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Doors - Notebook Poems lyrics
TALES OF THE AMERICAN NIGHT
 Discovery
 Angels & Sailors (rich girls)
 Backyard fences, tents
 dreams watching each other
 narrowly
 Soft luxuriant cars
 Girls in garages
 stripped, out to get
 liquor & clothes
 Half-gallons of wine
 & six-packs of beer
 Tender corral. Jumped.
 Humped. Born to suffer.
 Made to undress in
 the wilderness
CAN WE RESOLVE THE PAST
 - Hey man you want girls
 Pills grass come-on
 I show you good time
 This place has everything
 Come-on, I show you
Burlesque Beat
Can we resolve the past -- lurking jaws
 joints of Time -- the base -- to come
 of age in a dry place -- holes & caves
 The music was new black polished
 chrome & came over the summer
 like liquid night -- the D.J.'s
 Took pills to stay awake & play
 for 7 days
 The General's son had a sister.
 They went down to see him.
 They went to the studio & someone
 knew him. Someone knew
 the T.V. Showman.
 He came to our home room party &
 played records & when he left,
 in the hot noon sun, & walked
 to his car, we saw the Chooks
 had written F-U-C-K on his
 windshield. He wiped it off
 w/ a white rag &, smiling cooly,
 drove away.
"He's rich. Got a big car."
 My friend drove an hour each day
 from the Mts. The bus gives
 you a hard-on w/books in your
 lap. We shot the bird at the
 black M.P.
 My gang will get you. Scenes
 of rape in the arroyo. Seductions
 in cars, abandoned buildings.
 Fights at the food stand.
 The dust. The Shoes
 Opened shirts & raised collars.
 Bright sculptured hair.
 Spades dance best, from the hip.
 Someone shot the bird on the
 afternoon dance show. They gave
 out free records to the best
 couple.
ALWAYS A PLAYGROUND INSTRUCTOR
 Always a playground instructor,
 never a killer. Always a bridesmaid
 on the verge of fame, or over,
 he maneuvered 2 girls into his
 hotel room. One, a friend,
 and a newer stranger, vaguely
 Mexican or Puerto Rican.
 Poor boy's thighs & buttocks, scarred
 by a father's belt. She's trying
 to rise. Story of her boyfriend
 & teen-age stone death games.
 Handsome cat, dead in a car.
 Come here
 I love you.
 Peace on earth
 Will you die for me
 eat me
 this way
 the end
 - I'm surprised you could get it up.
 He whips her lightly, sardonically
 w/ belt.
 - Haven't I been thru enough? she asks.
 The dark girl begins to bleed.
 It's Catholic heaven. I have an
 ancient Indian crucifix around
 my neck. My chest is hard
 & brown. Lying on stained &
 wretched sheets w/ a bleeding Virgin.
 We could plan a murder, or
 Start a religion.
I WANT TO TELL YOU
 I want to tell you
 about
 Texas Radio & the Big Beat
 it comes out of the Virgin Swamps
 cool & slow
 w/ plenty of precision
 & a back beat narrow
 & hard to master
 some call it heavenly
 in its brilliance
 other mean & rueful
 of the Western dream
 I love the friends I have
 gathered together
 On this thin raft
 we have constructed pyramids
 in honor of our escaping
 This is the land where
 The pharaoh died --
 Children
 The river contains specimens
 The voices of singing women
 call us on the far shore
 & they are saying
 "Forget the Night
 live w/ us in Forests
 of azure"
 (meager food for souls forgot)
 I tell you this;
 no eternal reward will
 forgive us now for
 wasting the dawn
 One morning you awoke
 & the strange sun
 & opening your door...
