I.

I am the dreamer
The holy sloth

I ask God for kinship
He gives me instant enlightenment
Speak easy, child of the sun.

You too will be great.
Stand tall
They taste death on
Easy red beaches

Who’s kidding who?
Who’s human anyway?
What do you know?
That you don’t know.
Oh.
Okay.

Springs of diamond grass in
Black forests
Free to chime
In the light
Of the gratuitous night.
See how they fight
Thinking they’re right
Sometimes I smirk merely at the
Sight

Sing a song
For humankind
Wasting away
Living blind

(Death approaches like a cold wet hand
Clammy and inevitable)

The nuptial gardens are pink and golden
In the fall days
Golden parade
Sing a song to celebrate
Being alive.

Tell me of your journeys, old friend
Where have you been in this life
And
Where will you be in the next?
Today’s morrow?
Why spend the time to look ahead?

Seasons flavor the years gone by
Giving a sort of spice to time
Yet I sigh
For we shall all surely die.
Whisper in the winds
Voices once tall
Once grand
Once more for old time’s
Sake.
Do you believe in the grand scheme?
Have you grasped the divine plan?
Are you alive?

Sing a song
For whiskey’s sake.

Luminescent river
Guide me to my wake
I give to you my
Holy gift, my one eternal
Coveted shard
Amorphous yet real
Youth, closeness to infancy
Life, here and now
Forever.
Seek for yourself the
Timeless prophecies
They will contribute heedlessly
To your dawning

Capture to you now the
Essence of the sun
What fun!
What love for you and I?
Look to the sky!
Infinite possibility nigh
High and high, no other way
Are you ready to live
Or die today?

Placid and uninvolved
Boredom strangles time like
A sickly stupid plague
With no real purpose
Birth or death
With no real advent
If you not will it
It will never acquiesce.

Understand you paint your own reality,
Understand you cultivate your own fruitations
We’ve made vast and undeniable progress this day
Now we can engage in due celebration.

I wish for life
Not that which is not life.

Submersion in the
Suburban street

We hope to tamper with the ether.

Do you now see what a holy gem hast been bestowed
For your onerous keeping?
Timeworn and free,
Merciless gypsy
Hit the road
For sure, we’ll never know
How far how far we can go
But we must try
And push
On
On
Push on
Until we die
For what other thing is there
Worth living for?

To slave away all day
For an iron wage?
To enter the grand
Scheme
Which flounders
And suffocates
Fellow human beings?
Why die this day?
Life, I say
Work it or not
Love love love
Tomorrow we’ll rot
In our graves
Today
We will partake
In massive gestations of
Unrivaled proportion
We will sing to our bliss
And produce coveted
Sacred art
Beautiful literature
Maddened poetry of
Youth and troubles
And such
Wander the world
Like hopeless empty souls
In hopes of unburdening.

See what you have become?
See what you have become.

O, this day, in my youth
I proclaim my personal freedom
Absolute and true,
I mean real,
Free
To live and die, live my life
Unburdened from self
And society.
All that lot,
Fear not
The holy goose has
Resurrected itself
For our convenience.
Thank God!

Undulating modulations
Freedom song
Whoa, what’s really going on?
I don’t remember.

Jim Morrison; A song
Free and true
Overmuch love, death
For me and you.

O kindred spirit,
Vie yourself to live though to the end of our existence
With me, alive and well,
Push the boundary
Of mental hell.
You can see your life, singing high
Your adventure
Is coming nigh.
Free and true the angels sing
Death is but another thing.
Ease your mind and enter the ring,
Life’s despair anyway.

Tragedy and nervous shakes
Humanity and rotten stakes
Free yourself, you’re the guide
Choose to glimpse the other side,
Over the wall see the light,
You’ve seen enough despair tonight.

Free us all they cry,
But all I can do is shake my head,
For you must free yourself.

The sicken’d river palpitates with
Thick rueful scums
The road of the mad and the sick
Chosen by almost all
Feeling it inevitable.

Dare to brave into the unknown
To glare out to the maddened spiraling sea
Jump the raft, feel the draft
Tomorrow you’ll be gone with me.

Hope, dream, fruitless endeavor
Trust and faith are what make you free.
Realize and embrace the
Universal mind
For all its eccentric majesty.
Don’t look twice it will make you free.

Brother, witness with me
the river of madness
It’s crazy and voluptuous
They call it the masses.

Sing a song and rave about life
A sanguine raven
Gesturing through the air
With subversive purpose
If at all.

Witness the construction of the
Plastic tower
Don’t you wish it were
Made with gold?

Saddened and frenzious because
None of them bold.
We all grow old
The youth be not bold
They wait for death with a
Defeated scowl
They do not howl
When the whip hits their bowel
Children forgotten
Deafened past tears
Nowhere to go
Swallow the years.

