Observer and observed are connected
time, light and gravity are what we are
begin with Euclidian postulates
dualistic perception of small scales
infinite causation is in effect
perceive mathematical reflections
ten multi-dimential perspectives
five higher senses are activated.
A strange kind of love and feeling swims through your eyes
like the doors of perception to a wide vast dominion
they open to your prize beyond the terror ground
a place for the rage where there are no broken hearts
white wash lies with just a taste for the truth
perfect taste of choice and meaningful looks in your eyes
blind to the gemstone alone we smile from a frown
should we stay or should we go while they circle round
we shout a rage so strong that knows no right or wrong
take a little piece of us into the dark middle ground.
That’s how it sometimes seems to to walk or to take
instead we stumble down to either side left or right
to love or to hate is to see the light while thrown in disgust
They speak of heroic feats that housed the fear forever
a howling wind changed the course and blew out of bounds
so sore are all the walls that bound us descending bleak and put upon
chew through your cheeks to wake up from you cerebral slumber
vases grow bigger to the eyes that snigger and despise
the wall grows taller up to doom thrown in disgust like shoes in a room
how we all fall to the worst and of course you say you don’t understand.
Your words write your fiction and your crooked hands scribe the lies
clearly now we tell your soul that all we say is all we can
we are nothing but hedonistic sin that learns to caste them in
while young girls with pretty fangs and slit crystal wrists
wait patiently for us to twist then look away like distant rains
water falls and honey dew days with us in black and blue rinsed eyes
gaze whistly at their slender thighs with a twist of shade to the right
spit at beelzebub on sight and go on loving for all to see living patiently
I find you in the morning after our dreams with cerbral signs
pour yourself into me like the sun is to the recently blind.
Lift me up high now and then get me out of your sphere within
keep me walking on air but never shout out with caution
hold your secret close because I hear everyone knows
the way it throws while it takes you in and spits you out
it spits you out with your desire to conquer and feel higher
follow and become ultra clean with mistakes that you mean
move the heart over and switch up the pace of your desire
look for what seems to be out of place and doesn’t quite seem
on and on it goes yeah like calling like a cold distant wind
as we walk through the zero hour we cut the thick and break the thin.
no sound to break and no moments clear when the doubts are crystal clear
crashing hard into the secret wind that knows the way it twists and turns
changing colour and spinning yarns the way it leaves you dry
it cuts you up and takes you high by the way it’s painted bright gold
is it honey or is it gold by the way it throws about and spits you out
that special kind of you would like the sun to shine through the blinds
lift me up and get us out and keep us walking but never shout
it’s okay because it goes this way while the line is thin and twists away
the Ocean is deep and the sea is vast alway asking how and why that’s me
your ocean heart is clothed in respect and sweet caresses unfurl my uneasy mind.
Imagine a set of steps easily climbed with the power of pride and plasticity of mind
where there lies a round table and the table stands for the power of our success
respect the sign with intelligence so cold your glass heart is surface deep
dip and swell in my sphere and you’ll find that deep caress open my uneasy mind
wave then dive in like the damp heart and the sun holds me so very cold
beyond the power fists the Ocean hearts are healing all of the uneasy minds
dive in with us and cling to the rock and always know that I’m quickly waiting
your heart is hard and you think your legs hurt because you smell of aching sweet success
a cerebral supernova would like anything to stop the pain from your fingers screaming
standing naked in the sun without a leather whose pain needs to wash, and let go the fear.
Take the steps to the other side with up-turned razors as the air is thick with karma
the sutra of a long way down listens to a boy that’s a long way down from heaven’s gate
heaven’s gate has no steps and the steps before you are to the tower of misplaced pride
the devil lied with drive up to the highest point where our lives and souls are saved
when the lives on the table stand for power, success and respect will dissolve steps
mothers love it so they say through sad eyed pearls and dropped lips
their old eyes skim with increasing lids and a tear falls as she describes
glances pierce through writer men as they spoke hushed and frailing hips
approaching death with a yearning heart with pride and no despise
hot tears flow as she recounts her favorite worded token about the Dharma.