NOW LISTEN TO THIS
 "Now listen to this:
 I'll tell you about
 Texas Radio & the Big Beat
 Soft driven slow & mad
 like some new language
 Reaching your head
 w/ the cold & sudden fury
 of a divine messenger
 Let me tell you about
 heartache & the loss
 of God
 Wandering, wandering
 in hopeless night
 The negroes in the forest
 brightly feathered
 let me show you the maiden
 w/ wrought-iron soul
 Out here on the perimeter
 there are no stars
 Out here we is stoned
 immaculate"
TIME WORKS LIKE ACID
 Time works like acid
 Stained eyes
 You see time fly
 The face changes as the heart beats
 & breathes
 We are not constant
 We are an arrow in flight
 The sum of the angles of change
 Her face changed in the car
 eyes & skin & hair remain
 the same. But a hundred similar
 girls succeed each other
THE SIDEWALKERS MOVED...
 The sidewalkers moved faster
 We joined the current. Suddenly
 the cops, plastic shields & visors,
 wielding long thin truncheons
 like wands, in formation,
 clearing the street the other way.
 To get near or stay away.
 Cafes were taking in tables
 putting chairs on upside
 down, pulling teh steel playpen
 safety bars. Whistles as
 the vans arrive. Moustached
 soldiers. We leave the scene.
 Eyes of youth, wary, gleaming.
 The church. A pastoral scene
 of guitars, drums, flutes,
 harps, & lovers. Past
 Shakespeare & Co., the restaurants
 w/ elegant patrons, cross
 street, the small Jazz
 district (Story Ville) a
 miniature New Orleans.
 Negroes in African shirts.
 A street brass band.
 "Fare well to my web footed friends"
 Crowd smiles, jogs, & sings.
 Move past. San Michel Blvd.
 The Statue. The Seine. Bonfires
 of cardboard buzz evilly,
 down the blvd. Fire-tenders.
 Smell of smoke. Approach closer
 nearer. Suddenly screams
 long warhoops & the crowd runs
 back. And as we flee,
 they attack from behind,
 Pressed against cafe tables.
 Subway & news Kiosk -- A
 girl beaten, her cries. Can't
 hear blows. Rain. (Man w/ bottle)
 Join me at the demonstration
 We join groups under trees
 & rain. Tall public buildings.
Join us at the demonstration
Dreams are at once fruit & outcry
 against an atrophy of the senses.
Dreaming is no solution
WE AWOKE, TALKING...
 We awoke, talking. Telling dreams.
 an explosion during the night
 A new siren. Not cop, Fire,
 New York ambulance or european
 movie riot news but the strange
 siren predicting war. She ran
 to the window. The yellow thing
 had risen.
FEAR IS A PORCH...
 Fear is a porch where winds
 slide thru in the North
 A face at the Window that
 becomes a leaf
 An eagle sensing its disaster
 But soaring gracefully above
 A rabbit shining in the night
STILL WET FROM...
 Still wet from a strange dream
 dawn burst
 scarring the chamber's
 roof where all things lie
I sat w/ her & sipped cold sherry
 Airport.
 (Caesura = ante-room to hell)
START AGAIN
 Start again: Should the events of those
 days... Dream of incest & expulsion
 from the tribe. Big Sister. It's called
 the clap. Get on over here, mother-of-pearl.
 I was a virgin. It lasted 10 seconds.
 Well don't then. "I can't relax." Roll the
 leather pants up tightly for the morrow
 hour.
 They deserted me, deserted the cause, message
 or word for another god. "We're kicking
 you out of our universe!" He ask'd for you.
 I'll bet he did.
MYSTERY OF THE DREAM
 Mystery of the dream
 a woman or girl is trying
 to appear
 The Killer -- Mexican, naked
 except for shoes.
 People, a family not connected
 move at hypnotic cross lines
 out of still frame
 2 men, detectives, following
 searching, sifting thru
 back & side lit rooms, holding
 muted counsel. Hats, suits.
 Brothers.
 People in a wood, a park.
