Wednesday, 28 September 2011
And they blew it all on telegrams,
They tore apart the suits,
gave up the green paper drug,
corrected their perspective,
and gave enlightenment a chance.
They thought they were reborn,
blessed the lightbulb in their head,
harnessed the power of peace,
embarked on their journey to nowhere.
I was them and they were me.
I do not know what they could see.
In the road of life they joined me,
but am not sure that we could all see,
or the bee...the life-pollinating bee!
They became preachers of harmony,
told me stories of the effigy;
the Buddha, the Allah,
the Gaia and Sidhartha.
I listened to them with my third eye open,
for my mind, their logic could not follow.
Their vision, for me too broad,
their love, out of scope.
I tried to listen to their beggings,
but my heart could not handle their wailings,
so I took my green paper drug and suits and left,
and opted for my materialistic cleft.
And in the way back I found,
the mare and the hound,
and all love that is bound,
for nothing is better,
than the beautifully realistic ground.