the pain becomes your best friend,
your shrunken out of reach,
been out there saving toadstools,
when the princess is a Peach,

I caught me a falling star,
flickering to be fed,
and that horny old reptile,
I'm gonna jump upon his head,

It's all cause of me, (you know it's not)
 all cause of me, (you know its not your fault)

it's my fault for trying to love, (not your fault)
it's my fault for trying to breathe,(not your fault)
my fault for even dreaming of,(not your fault)
a world where the terrors don't teethe,

a world where a human can just BE,

shackled to a famish of form,
for a crime spree of hoping lovingly,
cackled through a stigmatic storm,
as the hornets and wasps won't let me bee,
in the middle of the night,
 in the middle alone,

in the middle of the night I'm lonely,
sometimes I even cry myself to sleep,
they've set my program pain to plight,
it'll be hurting me tonight,

in the middle of the night I'm horny,
self hypnosis keeps myself in me,
here I am thinking purer thoughts,
here I'm triplicating dots,

...

when you say it's alright to go in circles,
 cause your already there,
 and your already square,
when you say it's alright to go in circles,
 cause your already there,
 and your already square,

and I say: What do you mean?
 What do you mean?
 What do you mean?

when you say its alright to go in circles,
if your already square and your already there,
its alright to go in circles,
if your already square and your already there...


S' Not Alright

Hey there,
 hey there,
 hey there,
 hey there...Yooohooo,

hey there, 
hey there,
 hey there. 
hey there,
FIGHT FAIR,
Yooohooo,

Hey there,
 hey there,
 hey there,
 hey there...Yooohooo,

you've an army of darkness and I haven't one friend though,
but you know not,
what I learned living on the streets and playing Nintendo,
you know not,

Gnosis is intrinsic, 
and I'm confessing,
I learnt it in comic books,
and professional wrestling,

but with all you got,
how come you know not?????????

Rock for Palestine

The disciple sees the corpse,
 in the charnel ground,
one day dead or two days dead,
or three days around,
frozen blue like corpses do,
this is our shared fate,
and my body too,
 will not escape this fate,

devoured by worms and germs,
just flesh and sinew,
and pelvis bones,
heaped or alone,
disciple stay true,

thus the corpse he contemplates,
transcending all loves and hates,
clinging not to this world,

and I'll be:

loving no one and meditating on the 9 kinds of corpses,
and your feces and phlegm,
saying: "ain't she loathsome?"
and "don't you know some?"
"that's  Nivarana and I'll never love again."

for what would you give,
to never have been born?
no more lives to live,
just tearing out the thorn,
for all that you see,
 is a reflection of your falsity,

these thoughts that I think aren't me,
nor this skin that I'm in,
nor this moot emotion,

when I become nothing at all...

then the truth that I'm weening,
will finally have meaning 
form a clockwork beast,
to a sacred surcease,
 
When I become nothing at all,
then I'll finally be ME,

Nivarana

Was walking down the street,
minding my feet,
I saw a worm on the turn,
on the concrete he burned,
and he'd be stepped on or worse,
dying there of thirst,
so I brought him to clean earth,
where he could prove his worth,

I thought and I could see,
that he was like me,
toiling in throes,
beneath a murder of crows,

you see...

I was born a slave,
 in a communal grave,
a few billion and me,
this land of the free,
and I was used and abused,
so I'm bruised and contused,
and I'll never forget,
how I've sowed my regret,

but my daughter...
what has she done to anyone?
but be born,
 in the scorn,
 of the thorns,

It's not right,
and I don't want to fight,
but I don't know what to do...

but if I was you and you were me,
your majesty,
I'd set you free,
I'd set her free,

so please give release,
 to this beleaguered beast,
and his song for the sun,
 his song for the sun,

it begs your pardon,
for the trouble he's starting,
it's just his daughter,
they've still got her,
and it's not right,
and he don't wanna fight,

but he don't know what to do....

I beg your pardon

(i keep doing minor alterations and reposting...i'm bad with computers you know and have a hard time bringing all the different parts out...these thing are getting really complex on me...anyways...let's start a band!) 

Soma,
Soma I rot,
my horizon bleeds out a sunny rise,

and I,
I'd look pretty,
if you'd close your eyes...

...ain't it worth some tries?

Soma,
Soma I rot,
have I told you I think that you're fay?
and you wear my scar tissue,
like it was a white dress,
made out of the month of may...

...all birch trees burying church keys,

Soma,
Soma I rot,
read it in a mirror,
or a ten ton tear,
that you're wringing,
with your singing...

