Sep 2013
Crossroad horizon colored purple blue and burned
Sister sadie purrs as the register drawer rings
And the horses all gallop and dash entrancing the sun.
A naked flower forms meteors in metered time.
When I was nineteen I lost every single fear.
Tear away the fabric, rip away the sheets, open up the signs;
There just ain't enough time in this world to be unkind.
Understand thy fellow brother.
See their shining God as ye' see yours.
Another night away from her
Is like being shot down double musket undeserved.
A lonesome river runs through the mountains gate.
A man who believes in himself understands that fate
Is neither fair or generous, only a state
That cannot be meddled with or stripped to debate.
Golden fawn springs from the bush to the forefront.
Twilight salutes in a dutiful stunt.
When I don't love, I don't live.
And when I don't live, I don't deserve to be.
Crystal bells, silver whistles and jade scorpions
They hang like a gang from my rooftop.
Apricot juice, dandelion wine, and attic finds
Are all a child's dreams until they stop.
Day here, day gone.
She complains about life, as
I wonder about the knife
Which Macbeth did hold,
Flashy like a maroon marigold.
Was it silver or was it a copper mold?
There are some secrets in this world
That should never be told.
Brown sister holds her books tight to her chest.
Her brother has been lost to some kind of quest.
The yellow ball sits on the edge of the corner pocket.
She grips in her hand an old rusty locket.
Near the Richmond train and the Sacramento river
Sits a dead man with eyes spilt into a frown.
His wife left him one morning to marry his brother John,
And he sits, waiting there for his soul to come along.
Abandoned love's color is that of a charcoal dove.
The bones of the pure cannot be broken or charred.
Blanket of stars partake in the ceremony of the monkeys.
I see the shaman and he's dressed as if he aims to be wed.
Oil on the streets. There's oil on my hands.
There's oil everywhere around us, but in the land.
Can't see through these eyes of mine anymore.
Can't breathe through this mouth or nose of mine neither.
Somethings telling me I've got to change my point of view,
Though where to start, I haven't a clue.
I like this place.
I like what I can do.
But some days,
I just feel cruel and I
Act like a drunken fool.
There's a place I can smell in my dreams, in my sleep, when I feel what we truly have.
And when it goes away, the only thing I can manage to feel is 6 feet down low and sad.
Let's get out of this place as soon as we can. I'll pack the bags and you pack the animals.
Out on the islands, away from all of man, we'll live by the eastern wind unplanned.
Clock strikes the fortieth page of the hundredth book of the eighth king.
The day man truly dies is when he forgets how to sing.
I cannot elope my mind to the calculations of times subtractions of the body.
Either everyone comes,
Or nobody.
Sister sadie purrs as the register drawer rings
And the horses all gallop and dash entrancing the sun.
A naked flower forms meteors in metered time.
When I was nineteen I lost every single fear.
Tear away the fabric, rip away the sheets, open up the signs;
There just ain't enough time in this world to be unkind.
Understand thy fellow brother.
See their shining God as ye' see yours.
Another night away from her
Is like being shot down double musket undeserved.
A lonesome river runs through the mountains gate.
A man who believes in himself understands that fate
Is neither fair or generous, only a state
That cannot be meddled with or stripped to debate.
Golden fawn springs from the bush to the forefront.
Twilight salutes in a dutiful stunt.
When I don't love, I don't live.
And when I don't live, I don't deserve to be.
Crystal bells, silver whistles and jade scorpions
They hang like a gang from my rooftop.
Apricot juice, dandelion wine, and attic finds
Are all a child's dreams until they stop.
Day here, day gone.
She complains about life, as
I wonder about the knife
Which Macbeth did hold,
Flashy like a maroon marigold.
Was it silver or was it a copper mold?
There are some secrets in this world
That should never be told.
Brown sister holds her books tight to her chest.
Her brother has been lost to some kind of quest.
The yellow ball sits on the edge of the corner pocket.
She grips in her hand an old rusty locket.
Near the Richmond train and the Sacramento river
Sits a dead man with eyes spilt into a frown.
His wife left him one morning to marry his brother John,
And he sits, waiting there for his soul to come along.
Abandoned love's color is that of a charcoal dove.
The bones of the pure cannot be broken or charred.
Blanket of stars partake in the ceremony of the monkeys.
I see the shaman and he's dressed as if he aims to be wed.
Oil on the streets. There's oil on my hands.
There's oil everywhere around us, but in the land.
Can't see through these eyes of mine anymore.
Can't breathe through this mouth or nose of mine neither.
Somethings telling me I've got to change my point of view,
Though where to start, I haven't a clue.
I like this place.
I like what I can do.
But some days,
I just feel cruel and I
Act like a drunken fool.
There's a place I can smell in my dreams, in my sleep, when I feel what we truly have.
And when it goes away, the only thing I can manage to feel is 6 feet down low and sad.
Let's get out of this place as soon as we can. I'll pack the bags and you pack the animals.
Out on the islands, away from all of man, we'll live by the eastern wind unplanned.
Clock strikes the fortieth page of the hundredth book of the eighth king.
The day man truly dies is when he forgets how to sing.
I cannot elope my mind to the calculations of times subtractions of the body.
Either everyone comes,
Or nobody.
