is there meaning in suffering

or are we simply suffering

random lifeform on a lucky planet

bizarre microbe evolved into poetry-writing monster

that primal pool of cosmic goo struck by lightnin’

vishnu dreams up planets floating out of his pores fully formed

weird visitors shaping us in their images

children from the future

ghosts before their time

ive got a feeling this is all a joke

ive got a joke this is all a feeling

so i got my feelers out sensing the atmosphere

i am bound to a certain extent by my age my gender my race my belief

time and space and race prevent much understanding

fragments come thru from someone unknown

i want to understand at least myself but i remain impenetrable

i want to change the settings but the panel is inaccessible

i see no way in i see no way out

the manipulation of opposites may contain a clue

but a clue to what……?

how do you manipulate opposites anyway

well you stretch them apart and in the middle is something else

and the mind held half on half off

flickering between the two opposite things or qualities

suddenly temporarily jammed open and in comes X

oh sk you say i can hear you what doth X equal

oh ho ho but i tried to describe X for 31 one years in sound n song

childe there is no simple equation for this thing X

but X feeds something inside your many selves

you your heart your mind your ethereal body your sexual desire

oh my god if i but could freely dispense X they would nail me up

i would be taken away in a big black car for a lonely ride

i would be found miles away insane or appearing and vanishing

everyone wants that X

everyone that had it never says no again

so these other ones try to learn to manipulate opposites to obtain X

but X is illusive and elusive and allusive

hard to sift thru all of the dross to find theres not a trace

no nothing in your test tube or philtre

the more you push

until eventually travelling in an opposite direction

youve become youre own opposite

with all the things that come with that

the humdrum surrounds us choking our senses

the mundane alternating between cozy and stifling

the momentary pull of jesus or opium

the jolt of injury the explosion of orgasm

the hurtling train of the thought in my mind

derailed it goes plowing through the fields of your memories

some call this madness some call it vision

some call it a nuisance and block it all out

the afternoon has turned nasty

the electricity builds up in our cortex and sky

love charged storm ….will it emit X

maybe indirectly maybe as an accident

X will be released in some gland in the cyclonic eye

washing right through us like red dye thru a cloth

crashing down on the buildings and towns

the human race comes alive reborn from the earth

children resembling seraphs

reassembled from spirit and atom of yore

convulsed up at the beginning of time

(i laugh to think it was that long ago)

spat out by creation whatever it was

formed by some god

unknown by a name