CREEPIN’ IN SPACE NUMBER 26
by
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We went to school, we aliens took the sea animals and made an aquarium of people
To walk among them while they watch behind the glass abstractions, fishin’ sheeple
The records are all broken and the rest of the losers who can’t, win comin’ in second
Pounds of weight piled on from the tables of ladies and men, who fed my frenzy friend.
Pent up emotional rescues from the days and nights way back when, I was young and U2
I’ll stand-down and pour some more #JackDaniels into my thirsty mouth, not a drop for you
Nothing like a wing and a prayer to give you a ticket to ride the wings of blind faith of Void
Herman and Peter and the rest of the ancestors laugh in the state of non-being schizoid.
Three wishes from the bottle of a genie won’t get the smoke and mirrors I need to be me
You can’t see a ghost or a reflection of one, your Self remains ready for the things to be
Comin’ from the ground of being, snakes, four and two legged, winged and kinder Islam
Easy to get under the umbrella to deflect the shrapnel of Hades fallin’ on poor old Adam.
Perfect or imperfect, all in the way of the warrior’s saga, fighting to remain breathing in
And out, ad infinitum until the stars fall from the sky and that will never be, I’m just sayin’
On a ranch or in a high rise tenement in the city’s ghetto, Cabrini Green, Watts, got it good
Y’all got it good, read some history and go way back before your props for bein’ in a #Hood.
A fermented philosophy of existence and being requires a sense of aloofness, not yet obvious
Except to a chosen few who see the mask as an arrogance rather than a look of satiation’s lust
To never need anybody or anything and to be self sufficient with neither need, desire or trust
Middle pathway leads to the First Origin, drunk with reason, DNA embedded a divine curse.
I’m certain that I there is a place without a stitch of light, no forms, no angels, no worms at all
No sound to hear, no sights to see, nothing to say, taste, nothing to touch ‘cept a dunkin’ ball
Pizza party after the game, everybody wins and feels the pain, emptiness of losers #Winning
Once inside the doors of perception, immersion facilitates illusory delusion, Art of #Cunning.
{ written while listenin’ to #EricChurch links @ https://youtu.be/rOuF3k_-asA & https://youtu.be/MXIpNL0mEGg & #ChrisStapleton @ https://youtu.be/bIyjedRGMwE }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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