 The Killer lurks in his
 own world.
 dreams of children & families
 return to the sub-world
 to assimilate & guide events
 New Orleans, sleep, (death's
 friend, death's sister)
 cattle, horses
 faces get rubbery, clown-painted,
 stupid sly & wise & knowing
 The mystery of flight
 To be inside the brain of a bird
 goal -- the end of a goddess
 to slide gracefully &
 knowledgeably into graveland
 The Big dream
 vs
 Violent assassination of
 Spirit & neck & skull
 wounded he arrived
THE DARK AMERICAN SUNSET
 The dark American Sunset
 The night like a vast
 conspiracy to dream, hold
 court in the swaying sand
 Tijuana -- the anus of Night
 a cartoon of civilization
 Whores are bores in the
 American Night
 What will we see in the
 bowels of the night, in
 The frosted cave where dreams
 are made, right before your
 eyes. Prophecy w/out money.
 This song must have the sad
 common strangeness of currency
 coin of the realm. Bitter
 embers. Scent of pine smoke
 Fire-Night, special breeding
 exercises. An excuse for
 crime. High School of the
 Night. Silence of a school
 at night.
L'AMERICA
 Acid dreams & Spanish Queens
 L'america (another?, lone?, voice)
 Asthma child, the fumidor
 Lamerica
 Duchess, rabbit, the woods by the road
 Lamerica
 Pearl Harbor -- Shot off the road
 Lamerica
 Conceived in a beach Town
 Lamerica
 Relevance of beach or Lakes
 Lamerica
 Sinks, snakes, caves w/ water
 Florida
 Homo/-sex/-uality
 Lamerica
 Religion & the Family
 Lamerica
 Plane crash in the Eastern Woods
 Virginia
 Bailing-out over rice-fields
 Lamerica
 Guerrilla band inside the town
 Lamerica
 Bitter tree of consciousness
 Lamerica
 A fast car in the night -- the road
 Lamerica
 Progress of The Good Disease
 Lamerica
AMERICA AS BULLRING ARENA
 Those indians, dreams, &
 the cosmic spinal bebop in blue.
 The cosmic horrors. The cosmic
 heebeejeebies. A combo of brain
 tissue, blood, shit, sweat
 sperm & steel, mixed w/ grease
 & liquid fire, ovaric calendars
 Magnified on inner
 Television lust-face, mirrors
 into Nothing, great silence
 opens layers of prehistoric
 chinese monsters. The mouths,
 the mouths, the cellular MAW.
 A young Witch from
 N.Y. is laying novice hexes
 on my brain-pan, projecting
 images of embryo development
 on my psychology.
 Her terrified wildness
 disturbs my generals.
 Baby, now I dig your
 nightmare visions, & your
 sadness & your bitchery
 But, yet, thank you for
 These spells. It gets my
 pen moving.
 The screaming maggot
 group-grope called life.
It's time for the desert wild.
Lust capital.
 Time for an island, get
 drunk, write & sail.
 "I saw the Hell of women
 back there."
Women are obsolete
"Little Wine -- dig that girl"
 We placate women w/
 food & song
 w/ sex, marriage, babies
You dig kids, Jim
Yeah, some of them are nice
I like your wife
Democracy of souls
THE GUIDED TOUR
 The guided tour
 "I am a guide to the labyrinth"
 city is inside of body made manifest
 meat organs & electrical
 power plants
 The place where, walking down
 death-row ("You look like you're"),
 maps -- AMERICUS -- a river-vein
 we ride along.
give form to the passing world
 Freeways are a drama, a new
 art form. Signs. Houses.
 Faces. Loud gabble of Blacks
 at a bus-stop.
CAR CEMETERY
 car cemetery
 The abandoned cars
 The color of car paint, new at night
 under neon
 The dead reside in cars
 -- the old man, filthy,
 keeper of the graveyard
 Children, curious, throw stones
PLEASE LIKE ME
 please like me
 says the shrew
 what can I do?
 I love her.
WOMAN'S VOICE
 Woman's Voice:
 The palace of sperm seems warm tonight
 Man:
 Umm. gloom gloom doom ruin.
 Woman:
 Marble porches. The grand ball room.
 Silver smiles. Trumpets. Dancing
 Man
 I want only you
 Woman
 This time come in me like an astronaut
 Send snakes in my orbit
 Man
 We can accomplish miracles
 when we're together.
