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Dont Listen/ listen

Don't listen when they tell you that you can't be somebody well known someday
Don't listen
to the stupid remarks people say
Don't listen
when people spread rumors.

Listen
when people give you advise
Listen
when they try to bring you spirit high
Listen
because they always try to help you.

Don't listen
to the people who try to get you high
Don't listen
to the people who lie
Don't listen
to the people who tell you that your ugly.

Listen
to the people who make you smile
Listen
to the people and get to know them for a while
Listen
to the people for you may learn something everyday.

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We Thank Them For The Memories

Boxing had Muhammad Ali his greatness beyond dispute
And cricket had Don Bradman and baseball had Babe Ruth
And rock and roll had Elvis referred to as the king
And hurling had it's hero in Cork's own Christy Ring.

Gaelic football had Mick O Connell in his code best of all
And soccer had Brazil's great Pele the black prince of football
And Hollywood had Norma Jean alias Marilyn Monroe
A legendary beauty of the silver screen some forty years ago

And athletics had Carl Lewis and Jesse Owens, Zatopek and Nurmi and Australia's best athlete
Herb Elliot the legendary miler who never tasted defeat
And tennis had Maureen Connolly the legendary Little Mo
Though she died young her fame still lives from all those years ago.

In the swimming pool Dawn Fraser at three Olympics won sprint gold
And of the greatness of the winter Olympian Jean Claude Killy we've been told
And in basketball Michael Jordan is man of the century
And in rugby union David Campese made his own history.

I have mentioned here some people who were revered and admired
They were role models for many and many by them were inspired
And add to them the name of Willie Shoemaker perhaps horse racing's greatest name
He rode thousands of winners on his great journey to fame.

As legends in their chosen field one could mention many more
But father time takes care of all as we've often heard before
And though we thank them for the memories they too had their day
And for the up and coming they too had to make way.

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The Veil Of Maya

SWEET, I have loved before. I know
This longing that invades my days;
This shape that haunts life's busy ways
I know since long and long ago.

This starry mystery of delight
That floats across my eager eyes,
This pain that makes earth Paradise,
These magic songs of day and night--

I know them for the things they are:
A passing pain, a longing fleet,
A shape that soon I shall not meet,
A fading dream of veil and star.

Yet, even as my lips proclaim
The wisdom that the years have lent,
Your absence is joy's banishment,
And life's one music is your name.

I love you to my heart's hid core:
Those other loves? how should one learn
From marshlights how the great fires burn?
Ah, no! I never loved before!

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In The Name Of The Children

While chilling one Saturday at home
My door was darkened
By a pair of campaign workers

As they explained their candidate’s position
Which I vehemently disagreed with
They hit me with the big one
In the Name of the children

In the name of the children
Has been evoked hundreds of times
By disingenuous people
Trying to infiltrate and pollute my mind

I think about
What all mankind is done to children
Over Hundreds of years with their stratagems
In the name of the children

They have closed down factories and offices
Escorted moms and dads from premises like criminals
Created wars and limited incursions, leaving children
Fatherless, motherless, homeless and with less
In the name of the children

They exploit their names without shame
Spend their money with impunity
Cut back on school learning programs
And blamed it on them for wanting to learn
All, In the name of the children

So I implore these bottom feeders
In the name of the father, Son and Holy Spirit
To really do something positive for the children
In the name of their own salvation

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You make me smile

You make me smile
When I close my eyes
And think of you, the way you hold me
When I'm feeling Blu, you and I together Seamed like in my mind time slow down at its pace,
Just for us today.

You make me smile from thee inside out,  and it cause me to sweat 
and  my heart to beat like never before when you kiss me so passionately. I think about the joy that I felt when we mat when the sky were grey outside and i said its a nasty day, but you saw Beauty in the rain and specially when it landed on your face, and I saw something in you that day. In my sprit, your love for me,  take me to a place that my body is relaxing. That your intellect stimulate me mentally In my dreams I'm sleeping  on cloud nine, so when I wake I have a mental break and pinch my self, I pinch myself like crazy! ! !

