SEEING LETCHWORTH AT FALL
Indian summer
A time so private
Even the leaves deign to fall
Stop in the whistle blow
Of a century past
As water flows
Chasms
Chasing
Chasms
THE OCEAN,
WHEN THE WATER RUSHES IN AS BEING OVERTAKEN BY A SEA OF MOTION
SAND LEFT AS PETALS OR LEAVES OF GRASS
A FINE SILK IN MULTICOLORS
PATTERNING, AS THE VEINING ON LEAVES
ALL SHADES OF TAN AND BROWN, SPECKLED WITH BLUE
THE ORGANIC POWER OF WATER
FOLDING AND ROLLING IN PERPETUAL MOTION
INTERNAL POWER, CLEANSING THE SKY
AN INTENSITY OF SUN
PURE LIGHT, DIRECT, HEAT AND TORPOR
MANY PEOPLE STRIPPED TO ESSENTIALS
ERECTING RITUAL OBJECTS IN SAND
HALF DEFINED SHAPES, HOLES
THE ROUND FORMS OF ASS OR LIMB OR BREAST
EMBRACING THE WATER, HEAT, THE LAND
FOR SIMPLE AND PURE MOTION
THE SKY ROLLING IN AS YELLOW, GRAY, PINK
WITH A CAT= S TONGUE BEHIND THE HAZE
AS IF TO BLEND THE TWO ELEMENTS IN WATER
MAN DIVING INTO THE SEA
BECOMING THE SEA
HOW WE ALL SEEK THAT PERFECT UNION
MUDD PIES
AND WHEN WE WISH UPON A STAR, AND PLAY AMONG THE TAR
PLAYING CHINESE FIREDRILL AT DAWN
WE SIT UPON THE LAWN
TO WATCH THE SNOW AND CANDLES STRONG
QUIET AND CONTENT, HERE IN THE MIRE OF THE CEMENT
WITH OUR NETS OUT FOR THE TALLEST TALES
WE WATCH THE MOONBEAMS KISS THE WHALES
WE NUZZLE AND WE TOUCH
AND WE WANT SO MUCH
JUST SUNLIGHT BY THE SEA
A DRINK IN HAND
YOU FOR ME
IT@ S THE SUBSTANCE IN THE FLUFF
IT@ S THE WAY WE TOUCH
AND IT@ S JUST JAZZ, IT@ S NOT BIZARRE
WRITTEN TRUE WITHIN THE STARS
AS THE PIANOS LILT AND SWAY, WE DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY
SAMBA BEAT, AND LATIN HEAT
WE RUB OUR NOSE
AND RUN LAUGHING TO THE SEA
DEDICATED TO THE LADY OF THE LAMP, COLUMBIA, A GENII by an other name
ABOUT THE EXPERIENCE OF BEING HUMAN, AND OF ART
THE TWO TWINED
FROM THAT PRIOR EXPERIENCE OF LIGHT WHERE WE EMERGED IN A BIG BANG
HEADFIRST
SQUALLING
WE HAVE SO MANY NEEDS
FOR COMFORT, OUT OF OUR HUMANITY
THE TRIBE
WARM BODIES TOUCHING HIDE
TO TOUCH THAT INNER SCRIBE
BOTH POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE
THE TWO HEADED GOD THAT CARRIED KNOWLEDGE IN A BRAND OF FIRE
PROMETHEUS
CARRIED TO THE SKY BY LIBERTY= S VIRTUE
THE LIGHTED LAMP AND STATUE GUARDING THE SHORE
COLUMBIA, THAT WEATHERS STORM AND PILGRIMMER
WHEN THAT MUSE WITHIN THE UNIVERSE GATHERS FORCE
THAT MIRRORED REFLECTION BY WHICH COLORS DREAM
THAT SHADOW OF GOD WE TAKE WITHIN
INSIDE
COMPETING WORLDS
PHOTOSYNTHESIS
CREATION FOOD AND LIGHT
THE BIRTH CONTAINING DEATH WITHIN THE MUTE POINT
AND ONE DAY SHE WAS BORN, AS THEY ALL WERE, KICKING AND SQUALLING
IT HAD BEEN A LONG CARRIAGE THROUGH WATER AND DRY BARREN LAND
THE CROSS MARKS LINKED, XX.
WOMAN, BORN OF MAN AND WOMAN, EJECTED FROM EDEN WHERE ALL WAS SOFT AND WARM AND THE WORLD FLOATED BY.
