Wednesday, November 29, 2017


In a before life, I was Elizabeth then
In a city surrounded by romance
in suits and musicians singing; blue dresses
he had a message for me when we danced
in a dark menagerie full of actresses.

I was a widow to a window
how happy we were as a family full of trust
I wanted you to grow up having love and joy
that true love will wait for you; my little boy
I was dreaming of Romeo and fooled the Pope
who was sold for a mountain of dust.

Manifestations or real memories
am I only here in one life
when the President fakes his death
and the black flag is raised for the church of pain
Will we hold our last breath on a plane
to California when the world is insane
or can I have more than evidence
just a memory in this place of men
what makes us human again?

I know when I was nine I had a vision
that I was trapped in a porcelain doll
the family was different and we walked up
and down the stairs guided by lightning bolts
and the heroes in this fairy tale's walking

through the sea on the sand tars of futility
on a winter's moon above the peak of the wood
following the paths through the pine
surrounded by persecuted visonaries
up to the robin hood's charlaton
fighting for nothing divine.

Tragedy might and victory but passion
when did beauty go out of fashion
when will they see; a world covered in snow
Pen was his name; his eternal life was sold
in another life I made love to my enemy

a warrior of epiphanies

when no one understands
the truth is diagnosed disease and I keep going
through motions in a snow globe
Is it normal to remember other lives
are we all just stars on other sides
of blackness and dreaming infinitely
like kings in black pyramids?

I remember us laughing at the table
I wrote verses on napkins that you kissed
after I left this ocean shore

Stabbing me with that terrible lie
Sarah climbs a ladder to the sky
In that horrible light an angel goes grim
and I don't try anymore to defy him
Sophie the politics of poetry and beauty
are not meant for us humble dignitaries
beautiful Sophia; what has gotten ahold
of us lately?

Gregory who ripped all those words
from the book about trinity and light
rebirth from the apple tree seeds
They took the stars out of the sky
because God had a lover, she
heard the explosion and I knew
beauty of the emotional truth
and if you knew the real story....
She was my mother and was she holy?

lady with her mountain of books
and the sorrow of this
a dream about empires of stone
a dream written in the shell of an abalone
they show me the graph
we feel trapped and singing bells chiming
winter pine and Mary crying

I keep swinging on the rocking chair
a golden lamp; a blue plate
swingin and swingin in a confusing place
the politics of madness and love
the beauty of tragedy in a diffident state.
The hero who knows

"The knight has gone."
Valentine is weeping and we are alone
and the one who finds out when he
comes back Gregory watched the pages burn
the love that God could be
I Iand I alone

like a Pirate ship sinking and a light house
near the boat house and fights about
a tearful letter, like the queen, forget her
she was always following me in robes of blue
I see a giant hall, diamonds and rubies

Is it crazy that I can feel more than just
this pain pagan witch bitch insane
that the curses and demons and potions
can't bring emotion back into my brain

will I go back there ever again
I used my words like soul of the sun
who spilled out in golden cursive
from my Pen he wrote again
and my brother died in July
My life is a prophecy unveiling
Mayfly; what can I do now that I am here
without an alibi

But once I realize these memories
they fade like a terrible dream paraded in a sky
there's something missing from my
mind; just blank spaces and mystery
am I crazy to remember being me?

as another man or woman
as another man or woman
as another man or woman

You can't stop us
remember giving birth a son
at the bottom of a church, sun
that I was pagan and Joan
and the book I was writing
Stolen to be used for gain
for reforming Rome?

No one undestands
my dreams but me
and I will die one day in June.

Living a lie as the world ends
and I will keep seeing the future
remembering the infinite
steps as it turns into a circle
and we go back to fight for another
life after life after life we died for
and it all fades to black

I will take it all
with nothing then we go back
to May when it all began and a cage
full of lions for the son of man
an empire on a throne made of earth
lying to everyone about birth
the warrior and peace

I never read but the blue tall windows stood
and she was torn down
these ideas in my head
just came from somwhere; memories
I see whales a circle from three
sacrifice and a love letter
a marriage and a war a cross a tree
dancing in the rain and the green trees
singing with his brown eyes
we are all the same

so am I to blame
for the fleeting impulses from a dying cell
the beautiful irony of hell
Your whore to burn tables turn
from the truth you took from a bell

no matter which side you're on
I miss you more than you know
our romance was a suicide
one truth all could agree
a million happy joyful moments
surrounded in gold

dreams of the future
hope amidst a dark night
Life is more beautiful than it took
to be described in a book
full of your distortion
like a horrible abortion
for a game of control
for more stories to be told.

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