You make me smile,
Like you became the light that I needed in my world where it  was off only for a season, where I felt like it was suppose to be off but! ! ! You changed the way i was thinking! ! ! your love for me help me to see to find what I've  been missing and it's Genuine  I'm not made to feel like Im thee only one in it or stuck standing on a limb  time and time again   and it's not about one but 2       
This relationship is about us as a whole working on a mission to increase what we have, have have! ! ! ! ! ! !  
Your
Neat
And clean
 kind, and your hard working
 smart,  
compassionate about whats meaningful to you
The list goes
On, and on and on ON


Chorus

You make me smile, when I'm awake, smile when I sleep, smile in my heart, you smile so passionately 
Your words is like the wind blowing on my skinnnnnnn 


Your heart touches me like a warm blanket, thur the times that I'm going thur, I no when i see you it becomes the medicine that one need, to know that everything, everything is going to be ok. You make me smile when I think about some stuff that i cried about, pass relationship you know the kinda of stuff that make you sick to the core, and when its time to close the door.  There you stand and I open the  open door and I allow your love to flow in and enter my heart, soul and body that leaves me smiling! ! ! ! ! !
Your
Neat,
And clean,
Kind, hard working,
Smart, compassionate about what's  meaningful to you! ! ! ! and 
The list goes on and on and ON

Chorus 
You make me smile 
When I'm awake, smile when I sleep, smile in my heart, smile so passionately, your words is like the wind blowing on my skinnnnnnn 

I'm so thankful each and every day that things didn't work out on pass relationship  I stand to say  you make me smile

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Today I Know 'Them' and 'They

As a child I believed I had an understanding,
As to who 'them' and 'they' were.
To me it was then obvious,
Who would be suppressors of my attempted success.

And as an adult who has aged,
With an attempt to make a difference...
As I faced those obstacles 'them' and 'they' created,
To make those tasks on my path more difficult to pass.
I came to realize who 'them' and 'they' had been.
Standing in everyone's way to delay any progress made,
With every conceivable deceit and whim to dish as wished.
And today I know 'them' and 'they'...
As the neighborhood naysayers.
Doing their best to prevent anyone's progress.

Well...
Not anyone's.
They still have their picks.
And a pride that services their ignorance.

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Which, the first meeting with anybody is, you know, everybody is on their best behavior. It's only after you get to know them for a while that you figure out.

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When I Needed You

See it's a damn shame
You got caught up in the game
So much to offer
But so little to give
Now ya runnin' around
Tryin' to get down
With every trick in town
Tell me why you had me
Waitin by the phone all alone

[Hook:]
Oh I need a man
That wants all of me
'Cause I need to give someone
All of me
I don't wanna have
To ask where you were
When I needed you

Now I've tried and tried
To make you realize
That here's where you wanna be
But you didn't wanna listen to me
Yeah
Now I got somebody new
Who does all the things
That you didn't do
Could have been you
Baby

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When Someone Tells You That You Are Wrong

he stands there
with a pointing finger
telling you that your
skirt is too short
and your legs are
too long,

whatever, he thinks
that you are a mistake of
this universe
and that God perhaps
lost attention
when nature tried to
give you shape

be confident
shy away from people like them
turn inward
find that light inside the
secret place of your heart
and listen:

did it not tell you that you are the precious
child of the universe
that you are no less than the moon and the stars
and the trees
and that by all means you have
the right to be here?

desiderata, right?
recall, and then look straight at that
magnified critique
don't say anything
dismiss him as nothing
but a mistake of
the magician's illusion
he does not exist
it is only you
and nothing else
who really matters

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Don't Listen To The Pleas Of Your Teachers

Hello, dear teenagers!
Don't listen to the pleas
of your teachers.
When you are in glee,
they try to redeploy you
to delve into books
and divert you in stealth
from the calls of Comus
or the traps of Venus
till you get recruited
at the Campus of marriage.

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When They Deny 'You

WHEN THEY DENY ‘YOU

When they deny You
And indict You
And mock You
And prove You do not exist
I feel a certain despair
And pray to You with greater desperation.

Why dont You give us simple proof?
Why do You allow so many horrors in the world
Which speak against You?
Why must I need You so much?
And why I must have to look
To the Beauty of this world and the goodness of my life
To strengthen my faith in You?
Why must I live too in question and doubt
Needing and loving You nonetheless
Fearing You too to the depth of my childhood?
Oh God
Give me more proof each day
With all the thousands and thousands of kindnesses
You have given
I ask for still more.