SHE WANTED TO STAY THERE
TUNNELED DARK HALF SENTIENT
ROCKING WITH THE WAVES BEFORE THAT RUDE YANK
SO THEY GAVE HER MOM DRUGS TO HURRY IT ALONG
CAN= T HAVE ANOTHER TRIP...CAN= T TRIP UP THIS ONE
STRIP HER FROM PARADISE
THE WATERS FROM HEAT TO ICE
CUT THE CORD
THE BIRTH THE AFTERBIRTH OR DIE
WHO I AM
Always this progression of unfolding selves
Original union and mating through love
Spark of some special sperm within Gaea= s egg
Long traveled corridors
Wet moist seas
Penetration
Form a living being
Initial explosion
Bang bang
Self, as the universe unwinds
Moving from child on
I think I dream I can
The Poet
User of words
Painter of doors
Quantum world of simple particles, colored and with charm
Seeking a house by the lake where light shines from the inside
Only children go
Sparked flowers of Rousseau
Reaching with luminescent hands
Beauty as no other
Skinnydip in deep pools naked Gilded in gold I SING
TO KNOWLEDGE
AS IF PERCEPTION WAS A DREAM
THE DELUSION OF WORDS IN THE HOLLOW SOUND
BETWEEN THE BEATING OF DRUMS AND CYMBALS
I AM THE NEOPHYTE SEEKING THE ENGRAVATURE OF TRUTH
WANTING KNOWLEDGE
BANGING MY HEAD INTO THE SOFT WALLS OF YOUTH
WITHIN THE BUBBLE THAT IS MY LIFE
SHINY RAINBOW IN ITS HUES
EPHEMERAL OVERLAY OF INCIDENT FRAGILITY
THE TRUE COLORS SHIFTING...GREEN TO ROSE TO BLUE
AS IF I CAN SEE WITH FAR AWAY EYES
TURNED INWARD
SOLIPSISTIC AS A MUMMY
WANTING THE UNWRAPPING AND THE UNRAVELING
WHERE THE COLORS PLAY
FINE JEWELS AT THE BEACH
MOMENTS SKIPPED ACROSS WATER
THE SUNLIGHT GLISTENS
DIAMONDS OR FOOLS GOLD
THE CONJUNCTION OF THE NET
WHERE AS TOOTHLESS MEN WE WALK, BENT AND STONED WITH AGE
WHERE PLUTO FOLLOWS VENUS
THERE IS A BEGINNING
THERE IS A PICTURE WINDOW IN THE OVERLAY OF NOTES
WHERE WE SOMETIMES TRAVEL
DREAMLIKE
AS THROUGH THE HOURIS VEIL
WHERE TIME SHIMMERS IN THE OSCILLATION
THESE REPEATING PATTERNS
SEEKING DEFINITION AND END
IT IS NOT THAT I AM NOT
I AM
These next three were done during the Reagan years...shortly after his jokes about nuclear war. A Red Balloons@ was on the radio. We were still at a semi-> Cold War= .
FOR A PLAYER, FRED AND SAM
A Burning Bathtub, Unending Flames as War.....Dark....Cold and a Sea of Rubble
A I must hurry, I am late@ she said, pulling at her legs, scars rotting and oozing cloth....opening the wounds to her touch.
A Ow, that is HOT!!!@ she said, touching the bathtub= s edge.
A When are they turning the on the lights and heat in this godforsaken hovel......What has happened in this place anyway?@ to no one in particular, poking around and moving slowly
through the rubble.
A I remember, going for long walks in green, and my garden, fresh corn, silky, with long tassels of ears. Now it is just my dolls, but they always smile. It is always dark out, and cold. All these dark clouds, and rain that smells bad and opens up my wounds, leaving me vomiting for days.@
She shivered, looking down at her legs, scratching, the blood and pus wet and green.
A Well, I=ve got to hurry...can= t disappoint my friends.@
Kicking stones and dry barren frozen ground covered with soot and the rubble of what was once a great city. The bathtub in flames, with no end of flames, like that great flame and mushroom cloud that hung for days, when she could remember.
Hobbling over to the corner to her friends. Leaning down painfully to pet each one. Caressing and stroking...calling by pet names.
Her family, Fred and Sam. The horny backs and twitching feelers.
They didn= t look like her,
Cockroaches never did.
Any friend in the cold. Always smiling. Always a good word.
