Resurrection
Build me up, rebuild from the rubble
- the wasteland that I’d wallowed in. (hmm—)
Found myself down in the gutter.
Woke to a face I didn’t recognize. (hmm—)
Something deep inside of me
pulled me up from the mire and mud
and the spirit warned, “Don’t give ‘em your blood…
…and never give them the power over your emotions.
Never compromise your self-respect.
Never let them walk on your pride…”
(And) then pulled me up, up from the dark
to overcome, un-destroy, decide…
I had a resurrection…
- brought back from the bleakest hour.
And on the downward spiral,
(I was) blessed with the chance to try again.
I had a resurrection…
Gotta swim straight through the water.
Swim to the edge of the dark blue sea. (hmm—)
Made it through the pools of sorrow
and I’ll make it through tomorrow. (hmm—)
________
Ecstasy
In the last of my release, I opened up the core,
and tapped in to its boundlessness.
My soul stepped through the door and spoke to the invisible
as it reached for Higher Ground.
Ecstasy— Ecstasy— I’m in ecstasy.
Energies that filled me, distant and mysterious,
moved from wild to sober.
Revelations forced me upon a new-lit path,
to open up a new door.
Like a Divine seizure,
in its intoxication,
I ate the god; I drank it in
broke from the prison-house of sin.
Soaring well above a timeless, blue abyss…
in speechless communion, I spoke in tongues.
Driven to ecstasy and passing through the secret gate
beyond my consciousness.
________
The Haunting
[spoken:]
My thoughts were swimming in the sensual heat of the room.
The rains came heavy, like the fertile flow in the womb…
and the sweet scents in abundance, came.
[sung:]
And he told me stories to push me near the edge.
Afraid to fall too deeply, he pulled me from the ledge.
He’d play his crushing mind games -
his roulette-wheel-take-a-chance games.
We’d go a little further than before…
Kiss without kissing, touch without touching
Drawing me into his fold.
Dress me up and punish me, I’d been swallowed up in him, til
I’d left me out in the cold.
And the ghosts around us swirled about the fire.
The voices from the hollow heightened our desire.
Adonis, glowing silv’ry sweat, towered above me, I can’t forget.
We’d go a little further than before.
Writhing, slithering daemonic presence, took my reason from me.
Possessed my soul, I’m weakening,
yet I screamed ’til I broke free.
And then the violet curtains flowed. I remember well:
the sounds in the air, the mist, the fresh thick winds that knell…
and the heat of our bodies, the whispered breeze.
It was the elegance of a morning in hell!
________
Heaven’s Flames
One day I said to God, “Why do you give me so much
when all I do is fail you, though I know wrong from right?”
He consoled me, saying, “You, my child, are learning;
through your pain, you’re growing. It’s darkest before the Light.”
Sail the magic waters…to the wide awakening
from the deepest sleep…from the deepest sleep
into heaven’s flames…washed by heaven’s rains.
And by these lessons, the knowledge is forever there
to teach us all tolerance so we may learn to share.
I love to be touched by the universal ghost
who, when I least expect it, brings its guiding host.
I become a medium and I know the unknown
And the spirit wrestlers lead me through a new zone.
I recall a memory in the experience of my soul.
And all the answers come to me, when my heart is whole.
________
Confession
Merciless light, magnified, exposing my emotions.
Uncover me for what I am – a drop in an ocean.
I break the clouds, stand and walk,
and take a step toward him.
Then walk the line, release and cry,
scream and let go from within.
Confession
(When I cleanse and let the dove go free,
I’m moving close to me.)
I sat by the silent lake
where sudden, shifting winds
raced through my hair (through my hair).
And purged the unseen, drenching,
gut-wrenching blackness
- torn from earth and air (from earth and air).
And my confession’s told -
outpouring of the soul.
Part the wounds to open air.
To heal the anguish and despair.
And filled with urgent prayers,
the ministers redeem.
A flood of insights rushing forth,
- coming in a dream.
The shadows are awash
like a watery fog filtering the pain
through starving clouds of memory.
I sense the sad refrain.
________
Water Wash Over Me
A clear bell chimes in the echo-less seas of waves.
The water’s familiar and warm like a womb.
And nearer to God I grow.
Traveling through the ocean
lucid dreaming, half-awake,
the shadow of sleep parts the veil.
It’s time for the wiser side
to make its connection to the soul.
Fade to the unseen.
Water wash over me.
Echo the timeless wave.
