Why is Jesus consorting with the wizard man?

If I were the wizard,
I’d need the beard…
Apparently beards are in now.

But if I were the wizard,
I would change the sky…
The sky is good but it could be better.
The swirled spray of technicolour patterns.

Then if I were the wizard,
I’d live with the cows…
Cows are the divine creature,
Spending their days extracting the golden spirit of the grass,
Four stomachs, one psychedelic voyage. Even waste isn’t wasted.

Now if I were the wizard,
I’d shrink the universe…
I want to see the stars burning in the brilliance.
I want the vast, spiraled arms of the galaxy to greet me by my window.

See if I were the wizard,
There wouldn't be fat people…
We would all be huge and slide around on greased up silk rugs.

The wizard’s power,
will forever sour,
the final hour of flight.
And in his hat,
the fat rat was sat,
and deprived of all natural light.

This albino creature,
was his newest feature,
and preacher to his army of mice.
With a forked tongue,
the call would be sung,
“Semper Fidelis”
Don’t think twice.

This rodent beast has a task from the wizard.
He is to watch you. Why?
For security that’s why.

Those beady yellow eyes shine in the darkness above wizard head.
The ragged ears can hear everything that is said.

What if I were the wizard?
Well, I’d see no need for hats…
The hair is too long for the sun.

His flowing robe of royal blue,
His perfect ideals, misconstrued,
A great top hat with stars and stripes,
And a gnarled finger prodding at the night.

He wants you,
He needs you,
Don’t answer him or he’ll find you.

The power he flexes has come from the masses,
We loved him,
We chose him.

He has barked out the command, “Semper Fidelis!” and we have answered him. Hell has descended on the sands by his feet and was trodden flat by his army of mice. The sands and stones and dusted hills, all plundered to flex his might.
Can you hear him bellow out the curse?
The holy mountain shakes loose its earthly foundations. The sky cracks and returns his call with flashing fiery ferocity. He has summoned forward  the Deep and the Dark, and deliverance has fallen. He has loosed these beasts upon us, weather was changed by his hand and the Earth has spit fourth these.

Locked in silent thought, watching the trick of mind disappear.
A thousand mirrored spirals on canvas surrounding me. Closed eyes envision an explosion of sanity and normal cascading from my head.
It is easier not to fight it.
The smoke filled lung holds no answers but coughs out a key. To which door? A plethora unfolds before me and I take the hand of a traveler.
“lead me from this place.”
The beast grows into a multi-armed flying goddess and grasps my head.
“trickle your thought to my cup.”
It asks.
I oblige.
All thought is gone, sanity released, I am everywhere and of no being. Viewing past, present and future in perfect harmony I crouch in awe. The head I was encapsulated in vanishes and myself spills into all existence. No self..No perception of me..Perfection.

Let me be drunk,
Let me be drunk,
Let me be fine and drunk,
Let a bottle of dark be a light to where I am going, to shade out where I've been and the song to settle me now.
You, a crystal natured decanter, muddled to the wishing eye.
You, that will lead me by the glistening, babbling, dribbling lip.
You, the warmth in my distended belly.
You, the burning down my throat, the fire in a broken heart.
You, the shaper of ideas, of loves and hates, of sorrows, oh such sorrows, such deep and dark and gloomy sorrows but you also of such light.
You, that takes me by the throbbing, beating soul of a night-time and wraps me squealing and crying in your lambskin spread and soothes and caresses and cares.
You, a hot-blooded simmering mess of teenage spirit.
You, the answer to the great pubescent question.
You, the real gateway drug.
You, the peacekeeper.
You, the antagonist.
You, a swollen king on your enabling throne.
You've been here long enough. Just tell me what you want. Stop filling my head with these lies and loves but don't leave me unattended. You've led me far into the valley of the shadow of death and you have taught me why I should fear those evils. Those that are deep and dark and terrible.

Run Rabbit, Run,
Alice is after you,
Alice, The Madman, or
The local federals-

Given the chance,
All would take a leg for luck,
The hand of fate,
Has passed you up,
And here you stand,
Hips in tuck,
Saved in passing,
granted luck-

it turns out that I’m the Rabbit
and you the Madman in the tall hat.

You've poisoned the tea and spiked the punch with ACID!