...and what's a tickle trunk,
to a flammable monk?

cause I,
I know why,
why they all just do it away,
and you,
you do too,
then you sing what no one will say,
and it hurts me,
each time you curtsy,

I'm where nobody wants to go,
she stabs me with a stereo,
I dreamed that her trailer park,
was turned into a museum shrine,
and i was in there on my shake-of-legs,,
holding the sacred cereal bags,
someone had slashed them open,
in hindsight I think it was she,
she appeared high on a top ten list,
warned me about an iron fist,
sure it has a limp wrist,
but it's police sure can frame...

Soma...I Rot

you ask: what is evil?
it's just a valuation,
status upheaval,
darkness and degradation,
does the boll weevil,
...its just another name to drop,

and goodness?...I'm guessing,
it's whatever's convenient,
bloody your blessing,
and let your light LIE lenient,
good is impressing,
see me as I want to appear,

quickly: take it slow,
turn over the sand,
learn that you don't know,
if you would understand,
we blame it on each other,
mutually,
evil is the other,
sounds good to me,

I hear a hero here, he's chanting,
 the viral feed,
the greatest good is profits panting,
that's all I need,

(who are you?)

I'm my position in this line,
and nothings good that isn't mine,
 
why was i afraid to turn off the light,
in my room alone at night?
did I fear,
what would appear,
 in the mirror?

quickly: take it slow,
turn over the sand,
learn that you don't know,
if you would understand,
we blame it on each other,
mutually,
evil is the other,
sounds good to me,

Serfs Up

I'm your sense repenter,
we go up and on and all together,
I'm your stain glass center dissenter,
lets sink the brink and drink the weather!

inhale hale hail we sip the season,
our nonsense kneading beyond reason,

ought autumn be the key,
to be opening we?

carved runes shaved into the ale,

the river told her name to me,
her name is Peony,

she's pultritude, platinum, and pale

in pant 'o' mime the waves part laden
the whispered wisp of fairy maiden,

up and on and all together,

speak to me,
Peony,

no prestidigitation,
I'm all hopped up on asexual tension,
this transcendental sensation elation ,
would you? could you ? share my ascension?

a wedding dress of saffron dreams you,
the testament of trees redeems you,

making miracle to me,
light the Nyd fire where the roads cross,
taking my tears I pull myself free,
prithy to a lonely coin toss,

and every lash of longing lesson,
says blight must be betrothed to blessing,

up and on and all together,

Peony

holy, holy holy, 
what's the word?
sacred, sacred, absurd, absurd, absurd,
let it be heard,

holy, holy, holy,
say the name,
Aeon, Aeon, Aeon,
ansur, ansur, answer
and again...

Peony

I don't want narrative,
give me nonsensualty,
broken words brought back together,
to bend reality,

I'm Wantless Grammar-growl,
make me in melodeep,
rise into hypnopompic,
do my waking asleep,

do my dreaming awake,
fulfill my harmonyd,
I've got my stilling center,
I've got your stars to seed,

I'm Yourling Canter-call,
(ties burdens in a bow)
I'll be all pretty please,
if you'll be I-told-you-so,

Hexagram 25...

Yourling canter-Call

Summer-Salt

"worthless" said winter,
said winter to the spring,
and every little thing,

"all good must  dissenter"
...then so too must the bad,
it's the only thing you've had,

so long,
 you've run away, 
from your true song,
 and your sunny day,

aren't you worth the while?
aren't you ready to smile?

you know I am...
I know you are...

such pretty flowers,
adorn the poison of the plant,
on a tongue that can't recant,

the things it devours,
tied to the tether of the taste,
and now it's written on your face,

so long,
 you've run away, 
from your true song,
 and your sunny day,

Datura

(song improvised by my 6 year old daughter Dahlia...singing and guitar by Dahlia and back ups by me. She did a whole album on the spot with these really cool mystical lyrics!)

the stars at night can be big and bright,
all you need is a big sky at night,
you gotta be bright!

at the darkest time of the night,
 you gotta be bright!
you gotta be bright!

you have to be bright to know,
 which way to go,
you have to be bright to say,
everything in a one way,

how can you know?
how do you know which way to go?
how do you know when you can fly?
and if you can touch the sky?

it all matters in a way that you say,
you have to say and believe yourself,
that's how you fly,
in the beautiful sky,

you gotta fly away, away,
you have to fly away,
you get to fly away,
when you grow your wings,
you will see an adventure!

and if you look up at the stars,
you can see a mystery,
just waiting to be found,
and that is how it will begin,
away,
but when you grow your wings someday,
that is what it will be like,
in a way!