And when my soul is free,
I’ll fade in the flow.
A regeneration will bring out the best in me.
Bathe in the choral light, tossed in the thund’rous sea.
Swimming in harmony.
Traveling through life’s streams,
I’m moving ever close to me.
The journey’s log I’ll keep.
I’m traveling past my dreams.
I’m swimming in an ancient sea.
Fade to the unseen.
I can see the light at the end.
I can hear the voice of a friend.
I can heal, I can amend.
I can see.
Connecting to the higher force, moving closer to the Source.
It’s a dream, I’m falling, the Master is calling.
The water washed my sins away, I’m forgiven on this day.
It’s love, not hating, my father is waiting
in the Light.
________
Scent of Things to Come
A song is buried deep inside,
wishing badly to be freed.
When I’m not listening, I can hear
the sprouting of its timeless seed.
Haunted by the music,
from its source it’s torn.
The labour of its birth is strong
when I allow it to be borne.
And my song
through my pen
heard its past
of future’s presence
all at once
as my mission
and gravity
resound in rhythm with the universe.
I sense it waiting to be borne.
The scent of things to come.
We have the power to hear
things not present to the ear -
not wholly real, but ever near.
There is no sign of fear.
________
(Gauguin) Wrestling with the Angel
Wrestling with the Angel in a crimson field;
Jacob’s in a stranglehold. His heart was never healed.
And the spirit of the dead keeps watch.
Oh, Olympia… just throw caution to the wind!
Manao Tupapau, you’re defenseless.
Oh, Olympia… you’re the gilded masterpiece.
And the envy of all the world.
Visions of the Sermon – Day of God is near.
The Yellow Christ is crucified and Vincent’s lost his ear.
And the spirit of the dead keeps watch.
He struggled to be recognized, failing to achieve,
He left to find his passions, to live what he believed.
His paintings are alive, his soul wrestles to be freed.
He battles with his demons, but can’t unplant the seed.
Where do we come from?
What are we?
Where are we going?
How are we gonna get there?
________
On a Journey to the End
I was always running
- running away from who I am.
Felt so invisible
- not part of anybody’s plan.
Now I know Daddy’s not coming home.
So I can get on with my life.
His ghost, I know, will show me the way,
past the horrors and through the fray.
The voices are a friend
on a journey to the end.
I was always wanting,
- longing for him to notice me.
Felt so rejected
- tried so hard to make him see.
No! Death has shut the open door.
Oh! I can’t see him any more.
Now he’s my guardian spirit, my guide.
We’re a lot closer; there’s nothing to hide.
We’re on a journey to the end.
Nothing can steal us away.
Silence is the Healer
I am the ghost, the ghost of war
and I can feel the pain no more
and now I observe, I haven’t a prey.
I’m just shadowing the lives standing in my way.
We sent our troops in harm’s way.
Few will live to fight another day.
I was a ravaged angel in the storm
and now I’m home, safe and warm.
Silence is the healer
to inspire the better angels of our nature.
With these gifts, the harm’s in us.
Yet prayer can overcome.
Let the doors they open open doors for you.
Out of nothing I’ll always rise above it all
and traffic in souls that reinvent time.
I am the daughter of the gods
and I know where I stand.
I harbour no remorse, no bloodlet on my hand—
Silence!
The wounds lie deep, but tomorrow renews
and with that promise, we can’t lose.
________
The Blizzard
Martyred rose
alive in the blizzard,
reaching petals toward the light,
bless’d the promise of the night.
I rose one morning to a blizzard.
The wint’ry wind blew snow deep in my way
and I knew a storm was coming,
so I set out to find what debt I had to pay.
Sleep and Death, Sleep and Death
representing its last breath.
Just to meet –
the dead in the house of the unborne;
the rose knows about Death and Sleep!
…and the spell of the absent one moves forth.
And the wisdom of the deepest
holds the weeping eye so dear -
to chase away the fear.
Encountering the waiting ones
who seek their incarnations.
Slashing at their natural zeal,
we’ll scorn the sweet sensations.
Deep in the new theatre
lives the flaming youth
where the transformation quickens
and the plot of life thickens.
Can’t speak to an absent mind
that smothers such impressions.
Wonder is enlightenment
in its truest expressions.
…and the spell of the absent one moves forth.
And the wisdom of the deepest
holds the weeping eye so dear -
to chase away the fear.
To chase away the fear.