Forgive me please for hurting you so and don’t again go away heartbroken no
wise owl tones with velvet lies crush her velvet lining and calls the fools
they write on your wall with a forked tongue about you and your secret life
dead hands will change the plot and will make your loving sound like snakes
you were never really that hot and hot tears flow as she revises and recounts
wondering aimlessly while walking down a long and winding grey paved street
breaths from your only friend warm the chattering others surrounding you
going out again and again just to be seen and laugh with a gas new crowd
tell yourself lies while buttoning up a new red shirt meant to allure
twenty years of doing this ritual just the same into the dark night glow.
Day after day with your preset mind you wake up with a preset find
with no self control you decide to wake and call the empty Roll Call
the socialites who are mortified yet see fear as their next surprise
you’re happy with nothing but the bitter sweet F.A. of the night
believing that they’re alive and real but if asked you’re not sure
they have nothing to yell except the words of a clashing rhyme
calmed down and out of sync so even real sounds like zero time
to a brain stuck in the lip sync Roll’ there is no wrong or right
forget your preset mind and Roll with us to a very welcomed fall
the night is endless with you in it with or without your mind.
As the day grows older the moon appears as if in a two way mirror
in a fire side mirror a distant walker hears the call to do good deeds
the moon and the sun feel okay like partners in a dualistic light
separating his reflecting with one beam of light and one dark
hearing this confusion wanes with no need to ask for more wealth
one thing more is all we need and now we go into the night
he feels the same as a cool hot summers climb through the weeds
the voice comes with no shame and bad deeds for which he must pay
walking the line as the day grows older, heavy-weighed and pierced
the moon reflects his heart and another image hits seven veils of the mind
The walker looks at his days and knows not how they came to pass
one day you will be the one to say I’m sick of all of this empty fun
if your faith is strong it means you are no longer being led astray
you can see that all the light comes straight from our shimmering sun
soon we will be with the one that will show when the lights turn green
I want to get near so I can be clear that soon I will merge with the one
there is no time for this requited love in which I thirst and yearn for
don’t be shy and don’t get caught with the world and its thoughts
I’m not asking for obtuse idol worship or lazy sleazy thoughts
walk with me now into the dark light and there we will repast.
The Sister of Sleep thought of him as a strange and good looking man
darkened eyes are hidden from view in empty puddles of shallow hue
views on death spread like two anecdotal tales reclining and declining
death is the surname of sleep but the surname is unknown to us
disclose in public these opinions of the tales that hold the key
sleep is end of daily life and a small practice exercise in death
not every brother and sister are equally close while holding onto nothing
giving into the enemy within with a small exercise in submission
a wide and vast dominion will open your eyes to your awaiting prize
this is a known terror ground and place for the misplaced rage.
Searching through the wasteland we see a blazing white light
soaring birds now hunt with hunger and gripped the thirsty brow
win the battle with me that is clearly and painfully wafer thin
between the devil’s teeth is a line which can never repeat
push me in and take me toward the signified as the subject is taught
a war within a war within a head and heart for us to newly begin
bemused we flinch with no easy work for the invited we loath and shirk
how will you feel when all you have and all that you own are gone
your only true friend dances above you in the mindful firmament
the blood of the prophets flow out of reach from their aching speech.
Transmogrification of ‘Deep’ by Peter Murphy
i know it’s my fault
i know this by now
i know you meant it all
i know you know how.
i know your heart has no heat
i know i can’t be sure of mine
i know you laughed at my demise
i know you hope there’s no lifeline.
i know that you enjoyed yourself
i know that it’s now my turn
i know you’re still watching
i know you’re fearful that you’ll burn.
i know it’s not your fault
i know it hardly never ever is
i know your blood is laced with salt
i know you never ask why not.
