After another cup of divine Joe
and a white Zig Zag stuffed with heavenly flowers,
I begin to realize just how delusional I was in this life of ours.
In the middle of green,
I sat under trees that exposed the morning hue.
A pink line where the mountains lye reflected lightly on morning due.
What to do?
Sounds of robotic machines fill the air causing quiet mass havoc.
Rotten pollution killing the pure soul off this mad planet.
I've had it.  I've had enough of these
white devils behind the blood stained Kurtains.
Be a righteous rebel, lead and define your own life,
for death is certain.
But death only the beginning of eternal journey..
The soul lives on forever.
Time doesn't exist.
Their is no 1993, nor October through September.
In this life of two legged animals,
we move in similar directions..
Like clouds in the sky,
different shapes and forms of reality and perception.
Its Knowledge for every breath you and I take,
every moment state.
I demonstrate the technique of ascending above Dimension 78.
Only the writer knows the true message
in the bottle he found near the pacific waters.
Only the rider of the travel machine
pedals full throttle, crystal clear of specific monsters,
with postures of angry fathers and maniacal laughter
after pigs slaughtered...