The Heisenberg uncertainty principle
Can tell me you've moved
But it can't tell me how fast;
Or it can tell me
You're nearing light speed
But not if you're coming closer
Or moving farther away from me.
Yet I can feel the sunlight
I know it takes eight minutes
From the central fire of the solar system
To reach my skin
And so it is, I can sense the flame
Of your presence
Even a million years distant:
Nothing else gives off as much light.

My soul, into granite
Into quartz; into feldspar-
The flesh world can't hold
My roving mind, bold

Ever changing flares, but
Where's the base layer-
Reached not by prayer
That time hasn't raked

My soul's been naked,
For two billion years
O, clothe me in starlight,
In pure dreams of suns, bright

The universe of substance
Subside into me-
I just want to stay true
To myself, in that light

In the holographic world, thoughts can fly
From brain to brain; no reason why
Synchronicity is the rule-
Coincidence? don't be a fool.
Ask, and the door must always open
The dream won't end, till the dreamer's woken
A man will put childish things aside
When he finds the whole universe lies inside
And all we see, and all we are
Once lived inside of a twinkling star
Don't tell me magic cannot exist:
For out of nothing, comes all this.

if some electric joy could paint us
here in the vivid shards of wasted glass,
or create a beauty that's never been drunk
we'd question our surreal imaginations,
drugged by passion's symbolic chisel;
the blue aesthetic of an angel's dust,
of abstract life more sensed than performed;
the psychedelic absurdities in bolder strokes:
I'd sing your **** genius sculpted through every world.

Hallowed be thy name
True reality of mind
Just myself left to attain
To unbury the divine.

Words alone must always fail
To describe that tiny spark
You would call the Holy Grail
If but once you'd brave the dark.

No death, so do not fear
The robed monk implores
Now see the way is clear
Go unlock your doors.

Know that the little Me
Again must go to sleep
But the hallowed soul goes free
To fields of stars so deep.

I sit surrounded by the carnage of the day’s efforts:
Words dismembered, metaphors bled dry.
I flap my wings in discomfiture at each glaring new
Example of mechanical fallowness;
Words hung out on clotheslines of manipulated
Speech patterns, wherever they could squeeze in-
Between the wet, moldy socks and twisted, bedraggled underwear.
I am a trained chicken at best, trying to force something out
At least partly digestible. As I peck out the sterile notes
One by one, on my red toy piano,
An automaton digs thru my internal filebanks, the flux of
Catapulted words continually bouncing over the chickenwire;
Escaping to flap heavily upward towards the trees:
And there to look down beady-eyed at the
Flopping, feathery decapitated blight.
For good reason, I hail from a long line of extinct dinosaurs.
Clucking with irritation, I see someone else has
Already laid all the good eggs, the golden eggs;
I can only scratch out some maggots and hope they hatch.

I stubbed my toe upon a nail
It hurt and hurted, just like hell
I got sick of the pain
Along came a train-
Sliced it off on the top of a rail.

I jammed my finger in a door
I swear that sucker got so sore
When I couldn't stand it one minute
I turned on the disposal and stuffed it in it-
Now instead of five fingers, I got four.

My knee was feeling it's weary age
As I hobbled me across the stage
In the museum, there was the guillotine
Crawled over the chain, and did my thing-
Now my wooden leg is all the rage.

My arm was sprung; I cannot lie
So I laid me down in the road, to die
But I got lucky, the truck was small
So now I'm just not quite as tall-
You can't succeed if you never try.

Had tennis elbow, so I went to play
Games with a table-saw; my friend Ray
Has tools galore; had just the thing
Now my arm's fixed, it's in its sling-
And I didn't even have to pay.

Got paper cut, doing my thesis
Cussed out loud, my paper in pieces
I hung my hand from a ceiling beam
Strangled it's guts, with nary a scream-
Really proud of my new prosthesis.

My child ran crying she got hurt
As I saw all around her, blood did spurt
But she took one look at my stumps and slings
Said oh, it's really not anything-
Went out, and rubbed it with some dirt.

I'm not spendy, and I don't have greed
For sure, this body has gone to seed
I can do without arms and legs
Ovaries, appendix; all those eggs-
Cause the head's the only part I need.