Oh Absalom! Absalom!
Grant me safety in your smoky blue carousel,
My legs have gone gimp,
I've been running for days-

The beast called Alice,
Is drawing near,
Her thundering steps,
Are all I hear,
This short-bread cake,
Will quell my fear,
Though the smiling cat,
Will forever peer-

His eyes are gleaming,
Bright and blue,
Iris sharp,
Focused on you,
No blinking, no moving,
That cheeky grin,
His frozen face,
Softened by the gin-

Brass buttons clasp,
The muddied breeches to my belly,
An everlasting coat,
That drags in the dust-

The smiling cat stoops his head,
“To get beneath the branch”, he said,
But really what I think he wants,
Is to get a better look at my watch-

If Alice were to find me,
The game would be up,
The treasure I've found,
The sword, the watch, the cup,
Lost to the ether,
They would be found,
By the big headed queen,
In her rouge hearted crown-

“Save me! Save me Queen!” I pleaded with the *****-

No longer needing,
My help or my time,
She had found the gold, found the sword,
And taken the crown-

My uses were up,
I was kicked to the side-

“Oh Absalom! Absalom!”
Will you help me now?
Have I shown you my worth as a runner?

All I need is a bite,
Of your spotted toad-stool,
A puff of your pipe,
And I’ll be on my way-

No help from the slug, I return to the tea-party-
To sit and drink and make merry with the wood-folk-

The Hatter has tricked me into his game,
It has rendered me blind,
His sweet tasting tea,
Is playing with my mind,
He says to relax,
Take it easy,
Close my eyes,
He’ll see me again,
Once that Red Queen has died-

I like it right here,
In my world of light and colour,
I can’t hear anymore,
Or at least I can’t hear the fuss-

Though I know when I wake,
That Alice will be gone-
When morning comes round I must be prepared to run-

I can stare for days,
at the seagull,
sitting on my window sill.

You can tell from his expression,
he has no idea that people shoot at each other.

I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him,
until I have the same expression on my face…

Silent carriage with no sounds,
Is it real?

I can see it, touch it, but still can't hear.
An empty voice directs my journey and affirms my belief,
no soul,
no thoughts,
it isn't real.

No shoes on the sleeping man,
with strangely odorless feet.
Nobody smells here, it's disturbing.

Bright, buzzing, neon-fluorescent lights of gold or yellow.
Burning my eyes.
Now i am blind.

This senseless, lifeless bubble is my ticket home.
$6.20 should get you more of an experience.

Not long now and my vision will return.

Hearing and smell too..

Sat shivering in cold and damp car lot,
awaiting the bell for the dreary work-
-a-day crawl to begin.
In meditative crouch, too frozen for,
feeling or thought.

Silver Bells, cockle shells,
in Nirvana awaiting us,
drifting in lazy gusts.

He takes sparkly rainbow flight among the pigeons,

They coo,
as he breathes fire and howls,
heart of wolf and gold-

I've seen him trailed in green, riding on wings for us to learn from.

Master Bird,
guide me to mega,
and naked,
and flight-

The bird is not naked but has ****** of mind.
Mind too bare,
for disdain,
and loath-

Take heed in his loss of mind,
Naked and Beautiful,
I love it.
Too pure for me,
I wish for it.

He stands, backs away, gazes,

Maybe...

Choosing from the stacked shelves of colour, sweet and sour, shining over, in, out, around. Tempting a step forward like orphans waiting at the ready to be sold to the mines.

Maybe...

Two arms but a thousand choices. A hundred? A thousand to choose.
His friends have moved on from his isle, to toys and foods, baking stalls of fish and chunder.

Buzzing fluro hyper-emotive lights, his shoulders naked and bare for the world. Not yet lashed and ***** by tendrils of the ****** society. Eels in soup, you know, squirting with thirty boys in ******* to the beat. A dub proposed, seconded, played forward and blasted through fender-box for the dextromethorphan eye to behold.

Bass, Blues and Angus and Julia ring out through the cavernous space in our floating head. A gas burner of sweet Mary Jane keeps the balloon floating high above. Two ***** hang from its base while the **** has long since fallen to the peoples below, blotting out the sun. Shocking pictures of girls, boys and gear sticks. Two babes one pacifier, the new viral hit. 3, 2, 1 your 15 minutes are up and you see no more out of those big naive eyes of yours.

A tasteless, formless meal, encased in vintage wrapping,
a trendy snack.

Layer yourselves,
in the linens of your Grandfathers,
You are the In crowd.
Sell your soul,
for a moth-eaten cardigan,
You are a hit now.

Put on the mask and continue the charade,
You     are
Fleeting.