FIRE
The Gospel of Gossip
To fall in love with disguises
Reminds us
Of what is behind us
Of love of disguises
That which holds the fold
And blinds us
Mask of Masks
Masking
Our mask
Loving blindness
And disguises
Our disguises
Into guises
Poison of ignorant lament
Love of Fear
Fear of Love
To fall in love with disguises
Reminds us
Of what is behind us
The Mad House
The hands on the clock
Wave goodbye
The incessant ticking drones
Both stunning and strumming the strings
Of your mind
Laughter maddens
And madness laughs
Your Professor wears a green jacket
One of the Masters
He spends his time in parlors
Ragtime in tune
Hops and foam filled mug
Smell of smoke ingrained in the Persian rugs
Cards in front of his eyes
Only he knows what he holds
Only he knows why
In the middle of the den
Stands a statue of a marble ram
It's horn unraveled diagonally
A cobra splits the horns
While a hawk resides on it's back
The patrons spin around it
As if this house was Mecca
Blood thirsty women crowd these spaces
You see Salome in their eyes
Alas, loving them
Takes zero effort
You don't even have to try
They worship the phallus
Right out in the open
Yet, to them the yoni
Is their real devotion
The room is circular
And the stakes are high
If love had a tangible meaning
We'd all then know 'why'
A man wearing a peacock feathered hat
Yells out of the chaotic stupor
"I swear to God while drunk
I am not a Drunk God!"
This brings forth unbridled laughter
Another man bellows out
"Everyday the God's birth a son
And every night The Devil's reclaim him
As their chosen one"
Only the maidens laughter rolls on
Them being the very ones
Who retain the son
They indulge in his flesh
While he still remains alive
If they cannot master him
By sex or charms
Their only option is to demean him
Cripple him and emasculate him
I've seen it happen countless times
Though every man has a feminine side
Salome hates to see it come to life
Men want all men
To be a clone of his personal 'him'
No one loves a unique hymn
To men to master is to control
To women to master
Is to eat and devour whole
The Professor lays down his hand
A Royal Flush
Both the ladies and gentlemen sing praises
Though he knows nothing changes
No matter how much the crowd loves him
They hate him just as much
Men wake up every mourning
And women devour his flesh in the fury of the night
Purification through putrefaction
Raised to the highest
Through the lowest form
The Professor greets newcomers at the entrance
His grin widens like a Cheshire Cat
As yet another foot walks in the door
"Good evening my good fellow!
I see you too have been committed
At the very least
Know you will never be bored!
I asked you to give me your Life
Yet, you gave me your Death
Great googly moogly!
You have passed The Professors only test!
Welcome to The Mad House
I do hope you enjoy your stay!
Only one law keeps us
From order and chaos's pitiful disdain
That is to say:
'There shall be no escaping
No matter how sincerely
You will ever try'
If Love had a tangible meaning
Then we'd all then know why"
We Don't Know Love
Experience
The best friend of mankind
Expression engendering
Perspective endearing
Subjective desire
Of the infinite objective miseries
That seem to fade away
Just as quickly as they transpire
Act now while you can!
Know the whore of self-preservation
Her name is separation
Her man is known by sensation
Their son is beauty
All the beauty of mankind
The possibilities of the two poles
To the fools
They bind
To the wise
They unwind
It is your choice
Of what you wish to find
Psychically entranced
We dance our Earthly dance
Is this Death?
Is this Life?
We ask ourselves in stride
Vanity is in short supply
For the ones who think
That they might have died
It is said
Only the wise
Can truly know what Love is
Maybe because they understand
That they will never understand
Love is not meant to behold
But to be let go
Cosmic Tribalism
Time is frozen without the future
At best it's just a painting on a wall
Paralyzed
For all the shape shifters to behold
Do you know what has been done to you and I?
Me either
All I know is his story
And that story has no future
But is just a frozen painting in time
That incases you and I
A simple trick of the mind
Has trapped us completely in the past
With no hope of a future
One could even dare to say
That there is no more collective imagination
To the highest degree
A mental prison that could last
For all of eternity
What we truly need is to imagine a day
When we paint the White House black
And make it up to the community
For putting us all on some form of crack
Time, you see
Is that black mirror on the wall
It used to be clear as day
Now all we see is night
Sadly mistaking it for the light
Someone or something
Has pulled a curtain over our eyes
And we have mistaken it for time
They say it's made of numbers
But that is just not true
Simply put all that binds you and me
Is a type of string
Some type of super, space plus gravity device
That ties and binds
Crystalizes lies
Into a cosmic tapestry
Ever flowing with tribalistic hieroglyphics
A fabric of magical design
Displaying a dance of death
That can never truly die
This tapestry has long been complete
One being knitted It All
Uraeus on head
And stogie in his mouth
With one single tear in his eye
He tossed his last cigar at the wall
Igniting the living fabric
And burning It all up
The fire didn't stop
Not only did he burn up the tapestry
He burnt down the whole goddamn house
The only thing that did not burn
Was one single cosmic computer
It gathered the ashes and formed it
Into about a billion different CD's
Burning them all onto It's hard drive
This now artistic, magical machine
Took these sacred ashes
And mixed them in with some magic paint
The most glorious masterpiece of All was made
One that never stopped moving
But couldn't truly said to be alive
For those beings
Who reside only in the Loka of Parvati
Can visit the Museum of Time
All us other beings
Ain't nothing more than a painting
On some impossible wall
Painted with the ashes of The All
This is It
An Egyptian daydream
Quetzalcoatl's pendulum swinging
Crashing and burning
That One cyclical loop
Beyond all possibilities of Life
One single escape route
Through singing, meaning and thinking
Insanity eclipsed and fully realized
A Sunday evening stroll
Through the 9th gate
And just like that
Kali has met her mate
Did you know?
That in a way
Gambling represents the christ
777 appears
And the machine presents to him the prize
It's All that's left of anything
Gravity
In Search of What is True
Build pyramids
Not skyscrapers
Long for more
Than the world that you perceive
The mystery of love
Is longing
And I long for more
In any and every way
Gather your tools
And begin preparing today
Remember
Your wealth can't float away with you
After you die
Why not go in search
Of the only thing that will never leave
Why even waste your time
Or energy
On that which doesn't persist
The richest men you'll ever meet
Don't own a single thing
The Pharaohs didn't get lost in the luxury of life
But in the mystery of it
Don't look at your sad life and sigh
Look at the bigger picture and cry
Out there is a grand orchestra
Conducted by an intelligence
That can't be known by mere words
There it all is
Right before your eyes
Go out and discover meaning
The wheel is always turning
Always more to be knowing
Know that things aren't so cut and dry
Things are wet and full of life
Multidimensional and paradoxical in nature
Complexities infused infinitely inside every atom
Yet so simple a child could understand
In your sandbox you shall come across many things
People and places that have mysterious meanings
That will bring out amazing things in you
Don't long for happiness
Long for what is true
And if you happen to find it
At least find the courage
To walk up and say hi
Matter
Does not matter, need not be
I took a shower
But I still fucking stink
Does not matter, need not be
At the very least
I am free