We're all on a road to somewhere.
Riding the bounds
Sailing high in creation
Things that astound
on the wing
in the deep
under the ground
Yet consciousness
hard up against the glass
of this broken existence
A spirited defence
yet only token the resistance
at the cutting edge
of forsaken circumstance
Down to sleep
their souls to keep
Vulnerable
innocent and meek
Shaken … in shock
Grim trauma that seeps
out from the gutter
to reap
Below life’s glitter
where mothers weep
for innocence shattered
beyond all hope
Watch out now
Take care
Beware
Given enough rope
all things dark
and fearful
… into the deep
Where Beauty Resides
The bells of liberty
by your stockings rung
The deepest restraints
in my hands … undone
Like a flake of snow
your sacrament melting
upon my thirsting tongue
Quenched in the ocean
of love’s perfection
Down on bended knees
lost in the squeeze
of your wholly communion
To ride the high tide
of hard won freedom
Yet, I’m a captive slave
to your will being done
Advice for yet another
next “New Bob Dylan”,
If you wish to save
your immortal soul,
and your vocal chords,
from oblivion;
Like a Rising Stone
~ a voyage of homage
A time for Life
To seek
To be found
To feel
To be touched
To hear truth
How sweet the sound
To taste goodness
Goodness to be tasted
To love
To be loved
Without the Divine
life and time
truly wasted
Continue reading “Like a Rising Stone”
Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie
(edited) ~ by Bob Dylan
When yer head gets twisted
and yer mind grows numb
When you think you’re too old,
too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin’ behind
an’ losin’ yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl
of life’s busy race
No matter what yer doing
if you start givin’ up
If the wine don’t come
to the top of yer cup
If the wind’s got you sideways
with one hand holdin’ on
And the other starts slipping
and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire
needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood’s easy findin’
but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin’
and the street gets too long
And you start walkin’ backwards
though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up
as down goes the day
And tomorrow’s mornin’
seems so far away
‘Angelica saved by Ruggiero’
~ by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres
Upon a Dragon’s Breath
(and the Persistence of Grace)
This existence
an enigma
wrapped in a shroud
of destruction
Death and life
trouble and strife
Humanity battered
Reflections
from a mirror shattered
A toxic cloud
in mass production
The suffocation
the slow seduction
Life and death
riding the trail
of a dragon’s breath