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When I Speak, You Begin to Write

What are 'we' will to give...
And,
From us give up?
To keep 'our' relationship,
Alive and exclusively between 'us'...
To continue to make sense?

Are you willing to say to me,
On a daily basis something to please.
Something motivating that would elevate,
Without critique?

Could you sit through an opinion I make,
Without poisoning the atmosphere,
With venomous debate?

Could we agree to disagree,
And peacefully sleep together at night.
Or should I keep my eyes open prepared for a fight.

What are 'we' willing to do,
To strengthen what we have to make that better?
To make us glad and not sad,
Our lives lived together is forever.

'We could compliment more and listen.
And close our mouths with attempts to comprehend.
With an exchanging of points of view.
That's what we could and should always do.'

But...
I hardly hear from you!

'When I speak,
You begin to write.
That's why!
And I know you're not about to give that up.
Not for love.'

Baby...
That 'is' my love!
What else you got on that list?

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When They Call You, You Must Go

do not refuse a chance to be a hero,
so on this day,
or tonight, when they call your name
go,
do not tarry, be ready with the raincoat
and the flashlight
you just do not know what happens next
they will take you to the place
a house on the side of the forest
at the foot of the mountain
there is no fire there
no smoke
nothing is cooked for supper
there is a bleeding man
and he is groaning in pain
and they open the door and you enter
with your black leather bag
and they call you
doctor
there is no ideology here
nothing to talk about
and you begin to take away the bullet
that pierced his strong flesh in the arm
and on his belly
there is no anesthesia and so you put
a red cloth on his mouth
until he faints and then there is silence
no song for the dead even
you cannot sleep over this calling
until you find light
penetrating the holes of the roof
it is already morning
and they all left and you do not know
where they are going
a child with sharp eyes calls your name again
he lead you to the exit point
back to your
old house in the subdivision where you live
where your wife is waiting
your breakfast is ready, your coffee cold.

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Sh.. You may be Killer Of God!

when I was kid and innocent,
Often I was hanging on her
waist,
weeping to take me into her
arms,
when she was free, She gladly fulfilled my request
But when she was busy,
She used give toys,
When my imaginations fail to
please me,
I get bored of toys and threw them away,
Then she came and told,
See god is there in toys too,
You hurt Him when you throw!
She showed Some photos and
pictures, strange to me some were with
four hands
One with an eye on forehead!
Some are having beautiful face,
Some with some strange face,
I asked her who are these, Why they have strange faces
and too many hands and eyes?
Tell me the how I look?
Is My face is like you?
She told me several stories,
I then started playing with dolls as if they are Gods!
Strangely the toys started
winking and talking with me,
When in play I talked and
laughed with them! Mother was telling the stories of
rivers, mountains and men with
fountains of extraordinary
spirits, Mother was telling more and
more stories
Mother Wanted me to sleep,
so that she can go to work!
But I was not bored of these
stories, Ever I was eager to listen, even
when I was in sleep! So many time when I fell asleep,
She fed my food and milk,
Simply I eat and drank without
knowing!
Next morning I used to complain,
No one cares when I am hungry, Where I sleep and why they
forget me,
Later I came Mother never forgot,
Only I forgot and slept! When my mother died
Too young I was and never cried, Then in dreams, one day I saw
the death of my father,
and when that dream become
true,
I never wept as I wept in dream
itself! Then my brothers and sister and
friends
And I boldly accepted,
As soldier in war field,
Then my son, I laughed and said
strange these dolls who played with me,
Fell and shattered into pieces!
Then went that Lord,
elephant headed giant,
Then to the one with three eyes
Then to the one with lion head, All came and played and Became
one with me,
Still question came to mind is it
true,
Then Buddha, then Jesus then
then finally Ever smiling Krishna, All were dwelling in me with
mother Goddess,
Then came that day when I called
no one came,
Mad I was, went wandering..
Came and sat on a grave, I was weeping, weeping And
weeping,
Oh God!
Where are you?
There came a dog,
There was a cow and donkey
Suddenly came a man who
looked mad,
In dirty clothes clad
He sat beside me and looked into
my eyes, I too looked into his
Calm lakelike eyes, The stone, the tomb, the air and
everything,
All around started saying I am
here,
I am here,
The dog, the cow, the ant at my feet and that man and trees
around me started singing,
I am here, I am here,
When I saw where that man
gone,
He become every thing, from, dirty shit of donkey to
infinite world,
Then became small and entered
my heart,
See I was always with you and
always everywhere, None can express me completely
than that pure soul,
Clean with love and kindness,
Some day if you lose these
virtues,
You kill me and crucifix Me and
I can't resurrect in dirty heart,
And you will be Killer of God!