________
Baptized Again
Born from a bad beginning,
I played the Chicago blues.
When everyone failed me and left me alone,
I’d nothing left to lose.
My radio kept me from losing my mind.
I heard what I understood
to be the first music of its kind
from the Delta and the backwoods.
Baptize me again
each time I slide back down.
I wanna be baptized again -
my lower self I must drown.
Elvis taught me gospel and heart;
his rhythm and soul bled through.
Impassioned holy-rollers pulsed
as songs in my heart, they grew.
In tiny, white-worn chapels
where music raised the dead
rejoiced in jubilees of hope.
The preacher man was led.
The preacher man’s dark cries,
with fire blazing in his eyes,
and the rhythm of tambourines
was moving through my veins.
On the long dirt Blues Highway
I paid my dues this way
I shot emotions through my guitar
and said what I needed to say.
Gospels, hymns and the spirit of song
arms raised to heaven’s gate
borne of pain and sensual tales,
sprang from broken hearts and hate.
Baptize me in my music
to overcome hardships and pain.
Its waters filled with a soul force;
got down in a torrent of rain.
________
A Very Private Person
I’m going down to the corner store.
I always remember to lock and bolt my door.
’cause I’m a very private person
and I don’t want anyone.
I make a cold, hard living
and I work from sun to sun. Oh, yeah.
Don’t want anyone in, no one to call.
It’s my artificial personality, my brick wall.
Insincere visitors have so much to hide.
They want so to come on the inside.
They know that I’m paying a hard hard price.
But never want to offer any good advice.
’cause I’m a very private person
and I don’t want anyone.
I make a cold, hard living
and I work from sun to sun
and I ain’t got no time to mess with anyone, oh, no!
________
Spectres
Felicity I’ll never know; cannot feel, I cannot grow.
Masterwork by crippled hands… holding on an angel’s strands.
Spirit killed by society. I can’t take sobriety.
Sleepless eyes at unseen dawn; restless nights will never calm.
So why does it hurt like such a loss?
Why can’t I meet such a cost?
I’m dying in a gin mill, running on the treadmill.
Throaty is my narrow range; rehab, to me’s, foreign… strange.
I have known no sweet relief; I’m not sure of one belief.
Supporters aren’t my looking glass -
I observe when meetings pass.
Mine is not their rise and fall;
no similarity at all.
So take my flowers, take my song.
Bloody money all is gone.
Don’t want my fears to overcome,
but I can’t breathe, my nerves are strung.
Never knew a strong will.
Cannot take the big thrill!
________
The Awakening
I burn the candle at both ends
in the forest where the lights go
when they are blown out.
My life could be the story
so beautiful from beginning to end.
But instead it stings my senses,
awakening in me
emotions so long dormant, so seldom seen.
It’s the flashing light of the awakening.
And this is the palace of happiness.
And these are the days of the daydream.
Go on to the night of the bedlam.
“Oh gaffer! Your blackbird is blue.”
Sound the note of infinity -
the note of a fragile phantasy.
So all the world’s a song.
It’s the war inside that tries to take me
and the helpless feeling God can’t wake me.
This black foul!
It’s the flashing light of the awakening.
Water cleans it all away.
Monster dreams disappear when the light comes on.
Rulers of my destiny
go away when I release them to the wind.
I’m drugged by fools! This black foul!
Weighted with malevolence!
This black foul!
Till I create no more.
When with the awakening, they let me live.
Let me live – truer to myself.
This moment contains all the love.
This moment contains all the hate.
________
The Blue Butterfly
She heard an echo.
She understood in her soul
and from all the lives she’d lived before…
Intuition must be trusted. Blind faith cannot tell
when the mysteries are found at the bottom of the well.
Risks and faith in the smouldering fires
and the burning of his deep desires.
The Genie of the lamp’s
full of demons and The Dance.
Singing Harmony in Red.
His passionate view of joy they said
crossed the Green Line, o wild fauve;
paint the red room and orange grove.
The blue of that butterfly and Cezanne
made you more of a spiritual man.
Blue as a sulfur flame
filled with Mediterranean light.
Such a blue, it pierced his heart.
He knew he had to buy– that cherished butterfly.
The painting spoke in its own clear voice.
She knew right then that she had no choice
but to breathe in the harmony.
She made the greatest sacrifice
to decide and not think twice.
Cross the blue line, o wild beast,
break the mold and paint a feast.
________
My New York Mood
I’ll flood my heart to overflow
with Broadway lights and wine.
