posted on August 28, 2011 at 11:53 pm

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!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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