Rio De Janeiro, 2009
crisis time 6 am
deconstruction project of weird science
coming up
over this
empire of ashes and ruin
and rust
this physical body getting heavier,
denser, slower,
dying.
i crawl out of dreamspace to watch the sunrise
coming up
over abundent fields of
churning waste and obsolete matter.
light another cigarette.
the whole world is
sleeping with the fishes
now.
shit.
But the spaceship awaits, holy mother…
mother ship, rocket ship, holy god penis torpedo to the stars, baby,
ready
to take us on home
Alpha Centauri distant star home
waiting waiting forever
and a day, just like today…
Home
where these gross and corrupt torn salvation army space suit
bodies
serve no more in the dense vibrations of this
prison planet this
laughing barrel of drunken monkeys
that was never any home
to me and you
but a crazy old baffling way station movie reel
comedy stew of
tragic and comical
illusions and
bedtime stories for bad boys and girls
a guillitine trap for the most gullible fish of us…
where even the saints and gurus and
truth tellers here are
con men and liars and pimps…
but good ones
innocent and true
like you and me…
hungry for bacon and eggs
in the bleeding morning
of flying creatures
like you
and me…
what now? he sez
as it all falls apart in rotting stewing ruins of oblivian
or awakening…
whatever…
and now these earthly terror places
of unwelcome discovery
where even dreams are obsolete
are fading out of vision again
and only serve to awaken
painful holy garbage can lids trembling in winds of
atomic secrets and other revelations
tearing me loose from this obscene ‘me’
again forever…
even now, still lost in nights of solitude and fear and visions of
what comes next
in this unholy memory bank this
heavy burden of earthly space places where the
things that I used to do
lord, i just cant do ‘em here no more.
Did this screaming Dakini come really come here
sword in hand, flaming rod of truth burning
like holy death ray
to simply show me the way home
?
it’s a painful road, letting go
aint it baby
?
and why cant we figure it out the crucial formula and
element to
make our great escape
together
now
?
or can we
?
how did we end up lost again
and on different sides of
this crummy fence of waste matter
again
as baseball games rage and
i rub the beautiful earthly skin of others
but
only in dreams now as this reality decays
before my tired eyes
into raging nightmare ruins
beyond all
horrors previously concieved
by this faulty mind that
burdens me down here too
slowing me down
slowing me
down…
looking for art and perfection in the garbage
cuz i don’t know where else to look
and finding once again
this gross grinning death head comedy tragedy freak masks
of abandoned children with
rats in their ghetto mouths like cats.
of course
but…
where is the love that will bring us all home
?
where?
and why am i here again alone
and abandoned again and again and again
?
why this swirling Persian rug pattern of
nightmare vision that I can’t escape
with this rotting body
even after all these
years of running?
i call out to you in bleeding lung lunatic night
and i know it you are out
there somewhere
everywhere
within and without
a henchman of the truth that’s been
calling out to reach me here and
carry me home – such a long
and demanding journey…
i am lost and i am ashamed
down here on earth
and feeling so very dumb and
dense and stupid and
sentimental and maudlin
and self indulgent and
human
once again.
i am sorry my god my love where are you
now
?
i want the plane of bliss, baby
and i sure as fuck cant find it down here
where those rats crawl in gutters
like babies crying for their mothers too,
crying “too late, too late”
…it used to be “meow”…
or ”happy birthday”
or something
like that
didn’t it
?
before this awakening that feels like a burning
cross I been strapped to
for blast off..
countdown 10, 9, 8, 7,
6 am
alone here in the universe I can’t sleep
and can’t seem to budge
with this crazy avelanche of
death and illusion raining down
on the sleepy head
again with a thousand questons like
where did the mayans go?
and
can i go there too
?
or am i still gonna stay around down here
as a reporter,
a war correspondent to cover this
final beautiful battle
where all our blood runs
into the streets of another
abandoned planet war again
another
dead end boobie trap again
to show ‘em all
the lighter touch of the road home…
?
Cuz after all were all just junkies here
in this expanding pool of tears…
so cry me a river and take us on home
baby
far from here
where the buffalos
roam
so cold
and
ridiculous
today…
Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2009
“where even the saints and gurus and
truth tellers here are
con men and liars and pimps…”
…can’t get much more truthful than this!!!
“where even dreams are obsolete
are fading out of vision again
and only serve to awaken
painful holy garbage can lids trembling in winds of
atomic secrets.”
Whatta fuckin’ image this conjures up!!
lovin’ this poem, JS.
THANKS!
You’re a good man to ride the river with.
“i am lost and i am ashamed
down here on earth
and feeling so very dumb and
dense and stupid and
sentimental and maudlin
and self indulgent and
human
once again.
i am sorry my god my love where are you
now
?”
beautiful words….
it actually does feel like a burning cross doesnt it ??
how painful does it get ?
…How painful does it get?? Leonard Cohen said it best in “Tower of Song” : “I said ta Hank Williams how [painful] does it get? Hank Williams hasn’t answered yet…”
“The universe will not give anyone a burden beyond their own capacity to bear it.” -anonymous
Good!!! THATS KIND OF WHAT I LIKE TO READ!!!
i like this and i miss you
Miss u too princess! xxxxx!!