I’ll walk to the wild weather.
I’ll stammer to the beat.
I’ll catch with the flow,
dangle on the skyline.
My New York mood sets me off.
It moves me.
But could this be the day I go there?
To feel the touch of a thousand feelings:
street man, grass-chamber-minstrels, outdoor pomp.
The mood will stir me -
the city, the tears, the drama, the fears
(the applause of a hundred thousand critics).
I’ll go there sometime
to feel common mime
to look for a rhyme
to step out of time.
My New York sublime
that’s known for the crime
and the peddler’s dime
and the businessman’s climb.
I’ll look at you and laugh.
You’re not a photograph!
________
The Fragile Men
The fragile men I know, I love with all my heart.
They hate like hell to admit when I am just as smart.
Their fragile hearts can break as easily as I do
and break at every chance they get when not admitting to.
The faults they have are like mine, though equal we are not.
When we fight I understand his strength is what I want.
We eat, we drink, we play together every day.
He stays the same as I grow fat when doing things his way.
The fragile men are greater as vegetarians.
When they can’t put away the drink, they seem less masculine.
Well, that’s the way society goes, and that’s the way they see…
a man is only strong and brave when he is not like she.
________
Blue Memories
In turquoise, aqua blue, I’m free — swimming in a crystal sea.
It is a replenishment — cold, refreshing, innocent.
Splashing in a sparkling pool, the stinging of my eyes is cruel
Yet underwater I can see long past my eternity.
I closed my eyes to a blood red light.
I lay in sand and dreamt of night,
the summer sun, the cocoa scent and the waters’ refreshment.
Splashing in the mist-filled skies,
the stinging of my salt-filled eyes;
my days of youth on the beach
are too far away to reach.
But when I breathe the cobalt skies,
when I gaze in sapphire eyes
and the jade aquamarine
turns to royal or blue-green.
Cerulean waters, phthalo deep are the memories I keep.
Hidden in the midnight blues are the secret underlying clues.
I love blue –
And now I have released the pain –
bleating in the pouring rain.
The doors’ flung open to a dazzling light;
the shock erupted from inside.
Splashing in a sparkling pool,
the stinging of my eyes is cruel
Yet underwater I can see
long past my eternity.
I love blue –
Living in the Afterlife
[the Unknown Host (intuition) talks to the eternal voices]
Knowing the unknown
I cannot reveal the Unknown Host.
My mind is just a passing ghost.
Living on the long-forbidden path,
feeling the emotion of the aftermath,
intuitions flow and impulse knows
long-forgotten memories—
Deeper layers shed - lower down, lower down.
But I believe in a world beyond.
Part of me is living in the afterlife.
We are prisoners of infinity
where nothing is lost and nothing ever dies.
We must satisfy the justices.
Our own verdicts/virtues we decide.
Let the mind break confines
to experience the new and roam free.
The search for the unknown must go on.
Awakened intuition is a powerful force.
We understand by delving in the depths.
Search the silent night of who we are.
And the inward journey through a
World of Chance can’t be imagined.
The messengers are living in the afterlife.
In the invisible sky real birds fly.
They are on their way to a sweeter destiny.
Now I feel I’m breathing in the afterlife….
My mind is just a passing ghost.
My mind is just a ghost.
________
Making Fun of Pain
Breathe until you drop dead.
Break the spell that’s in your head.
You’ll see the sparks will fly away
until the Earth is round.
Again, you’ll find the black meets white.
[Chorus]
Then you’ll stop making fun of pain.
You’ll find the truth can help you on the way.
The world is so fragile.
Stop causing it pain!
Believe the time has come at last
to break the patterns of the past.
You’ll find the God within heals
and takes the pain away.
Now you can go on to the next life...
Robots Dance
Robots Sing
Robots Rule!
Consciousness will reveal
that we cannot truly feel
the way the Earth can move us to the stars
a-way to find the planet Mars.----
Robots Dance
Robots Sing
Robots Rule
Robots Love
Robots Drive
Robots... Alive!
Robots DIE!
________
Steel in My Soul
There is laughter in the air; there’s a voice on the wing.
God’s the greatest dramatist in everything–
Resist the better angel, ’cause it’s a bitter stranger.
What doesn’t kill you keeps you out of danger.
Saints alive! Saints alive!
In the hidden heart.
I don’t know where I come from,
Don’t know where I’ve been.
But I’ve got steel in my soul.
