The Ghost Song
it may have been in pieces...
but I gave you the best of me
Awake.
Shake dreams from your hair,
my pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
the day's divinity. First thing you see.
A vast radiant beach and cooled jeweled moon,
couples naked race down by its quiet side
and we laugh like soft, mad children
smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy.
The music and voices are all around us.
Choose they croon, the Ancient Ones, -
the time has come again, choose now they croon
beneath the moon beside an ancient lake.
Enter again the sweet forest,
Enter the hot dream,
Come with us!
Everything is broken up and dances.
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding,
Ghosts crowd the young child’s fragile eggshell mind.
We have assembled inside this ancient and insane theater
to propagate our lust for life -
and flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.
The barns have stormed, the windows kept -
and only one of all the rest to dance and save us
from the divine mockery of words, -
Music inflames temperament.
Ooh, Great Creator of granting us one more hour,
to perform our art and perfect our lives.
We need great golden copulations.
When the true kings' murderers are allowed to roam free,
a thousand magicians arise in the land, -
Where is the feast we are promised?
│ One more thing... │
Thank you, oh, Lord, for the white blind light.
Thank you, oh, Lord, for the white blind light.
A city rises from the sea.
I had a splitting headache, from which the future's made.