 Woman
 Alone
 Man
 w/ the night to guide us
DON'T START THAT...
 Don't start that panic
 Love Street parade
No one's afraid of the law
 Someone escaped
 To the shore
 Your image of me / my image of you
 in
 one-night scenes
 out on the coast
Won't work anymore
 Soft parade
 Love Street brigade
I BRING THESE...
 I bring these few rags
 back home this evening
 & lay them at your feet
 Miserable witness
 to a day of tragic
 sadness & disbelief
 Hope you'll find me wanting
 Take me to bed
 Get me drunk (lay me out)
THE WEDDING-DRESS
 The bride-to-be lies in her bed
 listening to
 Festivities below
 He steals her -- in a dream
STAR FISH GLUTTONY
 Star fish gluttony
 What are the word-forms
 for co(s)mic encounter
 wedding flesh & mind
 in one body
TENDER ISLAND NIGHT
 Tender island Night
 And a promise of fever
 & scars that burst
 at blossom depths
 & more green silver
 Us wrestling in the warm temple of summer
 beside the temple
 cool inside
 -- He took my hand.
 He spoke to me --
 Black horse hooves galloping sun
 mad chariot race burning
 mad fiery chariot race
 mad girl & mad boy
 My feathered son flew
 too near to the sun.
A MOVING
 a moving
 or movement
 away from
 a station
(weigh station)
Sound of lone car & low radio
 A waving [good-bye to relations]
 a way from |
 a waving |
 a motion
 amazement
 a moment
 amazing
 a waving
(call radio breaks in)
 Uh, we have a message
 brak brak
HE FOLLOWS A WOMAN...
 He follows a woman into the firmament
 The solids, sonnets
 elaborate requisitions for the god-soul
 ah my bright jewelled town
 a Widow's band
 roping sailors & hill-folk together
 congeal on this flat spire
 to partake of mineral jets
 "he's sick" he should be sleeping
 peaceful by air, a movie of dead nights
 in a wound, suffer to give out
 your red-blue lighter's flame
 w/ calm precision
 your certainty lives in a match
 or a mind
 The huts are free evening cliff-dwellers
 The trees, losing their variance, die sadlyDoors - Notebook Poems - http://motolyrics.com/doors/notebook-poems-lyrics.html
 w/ grandeur
 O soft redness & palest blue
 like a babie's window
 This is the hour you rule
 & invite Ventures, quests,
 trips to the electric valley down
PROMISES
"Mana Man"
 He gets them into the dark hour
 By playing singing stories hypnosis
 wilderness the island
 Led out of bondage(back there)
 Viciously peeling fruit
 Disguised as "Players"
 command Performance
 See-thru village
 old hot forest of cars
 cruel ambience
 Leopard snake dance
 swift lions of doubt
 crouch in the window
 & wait
 for her to come
DO YOU HAVE
 do you have
 straight jackets
 for the guests
 yes we do
HORSE LATITUDES
 When the still sea conspires an armor
 And her sullen and aborted
 Currents breed tiny monsters,
 True sailing is dead.
 Awkward instant
 And the first animal is jettisoned,
 Legs furiously pumping
 Their stiff green gallop,
 And heads bob up
 Poise
 Delicate
 Pause
 Consent
 In mute nostril agony
 Carefully refined
 And sealed over
THE ORIGINAL TEMPTATION...
 The original temptation was to destroy.
 The Cliffs. The Road. The Walls.
 Original heroism -- to bluff the elements
 of fire. To call creatures into the storm.
 The original heroism was to fall. To ball.
 The All. Natural man.
 To participate in the creation.
 To screw things up. To bring Things
 into being.
 The Crossroads where the car hides.
 Lies. Resides. A meeting-place
 of Worlds. Where dreams are made.
 Where anything is possible. Demons
 lie.
 The car is steel & chrome. The wood-pile.
 Top of the pile. The heap. The graveyard.
 Where metal is reduced to its common
 mute element. To be reborn. A tale
 of rebirth in the wilderness. To become
 chaos & come back.
