Wednesday, April 28, 2010

The Way

And so I ask you
Have you ever met an Imagist?
Well, welcome to the show

Here we are again
Behind the bamboo curtain
No one knows the boundaries
Of my imagination because I
Might have dropped them in acid

That is not to say that we are
Flightless and without will
To create when sober,
But a little bit of crazy helps

If every partner in crime
Were to connect neurons
Their sanity would be lost

Who are the pitiful souls?
Are they leading happy lives?
Do they have ardent desires?
Or are they like the multitudes
Who walk aimlessly into the night?
Certainly, they felt the stars' hazy kiss
In continuous passion, or not

All of us try to find safe harbor
In the comfort of our mind
Where we can store up riches
And dissolve disappointment
On the same premise of disaster
We lie to ourselves day in, night out
No silence will hold us tight
But this will not do
No, this will never do
These are promises and threats
Which revoke our rights to life

Seldom have we been so slow
Seldom have we been aware
My only wish is to see
The depths of my soul again
The truth is hidden behind a
Winding path into unconsciousness
Devoid of all logic
Magic has taken up reality

And now for an old trip
I'm tired of thinking
I want the old forms
To report to the call of duty
Its time to create change
The morning is soon to come
I would like to tell you about
The anxious sandstorms in the eyes
Of your generation

If words could walk and hold
My transfixed smile to the frame
I would be an old, exhausted pillow
Dedicated to a path of sleep

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