She took them in her hand, cradling like babies as she rocked the world to sleep.
Night was every time, and all.
We dig the pit of our own coffins. We are the lunatic generation proceeding gaily to a mushroom war. Can we remember our humanity before?
Who are our leaders when we search ten good men?
To wipe away the salt tear
To wipe away the salt tear of war.
THE LUNATIC FRINGE
IN THE 80'S WHEN WE LIVE EACH DAY
GRABBING COFFEES ON THE WAY TO THE SUBWAY
RISE AT SEVEN, DON= T BE LATE
FOR A JOB YOU QUIETLY HATE
PAYING OFF OUR SOCIAL SECURITY IN THE SILENT MAJORITY
WHEN WE SIT OLD AND GRAY
SAVINGS WASHED AWAY BY INFLATIONARY PRIORITIES
NUCLEAR DISASTER SEEMS IMMANENT
SAVE FOR THOSE FEW WHO CANNOT THINK
THE FUSES RUN OUT IN THE MIDDLE EAST
MOLOTOV COCKTAIL IGNITING OIL AND RIG
WARS LED BY FANATICS
WHILE HALF THE WORLD STARVES OR IS ILLITERATE
WE DRINK CHAMPAGNE AND SNORT COCAINE AND PUT NEEDLES IN OUR VEINS
AND COPULATE TO FEEL THAT SPARK OF LIFE
FOR WE LIVE NOT, WE ONLY WALK
WE ARE ZOMBIES, WE CAN TALK
WE ARE THE LUNATIC FRINGE
WE ARE THE MADMEN ON ONE LAST BINGE
AND KAREN SILKWOOD AND KAREN QUINLAN
ALL THOSE MARTYRS TORN BY COAT HANGARS
AND HELL IN QUIET DESPERATION
WE BUY MORE BOMBS
MORE CHILDREN DIE
WHO ARE WE TO CRY?
WE POISON THE EARTH
WE POISON OURSELVES
WHOEVER SAID THAT THIS WAS NOT HELL
BUT IT IS ONLY EARTH
AND IT= S ONLY A DREAM
TO LIE FREE WITHIN A CLEAR COOL STREAM
FOR WE LIVE NOT
WE ONLY WALK
WE ARE ZOMBIES
WE CAN TALK
WE ARE THE LUNATIC FRINGE
WE ARE THE MADMEN ON ONE LAST BINGE
we see better with the TV on
random chunks of imagery
creating a person
the black and white
outlining the image
random computer dots, defining the human
as if emotion was mixed and deflected against our humanity
THE PIGEONS NEST ON THE BILLBOARD
ENRICHING ROBERT KENNEDY WITH THEIR NESTS
THE WHITE DOTS ON BLACK VELVET
THE POOR DIE IN SOUTHEAST ASIA
AS IF THE THIRD WORLD, DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF
PROJECTS IN RANDOM MULTIPLICATION
IMAGE FUSED INTO IMAGE
THE WHITE GUANO CLOUDING
CREATING A PERSON FROM THE DOTS
ON THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE WRITER-ARTIST
IN THE ENDANGERED WORLD
LIFE, IMITATING ART
ENGENDERING THE CRISIS AT THE CORE
ART, LIKE LIFE, RAISING CERTAIN QUESTIONS
OF ENTRANCES AND EXITS LIKE GODOT
OF THOSE CONNECTIONS BETWEEN CONCEPTION AND REALITY
THIS OSCILLATION OF PARTICLE AND WAVE
IN INTERACTIVE SYSTEMS SUCH AS OUR BRAINS
ART BEING TAKEN FROM OUR CULTURE, AND BY INCORPORATING IT
FREEING US TO SEE AND LIVE IN NEW WAYS
WHEN STASIS BECOMES REALITY
STASIS BEING JUST ANOTHER NAME FOR BUREAUCRACY, (DEATH?)
THE NATURE OF LIFE, OF LIVING CREATURES AND SYSTEMS
BEING CONSTANT CHANGE
IN THAT CONSTANT FLUX TO MAINTAIN CENTER
THE ON GOING AND HOMEOSTATIC SELF CORRECTING MECHANISM
GOING TO THE EXTREME TO MAINTAIN THE MIDDLE
OR, AS BUDDHA SAID, ALL THINGS IN MODERATION, INCLUDING MODERATION
IN WHAT WAYS DO WE AS MODERATE AND MORAL PEOPLE
PURSUE OUR IMMORALITY/
SCRAMBLING OVER EACH OTHER= S THROATS ONLY TO GAIN THE ANTHILL
WHAT IS A JUST CAUSE IN WAR, ESPECIALLY NUCLEAR WAR
WHEN YOU KILL TO MAINTAIN WHO YOU ARE, WHAT DO YOU BECOME?
