muse, am i losing it?
theres a hand on my shoulder
faces in old photographs
the cold sea knocks the breath out of me
the sand is viscous
everything trying to suck me under
nothing suckles me anymore
i have ingested 2 grams of life
i am seeing things
flowers burst forth in bloom before my
astonished eyes
music fills me with joy
a package arrives from someone i glimpsed in a film
handed on to me now
oophoi emits from my music device
i crave to thank the man who delivered me
of this space music in san francisco
im smitten
goji juice washes away my 51 year hangover
the beautiful lord vishnu preserves and protects
the happy lord ganesha smooths our way
that someone filled with so much love
could create all this just astounds me
intelligent design…?
every tiny fucking piece of sand lovingly
dreamed up by our god
who sends us miracle upon miracle
every golden day
the sun in the sky
the moon at night
the sacred rivers
the elementals
everything has spirit
nothing which has lived will ever cease living
nothing that is dead will ever live
like a loving father,
and i realise this now…
like a loving father
wincing at the pain we must endure
no way we can understand everything now
like trying to explain the precepts of surrealism
to baby bumper
no way we can dig the whole picture from here
i am in love with everybody and all things
because they are you
always the trees
the trees withold their meanings from me
how many trees have i myself been
how many times
over n over
did my soul stagger in wood
my roots deep in earth
i groaned to move
and in secret ceremonies
i did leave my bark n branches
and i frolicked with other spirits
in the arcadian night
which was warm and dreamy
when men cut down trees
ah……
what are we doing?
how can all these trees be cut down
its like cutting off your own fingers
lord if you would fill me with magic
i could stop this
how can i love the rapers and pillagers ?
i would blast them
and become as bad as them
everything seems to have an opposite effect
you push one way
you go the other
oh the arcadian evenings
the mysteries on the tip of my tongue even now
im remembering everything now
were you ever there?
how you would love me to invoke those nights
with my words
how deep you would like to go
into the arcadian night
and the lemurian nights
the jungle all around waiting
and the nineveh nights
and the atlantean night
and all the nights
and the things that occur
in the darkness
the sweet sweet warmth of the others
the rituals, the wine
yet it eludes me
as always
clouds outside in shapes of dragons
the children have a fishtank
bananas are expensive after the cyclone
eve and aurora are becoming always more beautiful
words music pictures fill my head
the “straights” are back in my life
im a hippy
i was hooked at thirteen
i had no chance
i love long hair
i love flowers
i love pot and acid
i love peace and vegetarianism
i love nature especially the wonderful trees
i love the deep mysterious ocean
i love the wide open skies
i love space rock in all its forms
i am a spirit buried in flesh
i long for the vastness of space and eternity
its 1 15 on an eternal saturday afternoon
sydney sunk in its hedonism
its bridges
its beaches
its gangs
its ugly suburbs
its beautiful leafy esplanades
its nightlife strip clubs brothels private booths
its criminals and local colourful identities
its rocknroll stars on the dole
its geniuses driving taxis
and its idiots running the big monster companies
sydney swallow me up this afternoon
we’re gonna walk down the promenade
and i need to be swallowed by you
and i want no more significance
no more extra sensory overloading stuff
i just want to walk and talk
thats all
the sky has changed
clouds appear
over and out