monoatomic gold and silver colloids
negative gearing?nahmy brain lights up in a thousand white spotsoooh its gone all warm behind my eyesall softall gooey in my mainbrain membrane terraplanecan you dig this gold?can you silver my tongue?can you understand that now i understandno no not everythingthat is not to be understoodit is unfathomable as the future we barely glimpseit is as untouchable as the past that tears this present from our handswendy the white witch said to meyou should now have a staffi said i thought that was my bassno she said as she cut n pasted my etheric organsshe shook her head as she aligned the flow of my chakrasand made my little pingis to zingybut my bass i protestits full of all that energy and music n sweat n blood and dont forget holy rocknroll that our loving god gave usyes yes she smiled but it is not your staffa staff? …i wonderedwow gold screws of light descend down my spinethey return anticlockwise out through my huge crown chakra already half out of my headit rebounds back downclockwisea gold screwing light as i am rooted to the earthwhat does the gold do in my headmy minds minemy velvet goldmind lined in fools gold and gilt tripsmananyway thats all cleared up
negative gearing?
nah
my brain lights up in a thousand white spots
oooh its gone all warm behind my eyes
all soft
all gooey in my mainbrain membrane terraplane
can you dig this gold?
can you silver my tongue?
can you understand that now i understand
no no not everything
that is not to be understood
it is unfathomable as the future we barely glimpse
it is as untouchable as the past that tears this present from our hands
wendy the white witch said to me
you should now have a staff
i said i thought that was my bass
no she said as she cut n pasted my etheric organs
she shook her head as she aligned the flow of my chakras
and made my little pingis to zingy
but my bass i protest
its full of all that energy and music n sweat n blood and
dont forget holy rocknroll that our loving god gave us
yes yes she smiled but it is not your staff
a staff? …i wondered
wow
gold screws of light descend down my spine
they return anticlockwise
out through my huge crown chakra
already half out of my head
it rebounds back down
clockwise
a gold screwing light as i am rooted to the earth
what does the gold do in my head
my minds mine
my velvet goldmind
lined in fools gold and gilt trips
man
anyway
thats all cleared up
and so with open arms we must still believe…..
jesus that last frame looks weird, huhnow watch operetta below
jesus that last frame looks weird, huh
now watch operetta below
mithras palaganza
oh i knew you would ask me for the rest of my talei a poor slavewho has worked hard his whole lifelabouring in the fieldout in the etruscan duskswooning under moons of muskunder the long dreamy hazes of middaysthat drift through these lives of mineoh the songsthe grapeoh the girls and their wild ritesderanged by wine and secret magical herbswhen venus herself appears all radiant and goldenwhen the summer is high and days are longand water in the river runs sweet and warmand stars above glow white dazzled yet still so distantand we sleep so deeply so alive so alivethe music that i hear sad strings plucked so strangelyand the funny little steps of our dancingoh would you understand them?the faun comes kicking thru the woods finally at lastwith his pipe and his goatish waysmaenads yes i have seen them raving fucking madunder some spell i suppose they have lost their shameand we drink some more and we laugh some moreand the music picks up speeda dull drum has begun to thump in my templesi see lights that are not therehands touch me everywherei reach out stumbling laughing… who is there..?why i cant see in this upside down twilight…i never ask myself..i feel lips pressed against mei feel the wine in my mouth slosh round my tongueoh the bloody grape!a small voice says my boy theyve put something in your wineas i start to slowly spin round and roundi clutch at trees and fieldsi clutch at strange faces and soft naked fleshies i clutch at the blurry pink pink pink mooni clutch at my name but its lostwho will remember it one week after i’m gone…?who will hear the songs i thought would go on for foreverwho will see these impressions i tookthat i thought would last and lastwho will […]
oh i knew you would ask me for the rest of my tale
i a poor slave
who has worked hard his whole life
labouring in the field
out in the etruscan dusk
swooning under moons of musk
under the long dreamy hazes of middays
that drift through these lives of mine
oh the songs
the grape
oh the girls and their wild rites
deranged by wine and secret magical herbs
when venus herself appears all radiant and golden
when the summer is high and days are long
and water in the river runs sweet and warm
and stars above glow white dazzled yet still so distant
and we sleep so deeply so alive so alive
the music that i hear sad strings plucked so strangely
and the funny little steps of our dancing
oh would you understand them?
the faun comes kicking thru the woods finally at last
with his pipe and his goatish ways
maenads yes i have seen them raving fucking mad
under some spell i suppose they have lost their shame
and we drink some more and we laugh some more
and the music picks up speed
a dull drum has begun to thump in my temples
i see lights that are not there
hands touch me everywhere
i reach out stumbling laughing… who is there..?
why i cant see in this upside down twilight…i never ask myself..
i feel lips pressed against me
i feel the wine in my mouth slosh round my tongue
oh the bloody grape!
a small voice says my boy theyve put something in your wine
as i start to slowly spin round and round
i clutch at trees and fields
i clutch at strange faces and soft naked fleshies
i clutch at the blurry pink pink pink moon
i clutch at my name but its lost
who will remember it one week after i’m gone…?
who will hear the songs i thought would go on for forever
who will see these impressions i took
that i thought would last and last
who will understand how close i was
or what it took to get this far?
my name and my feet elude me
i fall facedown in the softness of my fantasies
eyes peer in to mine
they change into the eyes of an owl
these eyes that peer into mine
boring into my head and watching me squirm
and i push at nothing in the darkness
in the delirium of my life where every whisper is a lie
and the night has a thousand eyes
and how i was bound to go down
down down down to the bed with a shining glass sound
and how i was never found
never found again answering to my name
my name means something like dream
but more like a dream you cant remember
its a sad name its true
but still i can never remember it
not after all the wine
rich deep red wine
darkly oozing from a split skin
full of warp and woof
full of oblivion so warm and true
my name means something like that i was told
a dream within a grove
an arbour of flighty pheasants and vain peacocks
a story without a teller
just like the necropolis outlined against the nightsky