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Patrick White

When Someone Loves You And You're No One

for Kristine Marie

When someone loves you and you're no one,
what happens then? What do you have to give
that they aren't already in full possession of?
The many I have loved have become one woman.
And this is an orchid that blooms in fire at night.
And this is the dove that returns from earth
with a wing like a broken arrow and asks to be healed.

When someone loves you and you're no one,
what happens then? This picture-music flowing
like a carillon of bliss and despair through
my body, heart, mind as if they were all
poured like dragon iron into the casting of the same bell
that yesterday raised like a sword to kill it back into life?
And this is a doorway you can stand in forever
as if you were greeting someone who never comes.
And this is that butterfly among wildflowers
that flutters about like a symbol of the mind
as if it didn't know whose loveletter it is yet.

When someone loves you and you're no one,
what happens then? Do you give them your emptiness?
Do you wrap space around them when they're cold
like a star-studded shawl you asked the night to weave
for someone very special into astrology?
Or do you minutely examine the mystic specifics
of your life as you've known it up to now
and from somewhere in some dark room
way back of the heart, feel the urge to apologize
to the stars for how much their light's been through
for so little? The star labours, and candles are brought forth.
And this is the delirium of a window the moon drinks from.
And this is that jewel of a tear that didn't
make a big splash on the rock like other tears
and by that you know it's a diamond in disguise.

When someone loves you and you're no one,
what happens then? Does the air as now revel
like autumn in a gleeful chaos of images and insights
the wind unravels like leaves in a tantric realm of crazy wisdom?
Do you see a woman coming through a gate
as if she'd lived her whole life among roses and razor-blades?
And she's not asking for rapture, but you're beginning to feel
there's a peony of a supernova in the house of Cancer
waiting to express itself in the beauty of the way
it relinquishes itself like the moon to the waters of earth.
And this is that mysterious spell that beguiles
the expert hunter into baiting his trap with his own heart
hoping it's irresistible to the fox he wants to take it.
And this is that dawn of a new day that arises like
a strange exorcism of everything that's ever possessed you before
as you greet every ghost in passing off the lake
the same as you've always done, the waterbirds.

When someone loves you and you're no one,
what then? You stare as I do at Venus in the sunset
and write long poems that tunnel through mountains
like work trains full of precious ores that glow in the dark
more intensely as it approaches like a lantern from a long way off?
Or is it just another firefly at the end of my nose
casting galactic shadows across the time and space
it takes to behold them in the furthest reaches of my mind?

I sense a gentleness I haven't known before.
I see a beauty that's as easing to the eyes as moonrise.
And the seeds of words that haven't passed between us yet
are already beginning to open their eyelids and flower.
And there's a soft gray blue sky with a scattering of ashes
to honour the dead and give the wind its due
I can see spilling out of the urn of your heart
to make room for the phoenix I am about to give you
as if it were child's play, when I'm with you,
wholly absorbed like light into bread, to rise from the dead
and feel hunger again, to drink from the fountain mouths
of fire again, and desire and long as I once did
and imbibe the wines of life as if I'd never existed before
without cutting my tongue on the taste
or succumbing to the inconceivable as if everything
that followed thereafter were the afterlife of the inevitable.
And this is the era in which you know
you've already tied your blood like a scarlet ribbon
around a gift no one can determine the value of
if she opens it in wonder, haste and love.
And this is the moment you dread the joy of
when death tastes as sweet as birth in the mouth of life
and autumn lives out of the suitcase of all its memoirs
like the blossoms of a manuscript that has come to bear fruit.

