In between the blurred lines,
Laced with exploding, impending reason,
A season of impending, exploding wellness,
The change of stations,
Instead of the hazy, late afternoon dullness,
In the fog, redness resonating into the palm,
Getting rid of the self delusions,
Fitted in a fiery costume of skin,
Stark naked and feeling the great truth,
To the unknown.

I was entangled in the hue,
Guessing and seeing supernatural,
Singing songs not yet sung,
Writing make believe from pockets,
Slightly outstretched on a line,
On a drum head beating my head,

There was a contrast somewhere,
Whish could have been summer,
Now I told of the breeze,
Now the wind blew the trees,

Sometimes the shade is the better option,
When the sweat stings the eyes,
Tiptoes through ghost roads,
Echoes of infant pasts,
Cries of lucid transparency,
Only seconds remain of them,

I was getting to the point,
I was hitting the joint,
Soon it’ll burn away to dust,
Soon the ash will enter lust.

Coming from the shadows a six armed samurai,
Followed closely by glowstick wielding neon ninji,
Grips of *** swigging pirates swing from the rafters,
Swallowed alive by blacklight monsters,
Gangs of ***** smoking gurus,
Armed to the teeth with translucent didgeridoos,
Monks parade in swirling vestments,
Whilst the shaman trip in lotus testament,
Gods transfixed by blood tear beauty,,
As humanity’s heroes slay bejeweled dragons,
The king with two faces is beheaded,
By his charlatans, harlequins, fools and jesters,
Chaotic, prophetic killers run amok,
The order of lunatics chant as the time is struck,
A battle royale then follows,
As robots and aliens envelope,
Brilliant beams and whirring mechanics,
Clash with steel, rock, bone and sticks,
Screams from the heads of the thieves,
As their brains are devoured by zombies

The heart pounds through the chest,
With every drag of smoke,
The pulse quickens,
Blood thickens,
Try to act casual,
Seconds start to melt away,
If only there was more time.

A hot, cleansing shower,
Distractions in light,
And sound,
Words scatter across your brain,
Like suns in the sky,
If only you could find,
The right thing to say.

The surreal terra firma,
Becomes quicksand as you sleep,
Or at least try to,
You’ll fool yourself in the morning,
Three hours is all it took,
As the divine moment approaches,
Whatever it may be,
Whenever it may be,
If only the true being shown through.

Above the trees and the ground,
There was no sound,
Above the world,
The sky had come down,

So much had happened,
Now it was over,
And nothing mattered,

We reached our hands above our heads,
We each held a piece,
Blinked our eyes and…

It’s time to fill,
Fly over garden, meadows, hill,
Heal those wounds,
Baring your own fruit of life.

It makes sense once you think about it, son

She stopped to cry,
Over the roadkill,
She was on no substance,
Clearheaded she wept,
Crimson tears,
Through champagne eyes,
Her sweat rippled through her skin,
She grew stems with,
Rainbow leaves,
Translucent,
Placid,
Fortuitous,
She connected it all in the final second,
Compassion was carefree,
She lived and died,
Growing tired,
With tragic wings.

Down by the tracks with my ol’ friend Jack,
He picked up his hat and wiped it off clean,
Into the horizon he looked shading his eyes with one hand,
Saw farther than a man had ever seen.

He saw straight past his life and all his days,
To that moment that he’d love to dread,
Whooshed right up the tracks and to his spine,
The chill of the end when he was dead.

His eyes weren’t shut but he squinted,
Something deep down he felt was lifted,
Eerily warm he felt in the ground,
As he was put in the earth spinning ‘round.