Ideas realized
Having sailed over
a green sea,
Far from home
and shore,
Upon a small isle
I set my keel,
A place I’d never
been before,
To replenish
diminished stores
From natures bloom,
Those rebels of doom,
Fragrant flowers
of spring.
So praises I sing
With lines of rhyme,
Of ambrosias
sweet in taste,
‘Fore the sickle of time
Those posies reposed
lays waste.
Silver moonlight through dense forest leaves, Atop columns of inky arching trees. O’ nocturnal creatures, With elegiac features Satiated, Liberated , Doing as you please. For None there to judge thee, Sinless as an autumnal breeze. Paying homage to gods of old, To their creed the angelic hold, And their secret invocations told. When temporal beauty and youth both fade, Whilst walking the path of the shades, That leads to the domain of grave Hades with child abandon ageless lovers shall be Watched over by plutonian Persephone ‘Til then dance in silver light, without fear of the long night. For ‘nearth Mnemosyne sacred breasts, The holy rites there rest, From oblivion spared devotional intellect And the vows we pray never to neglect.
Asking leave of resting souls, Over eternal eaves, I took a rainy day stroll. May they find passage in the BarDo.
“Blue” by The Seatbelts from “Cowboy Bebop Blue” album Lesus messiah ut, me decantus Lesus messiah ut, me decantus Lesus messiah ut, me decantus Lesus messiah ut, me decantus Never seen a bluer sky Yeah, I can feel it reaching out And moving closer There's something about blue Asked myself what it's all for You know, the funny thing about it I couldn't answer No, I couldn't answer Things have turned a deeper shade of blue And images that might be real Maybe illusion Keep flashing off and on Free Wanna be free Gonna be free And move among the stars You know, they really aren't so far Feels so free Gotta know free Please Don't wake me from the dream It's really everything it seemed I'm so free No black and white in the blue Everything is clearer now Life is just a dream, you know That's never-ending I'm ascending
These simple lines, When combined, Into complex thoughts, Simple phonemic symbols, Ancient poets wrought, With power to make one tremble. Epics lyrical, Conceptual miracles, Tales of dawn’s hero’s, Arjuna of old, Achilles so bold. Through time, We forgot, The lessons they taught, Reverence of nature, from whom’s bosom we nurtured. When childlike, In virgin-woods we hiked. We explored, And the first-children adored. Before we self-reveled, And great mountains leveled. For what? For naught. For paper gold, Our mother we sold. To the muses I pray, For the eloquence to say, Of the pains I see, That we make be, With the felling of so many a tree. In the glades, Under canopy shade, Is where I would have my relics laid. Forevermore, These earthy remains, In the bosom I adore.