 2 spade chicks, or a king & queen,
 comment from the balcony.
 The types of society pass on the boards.
 Microcosm in a thimble
TIMES CHANGE, DAMAGED
 times change, damaged
 cat's blood rectify in haste
 cactus furrows, wild
 thrift catalog of grace
 The chase bore inward
 raise'd wet & westward shadows
 To the strange trust
 on the south bow
 Augment pure shouter's drawl
 & light the candle
 Night is comin' on
 & we're outnumbered
 By the waves, each soldier
 bristling w/ his trowel
 To search & claim us
 Teach our burial
 The mind works wonders
 for a spell, the lantern breathes
 enlightens, then farewell
 Each shipmate oars to under-
 stand & eyes unoptic strains
 to hear:
 We came from over here,
 to over there
 Then old we wonder
 mindless to degree
 Most seldom furls
 in slumber, burns
 begins a century
PLANES ARE GROANING MOTHERS
 Planes are groaning mothers
 In our feeble insect wars.
 Nylon condoms stream behind her Trojan
 Warriors on their dreadful writhing flight.
 Bailed out, sucked
 from her metal belly,
 one thin wire is left to prophecy return,
 jump freely.
 Swallowing air in the brief canal.
 The ground leaps up like dogs
 to snap, the field, & rolling pain.
 Swamps, rice fields, danger.
 Gunned down, over ten of them
 struggling w/ the wet placenta
 While some land back in oceans.
 Skin-divers float, free-float,
 in the uterus.
 The sea is a Vagina which
 may be penetrated at any point.
AH, THE RULE...
 Ah, the rule was war, as friendship
 faltered. Families quarrelled, as usual,
 in their chambers. The race suffered.
 We traveled. We left home & beauty.
 Ah, into these ship, again, we hastened.
 The creation of power is slow-wasted.
 Borrowed fillings. Brace for the brine.
 Heaven kept, hour dated. Winds fermented
 madness & kept parlour rife & rancind.
 Crews took leave of sour concubines
 & habits. The sea is no place for a lady.
 Lads larked & frolicked, pulvering waves
 they would seek into the deep. Ark! Ark!
 Cathay or Venice. Worlds beyond, &
 Worlds after.
 This story has no moral.
 Trust not sleep or sorrow.
 The fife-man croons the lull to wake
 & Brings strong soldiers to a windy beach
ENSENADA
 India ink, ink of India
 There are no more rich colors
 Black neon, blocks away,
 Escapes back smooth
 in the desert sea.
 There's an appearance of sweat
 on Italian silk skin.
 Slap the rude face, & twist
 into the doorway.
 Then reappear, w/ drums & glass
 in jewels of laughter as one
 called "The Gladiator,"
 Hair claimed by flame of fire
 (Insulting to be back.
 The dreaded, dismal day.)
 Jail is a pussy coil,
 dry as meat, dog-faced,
 clever.
(Handsome dog & the shot gun eye.)
 We leap the wall, dog & I,
 To hang choking on fence collar chain.
 Mate follows leap to suffer
 String-throat, hollow, madness cry.
(In this "hollow" we were born.)
 Mexican Khaki, the green womb.
 Distrust all lovely words like green & womb.
 (Obey the father.
 Run.)
 Escape back into the landscape,
 dry as meat, dusty, narrow.
 Dog licks shit
 Mexican girl whore sucks my prick.
 (Open windows on the town.
 Open pores on foreign air.)
 The car rasps quiet.
 Motor destroys itself on rotten fuel.
 The pump is ill.
 The hose has a steel nozzle.
FLESH OF HER...
 Flesh of her rolls flesh away
 in waves, The waters part
 dry scalps beneath the hair
 nude-white & very rare
 And when she exits bed, the barge
 To bathe in ocean's tile & under
 surgeon's glare, blinking
 I bask on the red floor of a Red Sea
 Crime begins in the bed, the home,
 It's a low tide that talks
 to rocks, & leaves
 rust in its wake, & dry things crackling.
I FUCKED THE DREGS...