I saw you and you were a gazelle at the easel,
painting the moon like a beauty mark on the forehead
of a sacred slave girl dancing naked in the light that released her
like a butterfly in the jaws of a dragon she could awake with a whisper.
I saw you in a gust of stars, and felt the wings and dust devils
sprouting out of my heels to let me ride the thermals of my heart again
as if the long, dark, strange, radiant journey I'd already come
were merely a hair of the way I had yet to go like the sole copy
of a love poem I had committed to the wind so hopelessly
such a long time ago when my solitude could play
the rosey-fingered sea like a musical instrument
that could make the waves sing like mermaids
without a plectrum or a pick or a ship, as long
as there was desire in your fingertips and urgency in your art.

When someone loves you and you're no one,
what then? Let them be everything to you even
if there's no you to be anything to. Pour your emptiness
into hers and fill the cup up to the edge of the moon
and let it spill over with light as if it had a leak in it
bigger than a record harvest in the horn of the moon at full.
I've cut star wheat in a virgin's hand
in a total eclipse of my senses
and touched flesh as if it were fresh bread
cooling on the windowsill of a hungry man
who can taste the light in it like letters from a child hood
far enough away from home to learn to love it again
with a second innocence more indelible than the first.

As for me and my treehouse with open windows,
I shall welcome a songbird on the cusp of Leo
to every branch and rafter of it, or if need be
at sea on the moon, in the event of a storm,
a lifeboat fashioned out of my own bones
to hang on to like the eye of peace in the skull of the dragon
who looks at you and reads you like fireflies on a starchart
delineating a new constellation out of homeless space and time
and a habitable myth of origin for two exiles in love
among the sacred groves of the rootless trees.

With you I have not come to revere the pain and longing
of hungry ghosts hanging on to every blade of grass
like a flag at half mast in a high wind.
I have come to appeal any destiny
that doesn't bear the seal and signage of your heart.
Nor will I ever surrender any sword to your waters
that wasn't first tempered in the translucent fire of diamonds
that feel like a fool of cool water running down your skin
like a spring thaw of the crystal chandeliers
that melted down their spear points into rain,
that dipped their swords in wax
and trimmed the wicks into fuses
and lit them up like Roman candles
such that my eyes and my heart
are still flowering wildly with you in these starfields.