Gotta Be Bright!

Dead End...

dead end love song,
upon itself it falls,
nothing and nowhere, 
outside these four walls,

I got no yes, no, or maybe,
I sing my songs to my songs,
though I wonder if it's true,
that I've been waiting all this while,
sharpening my smile for you....

Dead end...

spring comes early,
my verb said to my noun,
but if she doesn't fear her shadow,
why does she stay 'neath ground?

and Angels are just abortions on the rebound,
you can't always keep us out,
and though you won't take my lift,
thank you for your gift,
 of doubt,

Dead end,

necessity is such a sweet sword,
so when, it's broken,
it will yet be reforged,
gorgeousity of jagged edges gouge my mind,
so I must go lick my wounds..
but I'll talk with you soon,
as long as you sing the signs,

Shhhh...

I''ll be adding a percussion track...so I'll post the lyrics then...not that anyone's paying attention...

Dandelion Graveyard

mollify the morning,
mended to a maybe maze of cut-out-carefully's,
all am I adorning,
flesh for scorning,
this clocking tick of urine and feces,

even oddballs get their bounce around,
but no one seems to see the things he see's...

eyes shuttered, 
cries cluttered,
nightmarriage,
disparage,

dreams drenched in worse than dying death,
with babies black upon their breath,
humans hither to wither,
in the septic slither,
paving gold on human mold,
and human luggage bought and sold,

longing lights,
but I'm not right,
plant my pain the past,
the more I reach,
for blest beseech,
the longer I cast,
shadow shapes,
that drape the gape,
of my black holy heart,

stars collapse with rasp of gasp,
...oh let me shine through,

the inkling of a twinkling eye,
still knows the throes of tear-drip-dry,
my heart to bleed forevermore,
thy knock unlock my dead end door,

visions unveil a path putrid and pale,
monster machine famine feeds on dreams,
wonder of wings parches on my streams,
to unstifle the stars long left,
so still born brittle and bereft,
the dream devourer daunts me down,
and I must stand on sinking ground,

mausoleum milking maid,
greyful land of a wasting off white widow,
pulse emulses till you wade
your woes in the lows where the ghasting one goes,

suicideways,
don't you go that way,
just put it off until tomorrow tears,
trickling time to tongue a morbid mime,
you'll get yours,
and soon they will get theirs,
outside birds bleat bliss,
the day-bringer,
he welcomes you to keep uncommon cares,

self spire, holds fire, in water's attire,
the spheres celeste churn in your chest,
no longer longing like the rest,
just one sip on the lip of our lakes sweet sip,
yet your ripples reach the furthest shores,
so raise that vibration of yours,

what you were is dead and gone,
step out of your tomb,
who will sing your sacred songs from the skies to the gloom?
who will scream those sacred songs all teeming to life?

only you will fulfill those fathoms of fate,

beyond death your breath intones,
the sacred truth so long unknown,
no words could ever cage it's clasp.
held heaving in your grieving grasp,

stars scream awake,
for the sake of forsake,
pulling the weeds,
whittling out from your deed,
weighing your worth,
wrought form your death till birth,

they echo to the furthest sun,
the lies you've spoke,
the wrong you've done,
done shrivel like a shirking glance,
that can't accept a second chance,

AWAKEN TO YOUR TRUE SELF

Maybe Maze


Magdalena Mirror was a saint and a seer,
 and a sin-eating scapegoat divine,
 for her sickness brought health and her need it brought wealth,
 and her love?... it brought never you mind,

With her mind over matters and her torn blessed tatters, 
 and her moth dusted garbage bag gown,
 will she hold a whole nation in rapt contemplation
 of the angles that fangle her frown,

She was swaddled in thorns from the day she was born,
 when they plastered her into the casting,
 in her stead it is said that the blood she had bled
 was bestower of life ever-lasting,

At the cleft of her cough, cadavers became soft,
 and her sneezing caused freezing to warm,
 with a vomiting wretch, true life's breath did she fetch,
 through the puking rebuke of a charm,

The reprise of her cries could unpry blinded eyes,
 so they kept her in burdens bereft,
 and they opened their ears as they drank from her tears, 
 which could heal both the dumb and the deaf,

the refrain of her pain could make one young again,
 so the Everyone lent her its ear,
 and the song that she sang was a high-hunger-pang,
 from a place beyond hatred or fear,

A place where the There, from the trees to the air,
 is calling, clothed in your own thought,
 again and again, the familiar refrain,
 in a language the tongue has forgot,

Jain Vangles 


Jain Vangles

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