Four Leaf Clovers need to take over,
as the new paradigm,
Because when that happens and we all take over,
we can say anything with rhyme.
In a perfect world,
the one just out of grasp.
There is no murder,
or pursuit of fast cash.
We do what we wish,
only sometimes eat fish,
There’s always a dance floor,
and someone to dance with.
People aren’t people,
we are numbers instead.
Moving through silence,
always get ahead.
Get up every day,
and ride to the stage.
Take your small pay,
then back to the cage.
I found out,
the not so hard way.
However you do it,
take back your day.
The ride I’m on,
is a one-way trip.
Because rhythm is my god,
and dance is how I worship.
All night staying,
stabbing hands playing.
Everyone looks happy,
everyone feels crappy.
Imperfections don’t lie,
don’t even try.
Dancing while placeless,
seeking once caress.
Taking and tripping,
showing while petting.
Fire lights scream,
eyes lazer beam.
Calling head picture,
making us stricter.
We need compromise,
means being wise.
Frictionless moving reality,
relentlessly to be.
Taking over dimensions,
making our decisions.
Only you dare,
share with care.
You’ve been infected,
with what I don’t care.
Everyone envies you,
and your dark affair.
A singular voiced echo,
is what you’ve created.
United in loathing worship,
what your parents mated.
Your eyes understand,
withdrawn knotted grotesqued.
To dance with you once,
I will do what is requested.
Time is quantemed out,
you want to understand.
When we dance together,
there’s always reprimand.
Lay down beside me,
some company tonight.
With me all tied up,
you’ve only you to fight.
When you want to mate,
yourself a little more.
Read more of my poetry,
behind the Black Door.
Increase your essential compression and mix the steady quiet with elemental peaks that bevel,
obscure emotional power is filled with sonic detail that leaves listeners un-movingly strange,
self-protecting ears of compressed volume blasts is how we’re taking it up to the top level,
evolutionarily sophisticated minds pay attention to exciting music with proper noise range.
If you are truly seeking sensory excitement and avoid the typical pop-culture tiresome fatigue,
add variation to your rhythm and let’s do something warm and dynamic in a big empty space,
‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor‘ sounds better than it sounds without the intrigue,
one-dimensional noise sung by frozen monkeys bombards Stalkers turning into a Prey face.
The downward download spiral Methods are momentarily Drifting away a vitally hidden tether,
reverberating squashed reproductions of highs & lows that move transience with a reasonable crunch,
selected enhancement always backfires and leave us in need of a much stronger effect taken further,
un-satisfyingly brittle results leave us feeling indistinct and hollow seeking experience with no punch.
The digital landscape is changing everything and quality is sacrificed at the alter of convenience hunger,
inferior modes of sound operations lead pop-culture through a single isled store for a ‘must have’ choice,
time will bring us into the battle that has already begun to improve the way we look and listen younger,
significant shifts in listening methods reveal the truthful ramifications of hiding the subtle Missing Piece.
Blindly return to a high quality of art that embraces the wonderful technology of science,
equitable distribution for the art creators and theirs friends who want go with them,
an old fashioned Bloodline panders to no one and seeks hand crafted reliance,
quality costs and it’s well worth it for beautifully created art and some sin.
Unusually huge at any time can lead to a long life of creative non-conformity,
we struggle to be heard like millions of others who wear the label of ordinary,
success does not come with big digits and a dose of commercial popularity,
background helps but it’s what’s inside that keep them coming back weary.
Mainstream anything hasn’t improved nature in a way that’s recognized,
paper back magazines have little to minimal impact other than amusement,
the plug in drug is duller than ever and MTV has become marginalized,
society is gleening to be seen or heard on a television advertisement.
Become your own way to escape the turmoil of a subsidized production,
expensively formatted anything are there for those who desire quality,
fundamental elements are coughed up qualitatively in our reduction,
always take the bold approach and invest in yourself seriously.