AS THE BIBLE SAYS, A IF I AM NOT FOR MYSELF, WHO AM I?
AND IF I AM ONLY FOR MYSELF, WHAT AM I?
AND IN THEIR ADORNMENT, QUIVER
SHE STAND WITH HANDS HALF OPEN, A LADY BUDDING IN THE SPRING
FEET MIRED IN THE EARTH, YET SHE QUIVERS AT THE IMPATIENT WHISPER
WHEN THE BLOSSOMS, CHERRY PINK AND LOUD, ATTEND THE DAWN
THE FLAT CHEEK AND ROUND CURVE
MAGNOLIAS AND PALE SNOW OF APPLE BLOSSOMS AS THEY FALL
BLANKETING THE EARTH IN SCENT
WE MOVE HALF FORWARD AND BACK
IN NASCENT TIME WHEN BREASTS CURVE FROM ROUND PUBESCENT FORMS
SILVER AND CURVED LINING WHERE TREES TAKE ROOT AND FORM
WHERE A WOMAN QUIVERS IN ANTICIPATION
OUR DREAMS AS FLOWERS SHADE A MAGIC LAWN
TO SPILL THE BERRY RED OF SEEDS
JUICE THAT RUSHES FILLS NEW NEEDS
AS IF WE HAD FOREVERS, JUST TO SEED
IN THE SPRINGTIME WHEN THE SEEDLINGS GERMINATE
AND IN THEIR ADORNMENT, QUIVER
THE FUNNY THING ABOUT LIFE
THE FUNNY THING ABOUT LIFE
EVERYONE TRIES TO ORGANIZE YOU INTO THEIR WAY OF BEING
TO FREE OURSELVES
IT IS EACH A UNIQUE STEP
FROM OUR CENTERS, OUT OF OUR LONELINESS
SEEKING UNION IN THE UNENDING NIGHT
LIKE INERTIA , ONCE OVERCOME
WHAT WE PUT OUT FINDS ITS SOURCE, RETURNS, GOES ROUND
IT IS ALWAYS THOSE THINGS REALIZED, SOMETIMES FOUND
TO BE NOBODYS= FOOL
BE A SCHOLAR, PLAY AT SCHOOL
DESIRE IS A TEACHER
SOMETIMES, PLAYGROUNDS WITHOUT RULES
REALIZING YOUR POSITION IS THE FIRST STEP
MOVING FORWARD
FROM BABE TO YOUTH TO OLD
EACH AGE HAS ITS MOMENTS LIKE CUT JEWELS
ENERGY PROGRESSES, THE ALCHEMISTS STONE THAT CHANGES ALL TO GOLD
TO FIND LOVE WITHIN
TO MAKE ALL FULL
IT IS THE SIMPLE THINGS IN LIFE WE REDISCOVER BY BEING SIMPLE FOOLS
LIFE IS THE GROWING
BURN THE SUBSTANCE PURE
BLUE LIGHT WITHIN
THE HAPPINESS OF LIVING THINGS WHEN WE LAUGH FREE
WORK AND PLAY
JUST TO LIVE TODAY CREATE THE MOMENT
WE ARE BORN WITHIN THE RISING BREAK OF DAWN TO DAY
The non objective summer when the sun filters in as green
Viridian haze of copper bent and hammered
A galleon, sailing in the waves
Mint juleps on porches wrapped in vines and leaves
Rockin the summer away
You can have judgments on the day
Sun shines
Rain falls
Don= t mind if you listen or you stay
When the summer trails off in ribbons like children= s guns
They pop, the caps explode, they spray a lot
Summer flattens out the length of day
Fast cars race red lights to green
At Café Street, it is any time of day
Summers flowers pressed to perfume on winter days
When you open a window and release perfume
The story is the essence
Find a point to stand on
Perspective from which to view
You take direction in the summer
Any time at all
Bake on beaches
Fry until you swoon
The days lengthen out long about the end of June
Perspective is but another point from which you view life= s room
Filling time with motion
Life is such commotion
Opinionated action interrupts the flow
Life is such commotion
Opinionated action interrupts the f low
Life is all the come and go
You wish you knew the story and the ending
Yet you go.................................................
