step right up step right up see the woman with two heads
test your skill prove your self
free the monkey from the chains
feed him peanuts, now he loves you, now he'll never let you go
see how blue the sky is? see how bright the sun
walking on clouds and pulling rainbows out of your pocket
do they love you, do they love you? will they ever?
more more show them more, take the pins n needles
from my spine and put them back in the haystack
a needle's not so hard to find when you're looking
sugar in the bloodstream waking up now fast asleep
jetstreams in the sky break the sound barrier over head
Unidentified flying objects, identifiable to one and all
though we speak no words we play their game
we know we don't know we hide our own minds
gingerbread houses and cheese for the mouses
a mouth full of roses speaks of beauty
Angels in the outfield, ball is in your court now
are you afraid? be not afraid... Time is always on your side
... Time is always on your side
That makes me wonder. Do you really feel like time is on your side? Or is it wishful thinking, illusion we all would like to have to tears? Time is flowing away so quickly and utterly unstoppably. The older I get, the more clearly I see that there will never be enough time to marvel this world.
once when I was in love with some woman, when I knew it was not going to work out to well, I was walking away from a meeting and spontaneously began whistling that old song from the Rolling Stones - Time is on my side.
It was strange, as it came so spontaneously. I realised that it was true, also in a strange way. I had all the time in the universe to complete my destiny with this woman, as it was a matter of the heart, which bridges all boundaries. I could wait for eternity.
...as it was a matter of the heart, which bridges all boundaries. I could wait for eternity.
our words are notes in waiting
hidden in our chest
These are the Ways of All
Rumi said
"...the flute is played by fire, not by breath".
Yet for a little time
we can play this fire
- streaming our breath
through pursed lips
as we lean in close
- blowing kisses to the heart of a spark
As these gleaming skies enquire
each day we shade a tiny secret
from death and their jealous sight
holding one hand above a stream of air
feeling as large and dark as a mountain
and as wild and as untethered as light
when at a moment the breath acquires
the void into which gathered flame
and notes will die
- blown from a staff of smoke before our face
as tears issue from our eyes
into the fissure between beauty and pain
flickering notes
black stone
white foam
blue smoke
Slowing breathing out underwater
as a perfect ripple rolls overhead
making the sun
- the eye of a lizard
and the ocean bed our home
In this ancient reflection
older than the perfumed air above
stirred by insects and seasons
this pause
newer than that bubble
sliding over sand
...or love
There is in this whisper of the flute
an ancient sound
older than this two eared world
wiser than any will can understand
This explicit stone cradles an eternal tone
- the first phenomena of the complete
and perfect poem
a whole language is in this first word
...this the spark of a uni-verse
held within an opalescent shell
We who walk as flesh and bone
who talk to leave no tone unstirred
our words are notes in waiting
hidden in our chest
waiting to be reflected off leaves
or some watching creature's eye
as music pools like dark water
and our heart resonates with the rock
These are the ways of all
xxx
X
W.B. Yeats: The Second Coming (1920)
/...../And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlhem to be born?