eel guitars swim in my mind
razor sharp notes that cut your fingers a deal
in the deep hole in my past
in that thrusting darkness of my conscience
in that bamboo shantytown collapsing
in that little something i had put away
yeah bend that string you thing
up into another key
an other register
that melody will go on forever
the sound will remain but growing smaller
infinitessimally smaller each time
like the music on the titanic
still playing over the atlantic
hovering in a sad cloud of mist
everything goes on and on
and everything else falls apart
eventually
mmmm
a word to consider
eventually
i
the lemurian
i know this word
because i have waited waited waited
so long
so so long
so long ago
so far away
when it was so easy
never cold
never old
never told either
masters of this world
you talk about music…….
our musicians could call down the rain with song
we hunted the beasts with our music
we took lands with our beautiful sounds
men were wounded by the notes in a scale
women were singers and harpists and dancers
our women danced up storms
our women could pull down a fully armoured warrior
with one flowing movement
our women were so beautiful that the stars appeared
they dressed in gossamer and vivid silk
arrowheaded priestess with divine chord
women who sing the lovely words
theyre still out there their songs
songs about the love of the earth for a sky
and ammon and isis
and venus and bel
and krsna and radha
and our gods walked among us
in deep jungle groves
the drums remorseful voice
the beat now faint
weird snatches of melodies
the songs the slaves sing
the songs of the children
about the snakeman and the fat little babies
about the monkey and the golden disc
about the ghosts of the treepeople
sometimes
yes indeed
i hear the words of these songs again
and i laugh and laugh
it all comes back to me
now
lemuria
lost in the lost world
overgrown
over run
underneath the years of neglect
everything goes on
everything else just falls apart