hey, we took a trip to paradise
and you asked for a refund"

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

They say he's in the
North Country now

(maybe he has a full beard
and wears the fur coats of animals he's
trapped

I don't know...maybe it's a
lie and he's clean shaven
hustling the rich girls
at Soho art shows

He could be in Asia doing
the phony guru thing
meditating in pyramids
with all the beads and such,
acting like he's gone
local

I'm sure he still writes poetry,
probably riding those damn
motorcycles,

(they say he's started to jump
out of airplanes again)

I have not heard from him
he was always elusive,

but then again he has a habit
of reappearing in full regalia)

Most Phoenix-like son of a bitch
I've ever met
could reinvent himself
at the drop of a hat

(probably pull some big flashy stunt
any second now)
I made the machines
my friends

We had this rock n roll thing
to work through
and the pain
and the ecstasy pulled us through

(i never knew it would be you )
axis of that moment roaring

symmetry of our perfect centrifuge
(everything we've loved and feared)

All ghosts and angels riding
free
Ride free with you
Ride free alone

(I know my gods are
with me)

I keep your tears in an amulet
I keep your smile as a shield

I keep your warmth (it's another
sun inside my fire-heart)

I tattooed your name inside
my wings
(with the blood we bled)

It's okay for you to be free
from me
(I'm just some kinda bird anyway)

Some eagle or
somethin'

(some kind a' tribal tattoo,
where only the mythological
content remains)

Sunday, November 3, 2013

We were like
"Sha la la la man"
it's just the machines


She came with the dreamers
(out in the forest)
spirit guides

Friday, November 1, 2013

Beyond the death
times

(she had musical goddess
rhymes)

some kind of sky flyer
(never used the ground)

With the wings and
the guitars and the
trips to Asia
(and whatever else she
says)