 I fucked the dregs of the ruins
 of an empire
 I fucked the dust and the
 horrible queen
 I fucked the chick at the
 gates of the Maya
 I fucked all your women
 & treated the same
 w/ respect for your warriors
 returned from the
 Kingdom
 fucked w/ the Negroes
 in cabs of the drivers
 Fucked little infants of North
 Indo-China
 Branded w/ Napalm & screaming
 in pain
PENCILLED HEAVEN
 pencilled heaven
 my regards
 no when to stop
THERE'S SOMEONE AT THE DOOR
 There's someone at the door.
 A rapist rushes in.
 No pain. No death.
It's us, over & over again.
 We're coming in.
 All right, search the place.
 You won't find anything.
Seeing all perspectives at once.
When everything freezes
 & kind of turns back
 in on itself.
FEAST GREEN BEAST...
 feast green beast, spurred on by
 sex, seasoned in silence, w/held
 from slumber, silent in the deep pale
 night beast languid a cool a cunt
 a forest flower awoken now breathe
 utter a word of reproach for fair
 swifty flyers agon of night
 The dream car the outlaw star
 now he sits reclines in a terrible mansion
 made more monstrous by the dark stroke
 of slumber
 The car is purple foil beast dead in the
 night. Neon is its sign his rich home
 soft luxuriant car death gave grace
 shaken to the soil He stood in a strange
 centre by the meeting pt. of worlds
 This crossroads of desert flies the
 corpse of sand batteries the ignition
 What did happen! He screams at camera
 Here she lie bleeding, blue wounds
 just to tell us in our floppy hats
 it's over. The cops are rubber animals
 w/ surgeons cold pride, w/out their
 glamour. The ambulance attendants
 are sudden amateurs, good-natured in
 this foreign chore. The cliffs no longer
 contain faces. "I know what jail is
 like" & "I know about time."
 So we played the carnival. Car. Carne.
 Feast of meat. Celebration of blood.
O lucky ones who enjoy the dumb show
 The reptile farm. The snake farm.
 Woman & Monkey. The sign. The sign.
 Search for the Tree. The place. The sink
 Big Dismal
 Goes in 2 ways. Spirit & Meat. (sex)
 You cannot join what can't be joined
 You cannot travel 2 roads
 (He road off in all directions)
Hand Grenade
VERY BRAVE
 Very brave
 all the rage
 to tempt loneliness
 upon Front page
 gold head lines
 w/ Ali Khan & all the rest
 Onassis, Blues
 BB Albert Collins
 gin & tonic
 give him a high martin i
 get him down
 the prancing clown
 will bring the empire
 swooping swirling
 Tunneling Thundering Tumbling
 hell, O, down
 (That's as down as I can
 get right now, on a
 Mainstream, & I am pretty
 high, far gone)
 Thank god I have the
 Sweet warm promise of
 a woman there to keep
 me warm
 So this is where my fine warm
 poetry (pottery) has got
 me,
 led me
 back to Madness
 & the men who made
 me
YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW...
You think I don't know that!
 your poetry is so obsessed
 I like my madmen cold
 The abandoned Hotel
 flowers dirt on its walls
 The labyrinth of bowels
 Moves slowly in grim waste
 Children play here, wait
 & sway here, tiring to her
 swoon arched summer
 and languid by the bow
 Sits Esther, made up
 like a queen, port in
 a storm, striking fire-bells
 in her drawers, chalking
 the black street w/ wild lies
THE BLUES
 O how could this be done to me
 great dancer's Witness
 God, you are a satyr in disguise
 Thus cruelly & uselessly to
 Rend my life awry
 I'll lie here stolen, in cold wind
 in the road, until peace freezes
 over,
 & hallows me.
 Rude ghost bastard.
 Ah! Who comes now.
