I've waited so long, I'm walking to you
If you'll walk to me by dawn.
I'll give you red diamonds and the black pearls
Give you something for your finger to have on
I'm standing in the street waiting for crunch time to calm me,
I thought I knew you better than this, I know you knew me better
Than you would ever let on.

The way you wore your father's Captain's uniform,
You are the stewardess and pilot both,
I'm the admiral of this flotilla racing across the Aegean to meet your coast,
But often it seems I'm rowing a dinghy into the arms of the storm of your ghost.

Meet me in Palo Alto
Where the devil's giving me dollar for dollar on my soul.
Three thousand miles of traveling the brainwaves
To California, to San Francisco I go.

Some women wait, others they lie, some they hate just for sport
Some men find it troubling to live in their sins while the rest of us
Weather the storm.

Brown paper poetry scribbled on bags,
cut throat couplets, haikus and prose
Drinking and tripping and looking for junk
Just a collection of madness in its throes.
The petals have draped themselves over your body,
Can you taste God in your foils?

I'm just waiting to collide into the skin
My fortune said you'd bring
I can do without the tertiary friends like that red-headed *****
Megan whose company you keep.
When it comes to taking every piece of treason don't underestimate
Their thievery. They'll drink from your fountain of abuse, until their
Goblets sear their lips and burn away their tongues.
The universal language of O- blood lust, is just beginning to be enough.

Doctors say you've died, but your heart's on fire
I'm just a conflagration where there used to be a man
My veins sweat the poisons of quiet disease,
They can crash while we burn alive,
Sitting quietly together in Dolores Park,
While our toxicity kills us inside.
Let's just wait here and burn alive.

I said my heart feels universal
She said before you take on the universe discover your salvation
Salvation of what
From what
She said you have no hope for heaven
I said we make our own heaven

I survived the conversation

The crowds, slithering down the aisles
           aimless yet ordered,  manoeuvering
                     shopping carts and metal baskets

Welcome to the lower class, the minion slave tied to the renting a house instead of a home. The climate is too harsh not to have shelter. They shop at thrift stores and outfit themselves for twenty bucks, hell they can find a living room for under a hundred dollars or bones or what ever you want to call them, that magic thing called Ca$h.

All those people spending that cash, in most cases, hard earned.

How did this ever happen * The Consumer they call us
                                                      We save a lot of money
                                                           ­  Spending money we don't got.

Ownership is the problem.. How does someone have the right to stake a claim to a chunk of land, then parcel  it off and make money selling it.
The Earth belongs to all of us.

The rich will go forward and lay claim to any planet they can reach for its natural resources.. How the hell can we let that happen. The Universe is ours, it belongs to everybody. We will leave this dirt and venture back when it has healed.

I can see them harvesting asteroids and riding  comets, waving there Stetsons
And hootin' yee haw as they speed through the galaxy, trying to hold onto their imagined power. The making up the rules as they go along.

Sometimes I just have to ignore everything and create my own little world.
A world where I trust my dead friends for sure. I don't know about everyone else.

Leave everything all behind  finding some real peace. Not this chanting about it, but shaping it and moving it like the malleable construct that it is....
               if you can call it a construct... and if you can't then 'what the hell'.

We are more than we know, more than we claim.. the People can be the power

We can start again, start all over before we swallow ourselves whole... and in part. Dismembered for certain. Dismembered and sent to the other side of the country, or half way around the world.

This is me,
You see.
Fragments
Or the whole;
All the same,
You will see.

I am Truth
A version of it;

Any part you will pick
Authentic.

Here is the treat
Every facet
Of this mosaic;
My identity is one and
Universal.

Whatever you will get
It will be a best self
I am Truth
A version of it;

Take it
Or none of it.

Oceans shy to offer
Ink to express your beauty
It is too little

Scared from my bush with no name
They will brain wash the impaired
Such hefty goals they hide behind
Filling the holes you dug in their mind
Empty structured used to hold our souls
Constantly Walking down dank desolate halls

Feeling a strange comfort, yet impending doom
With every minute creeping closer to death
I do hope you cherish your last few breath
Soon all deranged intent reveals itself
You'll Find the TRUTH in finding yourself
Nothingness, the curtain closes over us

Pay to live, live to pay, pay to pray
Go down the line of our institutions
The line dead ends at supposed reality
Know now the solutions to vanity,
will come in due time. Ending your time
Minds grave stayed a slave, slave to stay

Walk the grey line.
Brain wash the impaired
The Morbid thoughts
Brain washed society
Do  not be scared
of what we can't see
This personal
separation.
Hear vibrations
Feeling natures stair.
Strife not the end
Climb the tree of life

Thought deprivation, and oral defecation. Plant the seed
Repair wounds of time. Knowing everything must feed
Isolation growing intense psychology distorted mind
Undiscovered complex perversity living inside of the  
There are some driven by the destruction of adversity
In Life and death, I tell you revision isn't key

Direct your inquiries to thriving minds
Be still in your decisions long pondered
Remove your mistakes, remove your memories
Time breaks for insanity, in alternate realities
Not acceptable. UNIVERSAL descent, a shame
Monetary gain, owning rights to humans brains

Its all about the capital and its punishment
The day we all thought would come true
This day we will soon enough forget.
New life surrounded by decay and death
We know  you won’t, but you really should
enjoy the carcass. It will all end soon.

To many people fearing the day they’ll die
Open to the window of opportunity
Look through the window to the other side
If what you found was lifeless, run and hide