I think this is awakening.
I think this is a dream: popped,
A sudden realization about future,
Prospects, history, essence, a being
Requiring full appraisal,
Reworking.
An understanding that even though
My heart beats so full for life,
It must also fill a life so full.
Relieving an overburden in distractions
Like a day spent in the garden.
Re-evaluation.
A drop of rain touched my nose today
And I bent down amidst my garden,
Which left me thinking to myself
How lovely it was to be alive.
That this was alive.
So as I delicately pulled
Each raspberry I had bent to pick
I understood the message
Was to inhale, exhale.
Push me.
Push twilight hours into dark corners
That swim amongst nevermore, nevermore.
Push my symbols into vertical black lines
Twisting about blurred vision scapes.
Push elephant hoof raindrops
Deep within my exposed and crackling skin.
Push out spring bloom’s beauty
Like a healthy garden explodes.
And if the camping hustlers deny
Engulfing catalytic tremors,
Then I shall be forced with all my might
To push my crows to vigor.
Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust
Love is sadness that carries golden rays of sun towards dusk
Did sounds of heartache keep you awake at night
Blood oozing from hands that toiled for your fortunate future
Will you still love me when my hands have wrung themselves dry
Sitting here dancing with eyes around the moon tonight
Our dreams dressing up in black and white shoes
Placing our love into lust into locks of curly golden brown hair
Twirling ourselves round and round to the tune of trumpets in summers night air
Will you still love me when my hands have curled against time
Sheltering our eyes against the hours of sunlight
Carefully pulling apart leaves that shelter the garden
Shaking away caterpillars nibbling on precious shards of life
Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust
When history remains and old friends have long forgotten
Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust
When the story ends will there still be a thought
Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust
Float my soul into the Garden of Eden
Mingling with leaves and bountiful trees
Mocking birds perched upon low hanging branches
Romancing me, graceful as I go
Hovering about the top leaves, I
Choicest of fruits sit proud as I browse
Shifting my wind to float down to sin
Dangling my toes in the faces of maidens
Fair skinned maidens with light saris
Giggling at gurgling water flowing by
Lapping amongst their dangling limbs
They acknowledged me with eyes of fair maidens
Playful touching that aroused my desire
I put forth my thoughts to spellbound their minds
Crazy they gathered with worship and laughter
Sacrificed a lamb for love to come faster
Drums led the way into evenings warm prayer
I curled up my soul into a land finely woven
Light summer breeze blew hanging silk fabrics
Sweet Nag Champa floating through our essence
Turning us on our backs to gaze up in wonder
Moans and groans and giggling and laughter
Pillows upon pillows; pillows galore
Candles were lit as lips were nipped
Fruits from the garden, picked and dipped
Light finely wovens covering our perspiring bodies
Naked as the night stars shining upon us
In Garden of Eden and it’s ten thousand sins
Oh my stars and heavenly angels
I’ve fluttered down to delightful petals
Can you match my imagination in colour?
The garden, it’s fresh
Spilling over onto grass
Roaming over mountains
With one tiny seedling
And filling our noses
Of such sweet sweet nectar
Harvested in spells so thick
Even sunshine pauses here a while
With daisies, and pansies
Tulips and violets
Poppeys and bleeding hearts
Such beautiful glory
For my days on this earth
Every day filled with laughter
Tickling my nose and
Infecting my colour
Spreading my wings
As I take dizzied flight
Lost in such intoxication
That float me on
Into the day of love
Oh my stars and heavenly angels
Miss Flower can be purchased here.
I go through spells of masturbating and drinking tea
Drinking tea and masturbating
It’s like I have an inner desire to be some kind of
Fucking poet, wracking my brain for some utter nonsense
Only to release it with an unconventional treble clef
It’s nonsense, fucking utterly nonsense.
As a young boy I’d sit mesmerized by the flicker of
Angel’s wings floating through the garden on hot summers days
The other fellas would be off playing footy
Me, I’d just enjoy the cool breeze as I lay back
Slow buzz of another little creature coming to pry at my brain
Now, I’m wrecked with heartache that fails to leave me
Little bursts of memories that inflict me with so much agony
I’ve replayed it over and over again, each time with a new smell
But each time it lasts a little bit longer
Maybe one of these times there won’t be an ending to the sad verses
Tomorrow I’ll spit into the middle of the soup
Chanting my spells and adding a drop of blood from a virgin’s finger
I wont wake the dogs for they don’t dance with my words
They act stupid and make believe they don’t see the ghosts that I see
I know better, we all share miseries destiny
I don’t need a friend
I don’t need a mother
I don’t need a car
I don’t need a lover
I don’t need a sister
I don’t need a brother
I don’t need a shoe
I don’t need a nother
I don’t need a house
I don’t need a player
I don’t need a roof
I don’t need a dinner
I don’t need a mind
I don’t need a helper
I don’t need a soul
I don’t need a savior
I don’t need a bike
I don’t need a computer
I don’t need a airplane
I don’t need a traveler
I don’t need a suitcase
I don’t need a prayer
I don’t need a garden
I don’t need a teacher
I don’t need a way
I don’t need a answer
I don’t need a goal
I just need us
And that’s the truth.