Time spent, space bent.
The intellectual seeks circumstantial evidence.
Angels that are heaven sent.
Multitudes of faerie flies.
Twisted like the devil’s eyes, when he gyrates.
And torn asunder by God, when his temper flares.
But the gods of the trees sit in the wilderness, flowers blowing in the wind.
Contemplating heaven and earth, with a celestial grin.
Between pillars of fiery amber, that shift in our vision.
Making acquisitions of humor and intellect.
Zen masters speaking in silence, but everything is heard.
The artist painting his night dreams, and day dreams.
The pen-man portraying the drama of love and war, and he is neither scared or in love.
The joker clasps to the rim of the throne, with nowhere left to go.
To sit on it when the present fire embers, and play with his member.
And no-one is a king, and no-one is poor.
In fact, no-one is sure.
And what is more, everyone is a bore.
Before they are born again, and manifested into the multi-dimensional reality called life.
But everyone shines like a beautiful chrysoprase.
And smoke billows into heaven like angels wings.
Blissful and flowing into life is the way of the fish, who flow upstream without re-course.
And all things that are being, are being without doing.
And doing is the joy, and being is the peace.
And nothing is the hell, hell is nothing; to be avoided with ease.
Don’t speak of mercy and don't beg beneath the tree, just say that you love and that your love is free.
Heaven’s sexy Ceraphims, partially revealing their secret nakedness, hold the lease and key.
To the final, fantastical orgasmic beast release.