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Patrick White

When You Look At A Star

When you look at a star
can you see
how the night leaves
the intimate doors
of intuitive eventuality ajar?
I'm all future with a prophetic past.
Aviomantic signs of liberated doves.
So many lifespans in a single moment.
How many light-years to the nearest star?
And how many shadows back?
Trying to say the inexpressible in words is like
to trying to thaw a snowstorm
on the tip of your tongue
flake by flake syllabically
or trying to explain bubbles to a glacier
in a momentary suspension of disbelief.
When you look at a star
do you see
that's it's you
that's shining up that far
and it's you down here
receiving your own light back like a ball
you made of your childhood
and threw up in the air
like a celestial sphere
when you had
all the time in the world
to come back and catch it later?
And as I grew older
not waiting for it to come back down
I learned to play vertical pool with the stars
to move things around
that were once considered fixed.
When you look at a star
if you want to clear the table
if you want to make the longshot
if you want to change the birthmark of misfortune
into an upturned elephant trunk of good luck
you have to chalk the cue with your skull.
But I ask you earnestly
if no one's ever failed their death
is it probable
anyone's ever failed their life
despite what their tears and fears have told them
about where they've ended up?
But a good beginning doesn't lead to a good end
because a good beginning never stops.
A good beginning is without conclusion.
It doesn't need to look beyond itself
because nothing's missing from the very start.
When you look at a star
do you see the ancient wisdom
in a child's heart
do you feel the depth
of all the eyes that have looked at it before
with longing wonder and sorrow
asking you to give them some direction
by adding yourself like another dimension to the past?
Is there a firefly of human suffering
mingled in the shining?
A window makes a better starmap
than a ten inch mirror
in a Schmidt-Cassegrain reflecting telescope
on an equatorial mount with clock drive
following them around like paparazzi
but when the stars want to know
where they're at
it's your eyes they parallax
at both ends
of the wingspan of your orbit.
It's your seeing that gives them a fix.
The same eye by which I see God
is the eye by which God sees me.
It's the same with everything
from fireflies to supernovas.
The donkey looks into the well.
The well looks back at the donkey.
Tat tvam asi.
You are that.
The lampshade and the blue parrot.
The donkey and the carrot.
When you look at a star
do you dress your destiny up
in hand-me-down constellations
like clothes you'll grow into one day
or do you wear them like patchs on myths
you're trying to give up
about how rough it's been
to be chosen beauty queen
and bear the diamond tiara of the Pleiades
like the Northern Crown?
When you look at a star
is it the chip of a broken mirror
the plinth of a shattered chandelier
the Holy Ghost of fireflies
a fire-womb of immaculate fusions
that bear the transgender features
of their ancestral elements
like Abrahamic hydrogen?
A burning bush
in the valley of Tuwa
that eventually talks itself out like a candle
when the conversation begins to harden
like an auditory hallucination
into a puddle
of earwax shadows and wicks?
Or do you discern something more
you can't quite put your finger on
or point to
not a presence
but there
an absence
but everywhere
and you standing there
like this tiny insight
with the precipitous extremeties
of a human being
trying to discover your own nature
in the inexplicability of all that shining
wondering if the rumours of awareness
the universe has been spreading about you
are true or not?
When you look at a star
have you ever thought
if mass is energy
maybe matter is mind
and thinking of one
as something that has to get over the other
is like expecting a wave to transcend water?
Light and lamp.
Body and mind.
Not one of two
but two in one
and even that's one too much.
The flower opens
in the light of the sun
like a kiss on the eyelid
and the sun blooms
as if it had a crush on the flower.
When you look at a star
can you feel how the light
touchs your eyes as gently as a butterfly
as if all the eyelashs you've lost in a lifetime
like the ribbing of broken kites
or the spokes of a bike
or the straws of overworked brooms
had come back to you
as a living thing
with antennae legs and wings?
Have you ever looked at a star
and wondered how far away it would be
if you were to measure the distance in thought-years?
And such a small thing the mind
a child's hand
and yet within its grasp
all that mass black matter energy light space time?
How could you fit
all those cosmic immensities
and the abyss that contains them
into such a small place
if they weren't your own ideas?
When you look at a star
do you ever get the feeling
you're swimming through your own gene-pool
your own meme pool
the Pierian spring
where it meets the sea
at the bottom of your mountain mindstream?
When you look at a star
do you ever turn the light around
and look into yourself
through its eyes
and realize
you've been communing with your own reflection
inconceivably
for billions of years
and that little insight
is the cosmic light of awareness
that fills the night with everything that is
when is is not the opposite of is not
and there's no separation in the first atom
between thought life light mind matter and form
and the lion lies down with the lamb
and the old woman says she is not old
and the sparrow lays her egg in the serpent's coil
and the old man who has seen everything says
my eyes are as young now
as you were back then
and your beauty is today?
When I was a boy
growing up in a garbage can
like a diamond in the rough
everyone wanted to cut
and buff the edges off
to polish me like a lens
so everybody could see how focused I was
when I looked up at the stars
from the bottom of a spent wishing well
where you could see them even during the day.
Though I was taught
they were responsible for my fate
and I should blame them for what I am
and not the black dwarfs of hate
who perverted the space around me
like slumlords
until even the buds of the flowers
were white as the knuckles of clenched fists
I never thought for a moment
that anything that clean and beautiful
that far away
from the scene of the crime at the time
could ever do anything here
that needed an alibi.
When I looked at the stars
I was enraptured by their mystery.
I was exalted by their unattainability
and the age of the silence
that surrounded their fires
knowing they've burned longer
than the light has lived
and seen more
than their eyes can forgive
of human life on the planet.
And the greatest agony of my childhood
from seven till ten
such that I would weep
my bitterness to sleep every night
like a child abandoned to a hospital
was that I was born way too early
to get to Aldebaran.
When I looked at a star
I didn't gape like a telescope
into the depths of its utter solitude
but looked upon it like a far intimacy
I could draw near
until I could feel it breathing like silver
all over the mirror
that was as clear
as any dark spear
that ever wounded a mystic with bliss.
Strange whisperings of exiled sages
pouring stories of home
into a young boy's ear
like my mother used to talk about
her childhood in Queensland
as if she were in the Garden of Eden.
When I looked at a star
and listened to its picture-music
I was so deeply moved
by the beauty and sadness of the song
like inspiration in utter solitude
I went into exile with it here
and it was my blossom
no wind could blow away
and it was my root
in the starmud
nothing could pull up
and throw away.
When I looked at a star
I was enthralled
by the dispassionate attachment
and creative dynamic
that burned me like a sacrificial heretic
in the ice of inspiration.
I could forget the small orbit
of house arrest
that a circumstantial planet
had affixed like an electronic anklet around my leg
for being born unforgivably poor.
When I looked at a star
it was as if the flightfeather
of a bluewhite fire bird
landed on the windowsill of my cell
to take pity on me
and share its freedom
with someone living in a cage.
When I looked at a star
it was the synteretic spark
I sent out like a dove from the ark
with two of every mind
in the zodiac aboard
after forty days of flood
to look for Atlantis
like the next best thing
to Mt. Ararat or Cathay.
It was the angel that always looked back
with the same mystic fury in its eyes
that were in mine
when I looked up.
When I looked at a star
I could prognosticate the future
like the distant memory
of someone returning to their origins
waking up from exile
to discover it wasn't a dream.
You can tell by the way a star
flashs like a panicked chameleon
on the event horizon of a blackhole
things are what they seem
when you're peering through atmospheres
with tears in your eyes.
I used to make telescopes when I was young.
I would grind their pyrex eyes
with ever finer grades of carborundum
until they could see just right.
I shaped their fibre-glass bodies
until they were as smooth as a woman's skin.
And I took them out into the open fields naked
far beyond the intrusions of the city lights
and exposed them to the stars
who revered them like clear-eyed mirrors
and adorned one with leaves
and the other with sidereal veils
and said like the elders
and old midwives of an Ojibway tribe
when they name the newborn.
This one shall be called Eve.
And this one Isis.
And to celebrate their birth
opened a third eye
and said
as it is on earth
it shall not be in the sky.