Ain’t no luck in the air….
I know all that I need is passion and truth.
Give me back my youth
and I’ll give it to you.
Running like mad in the waking dream,
(I) can’t get back to the living connection.
I can’t find shelter for my own protection.
I’ve got steel in my soul, steel in my soul, steel in my soul –Ain’t stealin’ my soul.
Won’t make the Faustian bargain, gotta retract the deal.
Mephistopheles will have to find another soul to steal.
And a mysterious comfort puts its arms around you
and holds you close and tells you,
“It’s alright. It’s alright.”
“Sleep tonight. Sleep tonight.”
[Alternate ending: tribute to Paul Williams/”Phantom of the Paradise”:
"All the devils that disturbed me and the angels that defeated them somehow...
come together in me now..."]
________
Alone Under Sky
Birth, for the first time…
The deeper life is grave.
And then something comes I don’t expect
When suddenly I know… I’m not alone under sky.
Hiding behind a night,
each birth brings us closer to the sweet release.
It’s an unseen God.
It’s a limitless love.
And the kingdoms come and they run from the gun.
They can’t see.
It can’t be.
What slumbers in our souls?
Arousals are the signals.
And in the roar of thunder
a discovery is made.
We are at the centre of a great new world!
Never alone. Never unborne.
Always alone
Never alone. Never unborne.
Always alone
beneath a cruel, cruel sky.
________
Melancholia
[the doors of Death, Life and Chance]
Time grows heavy - I long for the fog.
Vivid light - too crude, too bright -
revealed too much of me.
Sometimes we must know the darkness of the mind.
Go the night sea journey blind through the suffering of the soul,
“to learn to love with a love that’s more than love.”
We are the sheep - thrust in a world of danger and chance,
nourished and destroyed, awakened from the trance.
Forces sever, yet link us to the Flow.
I bathe in the light-drenched realm of the afterglow.
Darkened spheres attract the distant flame.
Open up these human doors, distancing from evil.
Show mercy to the sad-despised...
our highest instincts following the light.
Hush-- the silence -
The passing of this sadness is creative breath released.
Ascend the spirit ladder - past melancholia.
These are the great moods -
the lenses through which we read our minds
to become the living soul (reach through the doors of death, life and chance). (rep)
Notions and sensations of such solitude
are simply daylight’s night mood.
Open up these human doors, distancing from evil.
Show mercy to the sad-despised...
our highest instincts following the light.
Ascend the spirit ladder - past melancholia.
These are the great moods ---
________
In Transition
Vox, like a frightened sound, moved me…
sounding like the demons leaving.
Tore at the fears of my soul.
I can’t fear those things, I know.
(But) phoenix moved me most when she’s in flight.
Ignited pyre, consumed in flames of light.
That’s the way I am.
It’s just the way we are.
In transition for the moment… here and now.
Repeat the cycle out of ashes.
It’s the moment of transition.
Passing from life to death to birth -
the death of love, the birth of life.
The keenest sense of mourning loss of time.
Letting go of hours is a crime.
Feeling the change, seeing the score,
we’ll come lately, never more.
Don’t explain or justify.
Define and mourn but just don’t cry.
Fashion is two people that keep living.
Justice never sees to it they’re giving.
That’s the way I am.
It’s just the way we are.
In transition for the moment… here and now.
________
The Great Joys
[a journey through past, present, future]
Enlightenment rushes from inside and I’m feeling so alive
to experience the joys in the Land of Memory.
So take me to the Kingdom of the Future
where in the rose-awakening
my water’s smile is amber dew
and blue of dawn can’t break
the harmony of the whole.
I’ll carry all that’s wanted
to give new light
to the dimmest eyes so they can see
on the inside.
Mystic drama moves within
as I want eternal present.
And the evil that devours me
is the fruit of my own choice.
And when my intuition fails,
I ignored that still small voice.
Let the heavens weep -
and the stars will rain -
to heal and cleanse -
my deepest pain.
I’ll catch the rein
of truth and ride away.
Escape me to the shadows of my inner world
where I’ve lost my laughter behind silent doors,
and cried such sorrow;
endlessly I paced the floors.
To poison all these joys
and destroy my own inner child
is the crime I can’t forgive… oh no!
In the great beyond
is an unknown guest
who hides such secrets in treasure chests
where I should find locked inside
the hidden riches of the soul
just waiting for me
to bring them to the light -
These Great Joys – RUSH – in me!