"where the air was never extreme, which for rain had a little silver dew, which of itself and without labour, bore all pleasant fruits"

After a weary journey
Our faith revealed
The Shining Isle

Where the wounded king was healed
Land of the undying
Their ancient glittering eyes all seeing
All foes long gone
Fear and worry undone
Graceful,quiet, deep browed
Long fingered hands
Stars and jewels chiming in silvered hair
As they walk those quiet paths

Over the water suddenly calm
We saw that glow
A light shining from the highest tower
The bells tolling from far away

Then with regret
Which made our throats clench with swallowed tears
We turned our hulls away
Back to the shadowed mortal land
Where the armies of the night
Struggle in unending battle
Broken plains strewn with bodies
Where the grey faceless men hold weapons
Dark with power

We always knew
Deep Down
This is the place
Where we belong
Where we belong

Avalon

The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
J. Morrison

AR-15, 100 shot drum magazine
.40 cal Glock semi-auto
Full body armor, riot helmet
Yes, I'm ready for the show

Yes, after all those years
Being the good, smart boy
Getting good marks
Always being polite
Pablo has finally invited me
To the "Magic Theatre"

Now all the Steppenwolves of my mind
Begin to run, teeth dripping with blood
Laughing and howling as they begin the hunt

Power vibrates through me
To the throbbing of the weapons
The screaming of the prey
Until all the magazines are empty

And I'm left alone again
Just the police asking the meaningless questions
And far away the Steppenwolf
Runs through the shadows.

HEAT

At first it was sort of like a dog lying next to the bed
Panting
My head was warm and without any covers I was
Sweating
The pillow was damp, the breathless air would not
Move

I tried to remember the cold, clear nights of stars
Crackling
But I felt my tongue drying out in the stagnant air
Swollen

So now, we live in the big heat bubbling like a
Furnace
Everyday we feel it like a weight, like we might be
Guilty

In Iowa, the corn is dying in July, no ears are
Opening
The frogs have burrowed back into the cracked mud
Hoping

On the freeway, the cars shimmer without motion
Melting
On the baking hills, the anguished forests now
Flaming
The rivers shrunken to dusty rocks, fish
Dying

When I cry to the angels at the end of all Roads
Begging
Praying for some relief, somewhere in the ashes
Drifting
They forbid me with their living swords of fire
Burning

Summer Solstice

"Everybody knows that the change is coming
"Everybody knows that the deck is stacked"
Leonard Cohen

In Colorado, the Cache La Poudre is burning
That's where they hid the gunpowder
Has it blown yet?

In the Southeast Asia Enterprise Zone
The suicide nets are ready for another night's harvest
Do we understand that our beautiful electric screens
Are polished with blood?

In Syria, the death squads are arming
For another day in the abattoir
Everyone is ready for the bodies

I called out to you in the night
I dreamed you loved me
From the bottom of your soul
In the morning, your e-mail address
Was blocked, texts came  back forlorn

The earth is crying out
But Jimi is so long gone
No one understands
And the wind howls alone

In the land of plenty
We're all tucked into our corners
Of the unlimited cage match
Our abs are ripped
Our tattoos look good
But our eyes are empty.

Winter is coming.

Falling (1)


I can still remember the climb out of darkness
It was aching slow
Many times I stopped
There were good holds sharp cut
Hands jambing in cracks that were cool
A ledge for resting
Friends showing me a better line
But I was afraid
Behind, below the emptiness of the abyss
Like a mouth opening
Darkness breathing
Still I came to a high point
And really viewed my surround
For the first time

Crazy Escherian stairs and lines
Cracks and climbs
Exploded from my gaze
Destroying every piece of knowledge
Every safe passage gone
Paisleys of twisting patterns
Purple reds, greens, orange
Twisting into a cacophony of images, bodies
Thoughts both shimmering and unborn

And my pinnacle
My granite stand
Dissolving into sand

With the panic of my tortured lungs wheezing
My heart pounding like some ancient broken bell
I leaped,
Hands desperately clutching
And held onto something I hoped was strong
I closed my eyes as it gradually dissolved
And heard the exhalation of the abyss
Welcoming me

Suwreel

The tale of the fat birds
Fire feathered in the dark woods
Asks the myth mountains
Snow drooping and year stained
The long magic of tears crystaled

Sing Cywril to Balour
Make the glad telling
Glow the Tenebrae's darkness
From the fen-mars to Dagash

The truth remains shuttered
The hard fists raise towers
The exhausted land prospers
Heavy with blood thirst

Sing Cywril, Sing, Sing

Gibbens, 68, 12