The shifting doldrums of marketplace delusions is nothing new to me,
making forsaken art at Strange Hours is all we know as boss,
reinforced cynical views towards the injustice of our reality,
so many of us long lost in the marginal mêlée of dross.
Pragmatic belief in a major company remains to be seen,
the Faith Healer inside downloads a Liquid mutation,
our legs are chained with the survival of barely being,
exert positive pressure and avoid blind stagnation.
Selected while Drifting and recently for the very first time the old band played and he got to see,
the first listening experience of a special Shunt recording needs to be heard as it’s intend to be,
once you craft 1+2 and Hydrolically begin to understand the full pleasure of a quality toil,
you’ll discover springs at the core of all art and the art of Alan Wilder is called Recoil.
Transmogrified from a 2008 article by Alan Wilder; ‘Music For The Masses – I think not‘
Michelle has a mountain as a future win,
climb it along side her then be impressed.
You are star fire and ablaze from within,
how did you come to be so damned blessed?
Her profile is revealing she’s a Leo like me,
presumably and maybe so very good in bed.
She’ll make it snappy when it means being happy,
the road trip she’s been dreaming of is just ahead.
In your house I long to be a room stay,
empty and anxiously waiting like a stone.
Waiting in your bed sometime for a day,
it’s unusually nice for days sleeping alone.
As the waves break they bring the new mate,
when you dream walk leave behind malice.
We would love to feel the same way as fate,
trance dancing nude with a feather boa and Salas.
Four years away from the apple in the east,
water and yoga are your air and breath.
Writing a music journal about finding the love,
without losing the spirit and all of the death.
You may have met me in a quantum life,
this is my first and last dance in existance.
At least that’s why I’m leading the life I do,
overcoming the odds and all the resistance.
We need to make the loop in this life,
the ride is never quite as expected.
A philosophy student of oricalic Jung,
looking for others with the base erected.
I have little use for any kind sex god,
psychotherapy can mostly be pleasing.
Counseling happens every moment with me,
unpresumptuous in respect and subtle reasoning.
The fifth dimention will seem like the stone age,
after experiencing each of the quantem thirteen.
A Renaissance of everything is what we’re in now,
with etherial beats waving with circles in between.
Dancing with Ghosts tonight and forever,
there is always a weekly spinning retreat.
Rhythm is my god and dance is how I worship,
on the floor is the first place we’ll ever meet.
The undead are dancing,
as they become betrothed.
The dark wave is pounding,
as the Machine foretold.
Swaying in and devout,
to a strange kind of Hate.
Say I do with a shout,
be my dancing mate.
The chapel will be a hot-funk,
with Mz. Samantha and Xander,
spinning Goth mixed with Steampunk,
for your Pretty audio slander.
Dancing there alone in the shadows,
my eyes started to ring and sting.
When I saw that it was really you,
I wanted to cry and silently scream.
Then I barely realized with fright,
it was only a cracked mirror.
You were dancing in the background,
glaring at me and dancing nearer.
It was too dark to see,
what it was you held in your hand.
It was too late to stop,
by the time I realized what you had planned.
A black pedaled rose dripping with your blood,
the perfect gift I have been wishing for.
You get to have all that you want,
when you dance with death behind the Black Door.
There is something to tear
whenever we are near
a mirror is something to fear
The urge to be better than bad
swirled with the promise to be good
gives us all something we can share
when we are in the right and wrong mood
The lights flicker about
as we tease and taunt
I offer myself as a placebo
then you will get what you want
Forget the bed and say hello to the floor
when you shadow dance with others
behind the black door.
i am always your other,
without even a thought.
To dance with your shadow,
is to die and not rot.
My open eyes,
will always be broken.
Into your arms,
another has spoken.
It only makes sense,
to your broken mirror.
Nothing is enough,
to make me feel dearer.
The journey is long,
and full of disaster.
You need to serve well,
before becoming the master.