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Dont You Ever Learn?

Dont you ever listen?
Dont you ever learn?
The hand may find you
Its time to take a turn
You think this life is something strange
Youre ready for another change
But dont you ever learn?
Dont you ever listen?
Dont you ever learn?
The world is on fire
Your body doesnt burn
Kill yourself before receiving
Something out of all this breathing
Dont you ever learn?

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When They Don't Possess The Balls!

Many make false claims,
To sensationalize their own lives.
They use others as decoys,
To hide and mask their own insecurities.
With backstabbings.
Character assassinations.
Malicious gossip and innuendo.
And familiar deceit and lies!
People like you and me,
Are singled out and victimized.
Why?
Because that is easier for someone to do,
When they don't possess the balls!

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Those Who Make Claims They Know Us

We are not suppose to like each other.
That's what I heard.
Did you hear that too?
Well...
I am glad those who told us that,
Are not within our view.
And we had this opportunity to meet.

Let's do this again.
And hopefully...
Those who make claims they know us,
Wont ever get to know you and I...
Have met and became best friends.
With feelings there we both share,
Of becoming for each other lovers.

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When I Miss You, Sweetheart, I Try Not to Feel Dejected

When friends disappoint you,
Remember you have undoubtedly
Disappointed your friends;

When lovers betray you,
Know for certain, your heart
Has not always been faithful;

In this life, as humans,
We often suffer psychic wounds
That feel like walking death
And undeniable despair;

We have to assume,
We will venture again
Out into the sunlight
And discover our higher purpose
And greater happiness.

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Don't Listen

Anyone who puts you down
They're only jelous
You're beautiful
Don't let no one tell you different.

I wont let no one hurt you
I'm here for you..... Forever

Weak people try to be stronger
By putting strong people down
But the strong ones don't break
To the jokers and the clowns

So while there wasting away
Living in a gutter

You can always laugh at them
Cos you've got so much more Respect
Love
Life - that's for sure.

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