Hope turns to one
A soft, vague smile
Passion left years gone
with dilapidated style
safe
but are you really free?

We must ask questions of the divine
We must seek our escape

Help us all lest we recreate
The middle ages
Censored and judicial
Coat of arms
Sound the alarm
The enemy propagates
At our iron-forged gates
Lest we be quick
They will meet with instant enlightenment
Immediate mortification
Is that not what we all seek?
Not to be so bleak but
Let us hit the road
One more ode
To life anew free
For me
And
You
Who will be left in our final hour?
Who will we know?

The world replaces itself in a hundred years;
Open the floodgates
Revive
Savor the nutriment of the womb-like night
In all of its salacious inductions
Madman’s seduction
Cusp of death
Vivid in the discerning moonlight
Visionless promise
Blood-pact
Aphrodisiac
Transient heart-attack
All senses and abilities
Temporarily shattered
In wretched real ecstasy
Mortal and free
You should follow me

Ride on your river
Into the fogged forever
What a streach
Let’s connect
Just don’t bother me
Let me see
Life is short
No time to retort
Give me the key
We will both find our way away
From this sickened facility
I swear we will find a way
To facilitate the escaping
Then the whole of life will be ours
To pass in wearied, transient hours
Vinous and groggy in the
Indian moonlight
Orient and extravagant
Like fine dress
Some see it a mess
Instant madness
Befalls to those who
Cannot take the rapid stimulation

The full life is tough to bare
But amazing in all ways.
See what I say?
See what is possible?
Or do you choose to reside in your
Cubicle?
Don’t bother me
Fore I am wild and I am free
Mad drummer of ancient incarnation
Flower chanter
Firelight banter
Boneskin beat
Hard to keep
Ancient rite
That of true spring
Blue spring
Viewed through ancient animal guise

Ameliorate
That’s what they say in
Small town America.

I want to live a swan dive
Into life’s ecstasies
I want to give a golden mind
To my importunate son.
If only one thing let it be
Unmeasured freedom

Boundless in infinite capacities
Animal and primitive in a sort
High mind seeing past
The mountains of orange grass
In the native highland
Buffalo tribe.
Smoke the hookahs
Night after night
What does it matter for
They too did die.

Ecclesiastes
Had some things to say about wisdom
In his day.

Drink yourself silly from the clay bowl
Made from naked laborers
Ghostly in the dawn
Like temporal mist
Sweet yet valueless
A fine tenure
To inherit
A creator of life.

We, too, will perish in the
Dandelion winds,
Youthful scream
In our dawn hours
It is so easy to see the light.

Dark red earthy desert town
Of nomads and
Sanded elders
Beaten and absent
In the eagle high noon.

What do we not know?
Where is there to go?

I pray to God give me art in my life!
God, please, render to me!
I need color and bliss
Immortal friend
To the jaded man.
Life and happiness
To all that ask
The holy Sheebah
Is generous
To deserving infidels.

(I am the dreamer
The holy sloth
I ask God for kinship
He gives me instant enlightenment)

“O Great creator of being
Grant us one more hour to
perform our art
And perfect our lives”
-J.M.

Speak easy, child of the sun
You too will be great.
Stand tall
They taste death on
Easy red beaches

Free us all! they cry,
But all I can do is shake my head;
For you must free yourself.

II.

Sing to me a happy song
Before you leave for sea.
The monsters and mystics
Are wretched and plentiful
Out there
Send me letters
Fore I cannot go.
Why not? You too will die.
Sing me a song please.
I.

Do not lie, you have made love
In the grove
On a purple evening
When the wine smells particular
Rich in the air.
I tell you, it was of no regret to mine
When we made wretched love aside the vine
Grasp me now, kiss the swine
Now is your moment
To dance with time
Don’t forget
Keep the rhyme
You get a line
And then the pleasure is mine.

Teethe babe, in the air,
While I swing around on my
Treasure’d mare
Someday you should understand fair
The ebony horse is sleek and rare
Feel its hair
Truly there is nothing more fine in the world
Than to own a horse?

I tell you you do not realize!
Why yes I do it is right before my eyes.
To take is to be happy
To live is to die.
Fore Ill must reach to those who
Look to the sky.
You agree I am right?

Rupture, slander, pay no heed
The ultimate goal is wondrous to see
Glistening capital
For you, but also for me.

I can make you a very rich man
Come with me, take my hand
Golden ring
Beautiful thing
Coveted prizes the millions sing
Taste of fame; same old game
Hollywood life drives him insane
Dolorous story of a nation
Tolerate your suffocation
You understand you’ll be a sensation
Decadent hero of a generation.

Cry out now
Whilst ye still alive,
Millennial child
Tragic and mild
Forgive me now
If we seem well-styled
We are not wild.