this love I bear thee
must bust
beyond mere words
and polished obeisances to
Mother moon
&
Papa xango.
this love,
lost so deep in
its non-sense void
it touches everything
but me,
beckons still...
So.
I touch beauty,
and
breath beauty,
and
fuck beauty.
for how else will you know what surrounds us all?
Category: TheBaron
ripples from the sea bitch
faint
joys
gladly forgotten,
pull back the pall
of shadow's final kiss.
sweetly
debilitating;
venomously
intoxicating.
with closed eye
and heart wide
come
recognition
and
lamentable liberation.
Strutter Step
juking & jiving
your damn way through, but
stickin'
to the script like
you were bred to do.
life plays you tight-
this ain't no zone D.
but there are so many ways
for us to get free.
no matter
how
you twist,
turn,
or fade away,
home waits for you,
right now,
right here.
so,
walk your way
and remember
to play YOUR game,
and we promise
to welcome
you home
once again.
Take Me Home Again
albion mist
clouds my heart.
I cannot hear the drums.
the might of my fathers washed
away in the myth of history.
I cannot feel the drums.
empty children, wandering
without soul, eternally seeking,
try to guide me through their hell.
they have never heard
the sound of the drums.
they cannot know
the sound of the drums.
the sound of the drums
that will take me home.
the sound of the drums
that can take us home.
The Stranger
home beckons
from distant
and
strange lands.
wild places lost
to memory,
or clouded in dream.
but nowhere
ever,
does he hear his name.
a perfect day
did
you
smell
today's promise in
the waning night
air:
crisply thin,
and growing?
did
you
see
the morning sky
wink
as storks skipped
'cross the ether
into a rising flame?
did
you
taste
the delicate pines
dripping mist and magic,
and memories?
did
you
hear
the robins, and tits and
crows all laugh
with the old chortling mamas
swimming in love?
surely you felt
that
tingling spark of
recognition
singe your soul, when the grizzled stranger
smiled
just for you.
rare indeed,
are days lacking
in such love
and wonder.
long after midnight
beckoning from beyond
the corners and
boundaries
of the night, she
waits
with the libertine grace
of a hurricane unbound.
beneath a soft rain,
dream and
expectation
susurrate between leaf
and shadow,
weaving fearful ecstasy.
I move to her, ready
once again,
to die, or
to soar,
just like how we loved
before.
sloughing sin
histories suffocate
under the
vibrancy of these lush
tropical nights, and
I scream
for release,
only to awaken here
naked,
next to you.
Knowing knows
and you don't
know
nothing.
but,
my love,
neither do I.
so,
we learn to creep,
penitent and
proud,
thrusting subtlety here,
and there.
we learn to cleave unto memory..
memories woven by old spiders
and old women,
woven to adorn the
stooped shoulders
of kings
fallen.
a drought of desire
calm inferno
races rampant
across skin and
soul;
triumphant once more.
seeking
no longer.
longing
for naught.
free.
may that tempest ne'er drown me
again in lust
and want, and
love.
there's work to do.
return
he used,
from time-to-rhyme,
to drift,
soft and
content among
dreams long quenched-
the future on auto-replay.
his throat,
whetted with love's
enthused whisperings,
bears the rasp
& scratch of
desperation
thirsting for truth's succor.
so, again
he dives
deep,
down
into cobwebbed mysteries laced
with doubt,
glittering
with golden promise.
he returns to the beginning,
so that the future may finally end.
a spark is found,
again.
theDeprevation 