MANTRA ULTRAVIOLET BLUES
If you would have seen what I saw, the first thing I saw when I came into this world, you’d die
Somebody put me on a freezing cold table after being in 100 degree liquid for days and days
There is magic in the veins of the dirty rocks that hold the silver and the gold, left over bang
From the Big One, it all went up in smoke, loudly and without any fanfare, nobody to hang!
Listened to the sensitive kinds of special people that I’ve run into now and then, all gave in
To the misunderstandings of my language, my responses to the logic and reason of Timing
I loved her from the first sight, every night until she gave me the final decree, my signing
Of the men and mice I’ve beaten in chess or caught in traps for vermin salads, in Sing Sing.
Eventually the whole shebang will come in collapsing on my head but not without protest
I will not go quietly into the night and ride off into the sunset, it’s not my thing to be a pest
But if that’s what it takes to get some important point across to someone who’s at the doors
Fine with me, just never want to waste my precious time, it’s all I’ve got, it’s mine not yours.
A last will and testament is fine for those who have possessions they think are valuable relics
For the friends and family left behind in the dust and dirt you used to cling to, bunch of dicks
Lost by being banned for the sake of the burned out minds inside of the editorial staff of dust
In one ear and out of the other, art and the arrows shot at the target fill my eye with red rust.
Once and for all, like the musketeers, one for all and all for one, that is the way it’s got to be
If not you or me then who will get this train on the track and keep it moving to the gas station
A place ending the story of beginning with an unknown, radical, twisted differential equation
Quantum mechanics and flawless formal logic get me right here and now, I’m your honeybee.
Sensitive kinds let you know and you’ll discover that is always the ticket to paradise, two toes
On the way to paradise, there’s a slippery slope from a like to a love, matters to here and now
You know and nobody else does, don’t say a word about it and it will remain homerun blows
Better be throwin’ strikes 95mph ‘cause there’s an ace pitcher in the bullpen with a holy cow.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Lundi ROCKTOBER 28th, 2019 A.D. @ 5:05 PM PST
{ drafted while jammin’ to some Eric Clapton & JJ Cale #TheProblem link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/RC9feonEx5A }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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