Blood on the Street.

Blood on the street..words to a story left untold...spilled paint on an empty canvas...art that will never be sold...Blood on the side-walk...shimmering in the streetlight...turns to rust beneath the sun...cold rain washes it out of sight. Blood on the street.

Ms. Elmira

I took a walk just the other day. I saw my neighbor, Ms. Elmira, along the way. She was walking her dog, his name is Spot. It's kinda funny cuz Spot's a Rot. She swears up and down she saw Elvis at circle K. She reads the Enquirer and watches Oprah every day. She ain't got much money cuz she's a sucker for a deal. She's keeps a prayer cloth under her pillow and she thinks pro. wrestling is for real. She's Ms. Elmira.

The Devil you created.

You've created your own gods and devils. You have divided the land and exiled your brothers into the barren desert to be eaten by vultures. You have destroyed their cities and plundered their villages. You have killed their women and children in the name of your god. The day of Judgment is at hand. The blood of the slain cry's out from the ground. The oppressed have united against you. Action to reaction, the pendulum swings. You have cast the arch-angel from heaven, You have banished Adam from the garden. You exiled Hagar and Ishmael into the wasteland. You have claimed possession over that which you have no right to possess. You have dug your own grave, created your own devil, and made your bed in hell. They have established their own kingdom and created their own god. Their god as well requires blood for the remission of sins. Vengeance is the lords. They write their own book. They have their own commandments and prophecies...the red letter edition...the warrior prophets inscribe their letters with the blood of their oppressors. They spell RESTITUTION. You may run but you can't hide. Your sins will find you out. The law of restitution will not be thwarted by your false authorities. Justice will prevail and you will pay for your sins. You will reap what you have sown. God requires blood for the remission of sins. 

James Dean.

I wear my heart on my sleeve, just like James Dean...A box of lucky strikes and a book of matches. I wear my heart on my sleeve, just like James Dean...I ain't got nowhere else to put it. Maybe someday, someday I'll fly away, but today I think I'll stay underneath this golden sun. I'm gonna roam these streets with my guitar and my dirty knees cuz I still got a song to play.

Prayer to a Goddess.

Please allow me to Love you. I am willing and able. Everything that I have, I bring to your table. Please take my hand as I make my stand. For the right woman I'll be a good man. Love me True. Treat me right. I will worship you every day and night. My Goddess my queen of my life and my dreams, You are the one for whom my soul sings. You fill my heart with a burning desire. You are the spark that sets my soul on fire.

The moment is Now.

Pulling in...creating a space for myself...Solitude...Reflection...Taking time in the moment to remember the cycle of history that has led me to this very moment. This moment of NOW is a mark on the arc of a circle...I am suspended between the past and the future..HERE is the spot on the sphere. I am here and now. This is where the universe has led me and this is where I shall be until the cosmos urges me elsewhere. To BE in the present is to see the whole sphere...the entire circle represented in a micro-cosmical caricature which is this present moment of NOW. This moment contains both the past and the future in the present. The past does not exist as the past anymore. It has been encompassed in this moment. The remnants remain in a different form. The temple has been rebuilt from the ruins of the old. The future has not yet been written.

Lady Shiva.

I looked into her eyes and by god there where three. One was in the middle of her forehead staring at me. Peering thru the smoke she told me of her dreams. She had lived over 2000 years, had a one night stand with Jesus Christ, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. She seduced siddartha sitting under the Lotus tree. She fed him enlightenment in increments...inhale...exhale...he ate of the tree of knowledge with his head between her thighs as she moaned in extasy seeing visions simultaniously, shouting blessings and curses vehemently as she evaporated into the sun again penetrating thru the atmosphere in her acsencion, coming back again as precipitation to water the lilies of the field and the tongues of the damned and the birds and the bees spread her seeds throughout the land as she pulled in the tide with a wave of her hand. The sun and the moon...Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu...Death, Life, and Rebirth, and the cycle continues...the temple is destroyed and rebuilt from the ruins... You should put a bandanna over that so as not to freak people out I told her, and she told me of a dream she dreamt last week...she woke up dead on the kitchen floor with a slice of pizza stuck to the side of her face...remembering her life as if it was a dream someone had dreamt sometime so long ago.