The Center of the Sun.

Rythyms and circles and cycles
Gyrations of the soul
the orbits of the sun and moon
the tides of the sea
the way your body moves
to the waves of energy
the wind and the water
the earth and the fire
all reaching to the one
the nucleaus of the matter
the heart of the stone
the center of the Sun.

Liza Rose

I left my pen in Liza's purse and she took it down to Mexico...along with my heart. But she holds it so well in the palm of her hand and she sings my blues away. she soothes away my troubles and she soothes my fiery rage. She chases away my demons and she locks them in a cage...and she holds my heart so softly...in the palm of her hand.
she's got angels on the tips of her fingers and a fire in her soul...and when we're apart i feel this deep hole...in my chest...and she's calling me softly, pulling me into her world and that's o.k. by me cuz she's my girl. She knows who I am and she loves me even so...you know, i'm still here but soon i gotta go. I'm heading down south where the cocaine grows. If its the last thing i do i'm bound for Mexico...cuz nothing means more to me than Liza Rose.
Liza Rose
Liza Rose
she took off with my heart
way down south where the cocaine grows
Liza Rose
Liza Rose
She took off with my heart
down to Mexico.

Fredrick Douglas was sippin tea with Susan B. Anthony
i was sittin on a park bench swillin on a 40
thinkin bout Jesus and the Devil and Me...
but mostly...
I was thinking bout Liza Rose
She's got my soul and she's holdin my heart
I never work for the man but I think I'll start
cuz I gotta get my passport and stack up some dough
and there's a war going on I better learn the lingo
cuz i'm heading down south where the cocaine grows
I just wanna be there with Liza Rose.

James Dean

I wear my heart on my sleeve
just like james dean...
a pack of lucky strikes and book of matches...
I just ain't got no other place to put it.

everything that I own fits into a sack
I walk the streets, my guitar on my back
I just ain't got no other place to put it.

I ain't got no place to lay my head...
you can't kill me cuz i'm already dead...
I just ain't found a place to rest my bones.

Temple Divided.

The gods and the devils
the mythologies
the tribes, the nations
the lands and the seas
we're guided and divided
by these dualities
the demons have invaded the forest
and cut down the trees
like a virus
invading the body with disease
raping the land
and polluting the seas
writing their lies
on the pages of once living flesh
parchments of stone that they heave on the heads
of my people.

There is a crack along the cieling in the temple as the pillars shake.
The earth cries out in anger.
Come out of her my people!
The temple is falling down!
The curtain is torn asunder
Remove your shoes and bow down.
you are standing on holy ground
Pacha Mamma y Pappa Sol
the veil is torn
gaze upon the face of your lover
and fear no evil man.

open your hearts and turn on your heads and rage against the dying of the light.
all the rivers flow into one sea. scattered raindrops unite creating one entity.
Divided we fall, but together we rise...
Into the Sun.

2%ers.

98 percent of the population use only 5 percent of their brains and even less of their wills. We have been brainwashed into believing that a higher power outside of us is in control and we are powerless to choose our own destiny's. Instead of combining our will and intelligence, utilizing our rescources from within to without, recognising that we are connected with all of the universe and have access to all of the rescources and energy we need to create our own realities right at our fingertips. I am but a parcel of this universe but I am one with the universe. The cosmos is an extension of myself. Every blade of grass, grain of sand, gust of wind, or drop of rain is just a part of me. I am a part of the whole. The universe is a living body of which I am a cell.
Those in control wish to use ignorance as a tool for domination. Their education is designed to stunt the mental and psycic capabilities of our children. It is a process of raping their minds, dulling their senses, emasculating their imaginations and yoking their backs to the corporate plow; indroctrinating them into a servile populace that can be used to turn the wheels of their machine.
Just as soldiers are brain-washed, trained to be brute, cold-blooded killers, just a cog in the wheel of a fascist war machine, students are being broken like horses and castrated like cattle, herded and prodded into an opprossed and servile existance.
The 2%ers are those of us who break the yokes of mental and physical slavery and create a new world for ourselves and our loved ones. we are the pilgrims of a new world. and we create it everyday.

The character in the mirror.

The ego is an illusion. It is an idealized image of ourselves that exists only in our minds. The ego is a character in a play. We are all students of this stage. Are we memorizing lines, trying to dance in time to the rythm and the ryme? ...Or are we writing our own script and mending our own costumes? "What a man thinks of himself, that is which determines, or rather, indicates his fate." Thoreaux said that. "As a man thinketh, so he is." I can't remember who said that...google it. We all choose our own role. whether it be the king or the peasent, The master or the slave...
The ego is a reflection of who we imagine ourselves to be, who we aspire to be is what we become. Who am I? I am I. to be self...pure self...is to be alone. Only when we are alone do we take off our mask and our costume and slip out of that role, whatever it may be, and become truly ourselves.
Are we puppets? Outward manifestations of some omni-present puppet master in the sky, or are we masters of our own fate? Are our hands instruments of our own free will or are they subject to the whims of some Omni-present puppet master in the sky?

I guess I'm doing all-right.

Sometimes I feel like i'm on top of the world.
Sometimes I feel a step away from dying for no reason at all.
The pendalum swings from one extreme to the other without ryme or reason.
Maybe i'm crazy.
Maybe I'm out of my mind.
A chemical imbalance?
Residual effects of all the times i've altered my concsiousness?
Or maybe it's an occupational hazard of being an artist.
Feeling so much...
Trying to keep my head intact and both feet on the ground seems to be my main occupation these days.
But, I guess I'm doing all-right.