AN AFTERNOON OF SUMMER
 an afternoon of summer
 dread
 I'm afraid to meet all
 the rest of my brothers
 in distress
 Couldn't we get in one
 big Movie
 Blow it all on one
 Grand Floozie
 & end it all
 YAH
 YEAH
 an autograph sends respects
 to her Twin
 everyone wants a Christ
 & no one will give it to him
 Mohammed, the enchanter
 Keeper of Harems
 Buddha, inkindergardened
 under his tree, w/
 not a moon-glow
 mindless Thought for you
 & me
 (This does not mean I want
 or wish to be prey to people
 God forbid)
 & look at the steeple
 a mindless wit am I
 dickless, looking at the sky
A HOLE IN THE CLOUDS
 a hole in the clouds
 where a mind hides
 Pagodas -- temples
in child's raw hope
 animal in a tunnel
 defined by the light
 around him
 These evil subsidies
 these shrouds
 surround
IF IT'S NO PROBLEM
 If it's no problem, why mention it.
 Everything spoken means that,
 it's opposite, & everything else.
 I'm alive, I'm dying.
THE END OF THE RAINBOW
The end of the rainbow
 put all my screaming phantasies
 into one giant
 Box-trap
 image of self-image-propagation
 image of elation
 Ungulation
 limit 1st tree
 image of Utopia
 a slaughter of phantoms
innocent -- guilty
 The Human World
 bounded by words
 & dust
 sweet soft & velvet
 dust
medium trust
HEAVEN OR HELL...
 Heaven or Hell the circus
 of your actions
 To Play
 (chance is god here)
 at Carnival
 assuage the guilt
 The deep fear
The separate loneliness
 open Sinygog
 open sesame
 The Party of new connections
 mind made free
 Love cannot save you
 from your own fate
 Art cannot soothe
 Words cannot tame
 The Night
SCOUR THE MIND...
 Scour the mind w/ diamond
 brushes. Cleanse into Mandalas.
 Memory keeps us wicked & warm.
 The Time temple. Who'll go 1st?
 Cloaked figures huddled by walls.
 A head moves clocklike slowly.
 I'm coming. Wait for me.
LESSONS ON BECOMING
 Lessons on becoming
 a revolutionary
 an actor
 (prophet!)
 or a poet
 There's still good friends
 to assist & relieve you
 Mercenary whim
 for her or for him
 First become a
 Visionary-Scientist
 radiocal biochemical
 aviationary sky-diver
 Then contact your local pub-
 lic accountant (he'll tell you
 how to spread the seeds of doubt)
MAIDS ARE BICKERING...
 Maids are bickering in the hall
 The day is warm
 Last night's perfume
 I lie alone in this
 cool room
 My mind is calm & swirling
 like the marble pages of an
 old book
 I'm a cold clean skeleton
 scarecrow on a hill
 in April
 Wind eases the arches
 of my boney Kingdom
 Wind whistles thru my mind
 & soul
 My life is an open book
 or a T.V. confession
HURRICANE & ECLIPSE
 I wish a storm would
 come & blow this shit
 away. Or a bomb to
 burn the Town & scour
 the sea. I wish clean
 death would come to me.
IF ONLY I
 If only I
 could feel
 The sound
 of the sparrows
 & feel child hood
 pulling me
 back again
 If only I could feel
 me pulling back
 again
 & feel embraced
 by reality
 again
 I would die
 Gladly die
IT HAS BEEN SAID...
 It has been said that
 on birth we are trying
 to find a proper womb
 for the growth of our
 Buddha nature, & that
 on dying we find a
 womb in the tomb of the
 earth. This is my
 father's greatest
 fear. It shouldn't be.
 Instead, he should
 be trying to find me
 a better tomb.
THE END OF THE DREAM
 The end of the dream
 will be when it
 matters
 all things lie
 Buddha will forgive me
 Buddha will
AUGMENT OF RE-BIRTH
 -- The cycle begins anew a luring lulling sick-sad maddening haunting
 ego-familiar strain calls the wayward wanderer home again a music mosaic
 made of all image tune preceding the whistle or warm woman's cry
 that calls the child home from play 
THANK YOU, O LORD
 Thank you, O Lord For the white blind light
 A city rises from the sea
 I had a splitting headache from which the future's made








