animal vegetable mineral
the mastered marvel is fast and invisible
they make it look so easy and it is…on paper
we artisans fashioning something from nothing that means something
we hammer on the anvil of song
we beat the molten music into weapons to pierce the aura
because priest equals cura
and no insurer is any surer than me
i catch ideas in the wind that blows thru the curtains
some tiny wight i know is on my side
each morning the songs are written and the poems composed
my 3 string guitar just hangs on a wall
and sometimes it groans like its bursting with song
what stops us i wonder from creating something beyond
beyond the reach of SHP even
what stays the hand on the verge of discovering some original truth
some new axiom disguised as a song painting
some new parable encoded within the poets delirious rants
some new breakthrough seen within a childs story
the long evening of religion still overshadows
the brief morning of science
anything is still theoretically possible within noble art
art music literature to uplift and affirm the dormant divinity in man
this is the only reason for what those masters have done and will do
we gasp at such and such…
why he has performed a partial recreation of the world…!
we cannot understand how this other fellow
manages to whisper our own secret thoughts
in an ear in our minds
the masters refine their movements to the slightest ghost of a touch
they are born with the power easily rekindled
the masters contain the darkness and the light
the masters reconcile the apparent opposites life and death
i am inspired by the shining brilliance of their works
their murals their symphonies their double albums
humanity chucks some prodigy at the glowering sky
the ego so swollen and filled with bad blood
at some time even the great masters may crash
fall from painting the cosmos on a ceiling
fall from a stage into the surging crowd below
fall from the roof of your little tuscan cottage
with the hazy gauzy summer light
constantly making you wonder : am i dreaming…?
still the mission must remain the enrichment of the soul
to live in constant wonder because everything blows your tidy mind
pride like summer then always before the fall
and then by saying precisely nothing you have said it all
a tambourine hit
a favourite brush
the texture of the paper and the way it influences everything else
the masters have more nuance than the skies have stars
ambiguity is a lifetimes work
the exploration of the smallest shades of the unfamiliar
the painting of your life
all the colours regraded and somehow the blue/purple is saturated
music remains the king of all art
it is untouchable in its power to dominate obsess or uplift the spirit
music invoking everything in just a few notes
the masters shook the jesus out of every incredible composition
the masters understand it all from the hugest to the most minute
as they glorify god and glorify the devil
in the complex strands they will weave
there is so much to keep in such brilliant minds
is it any wonder they become foggy and lose their way….?
like paul in tahiti stumbling through colour beds
or ravel with hypnotic simplicity that opens the door
or marc chagall who let it all be wherever it wanted
or john lennon whose piano was bitter and wise
every master an apparition on mundanity screen
looking for an oasis in religions wasteland and sciences just deserts
yet i am not guided by nothing at all
nor more so they who wield the most gifted vision
life is interpretable as you can see
the masters take life and they make it much larger
you wished you lived in that music or film
oh why cant life be like a song or a book….?
the masters intercept the image at face value
each enters the game on his or her own level
like archers who shoot for the heart of our world
apollo whose arrows were the deadliest music
volted bolts too sublime to perceive
so every genius holds a living flame in his hand
to illuminate dark ages and give them some hope
this ambiguous hope then i strive to convey
its a hope only glimpsed never held never touched
an unspecified glimmer among all that doubt
i cant buy any of the stories theyre selling
evolution or eden …..is that really the choice…?
i dont trust the religionists theyre always so wrong
they believe in things a child can see are stupid
our god isnt vengeful
we are not born in sin
and all of this was for us to groove about in
science has been changing its mind ever since it all began
not every miracle occurs in its crucibles and tubes
i’m sure some mysteries can never even be explained by mere men
so i keep on searching for the elusive beauty of ambiguous hope
may it fill all works of art with oomph!