Traveling Café Street
Don= t you hope to meet some dream action
The perimeter is where you define a line
Action is where you touch a mind
Life is where sun filter early in the morning
Waves lap in as women= s feet and hands that grasps and CIRCE blinds
all the opinionated action right or wrong..... Never cause
You mine a sunken ship.....you walk.....because
Summer when we seek to simplify and like children play
Blowing whistles to stop the sun and tag or sign the moon in silver
The answers are only questions
Simple and complete action
Café Street is any street at all.
THE URGENCY TO FLIGHT
WE EACH HAVE OUR DREAMS,
WE AWAKEN NIGHT
MAGIC PORTAL TO THE STARS
WHERE THE WORLD IN GAZING, GRAZES
NUZZLES CLOSE TO GROUND
EATING MAGICAL CLUSTERS OF FRUIT, RIPENED BY A SUMMER NIGHT
FRESH KISS OF DAWN THAT CLEARS ONE= S MIND
FROM THE ROSE CURL AND SLEEPY TUMBLES
CURLED ARM WITHIN ARM
MIRROR IMAGES OF SKY AND GROUND
WITHIN THAT INTERNAL MIRROR OF REASON
I SEE YOU AND YOU SEE ME
WE SWING UPON A SWING TO CLIMB ABOVE THE TREES
IT IS ONLY BY OUR CARE WE CLIMB THE IRIDESCENT STAIRS
BETWEEN SHADOW AND THE NIGHT
WHERE THE BULL, UNMATING, STAMPS HOOF AND LAP-EARED HORN
INTO THE CLEARING
MISTED, SPRAYED WITH DEW
IN THE HALF GRAYS OF MORNING
WHEN WE FIGHT THE HALF ROPES OF REASON
SEEKING THAT UNION SOMETIMES IN THE STARS
FORETOLD BY BLIND POETS AT THE ORACLE, CONSULTED TO WARD OFF WARS
WITHIN THE FRESH BLOOD OF SHEEP
TEA LEAVES LAID TO SLEEP
THE FUTURE IS BUT ANOTHER ASPECT OF DREAM
IF WE COULD RECREATE OUR LIVES, THE PAST AND FUTURE
IN THE RANDOM NOISE OF HIP AND SHOULDER
I CLAMBER CLOSER TO THE MEANING OF TRUTH
PURSUE THE HERITAGE OF YOUTH
CREATE THE FUTURE OUT OF UNIVERSAL TRUTH
THE MUSIC OF CRYSTALS, OR OF STARS
WHERE THE MOON CHASES THE MORNING SUN
TAILED BY VENUS, OR IS IT MARS?
WARRING THE SAME WAY WE LOVE
GLADIATORS FOR THE ABOVE
LIFE IS CREATED OUT OF UNIVERSAL LOVE
THE HERITAGE OF EACH GENERATION
WE ARE ALL ONE, SEEKING A PORTAL IN THE STORM
A CANDLE IN THE FIRST, THE NATURAL HOME
BEFORE THE BLINDING OF THREE PIECE SUITS AND BUREAUCRACY
IN THE CLEARING, WAKE THE AIR WITH GOLDEN FLIGHT
EAT THE PEARLS OF NIGHT
THE RICH RIPE TIME WHEN WE PREPARE FOR FLIGHT
OUT OF OUR ROOTEDNESS IN THE EARTH
IT IS OUR DELIGHT TO SOMERSAULT, FREE FALL
GOSSAMER WINGS IN FLIGHT
WHERE WE TRAVEL CREATES THE URGENCY
PROCREATIVE
LIGHT
GOD IS BUT ANOTHER NAME FOR FLIGHT
I KNOW NOTHING
TRAVELING IN INTIMATE RELATION TO THE FLUX OF UNKNOWN STARS SPUN OUT ALONG THE ECHO
WHERE SILVER DOVES WING IN
PLAINTIVE ANGELS SING OF THE ETERNAL
LOVE IS ALWAYS SO INTENSE
JUST CREATE THE MOMENT, THEN
TOMORROW
WE have TOP DOG
Gumby is TOP DOG
He is furry and fluffy and everything a poodle shouldn't=t be
TOP DOG is rough and tough and macho.
But he can hear a snuggle at 50 paces.
CAFÉ STREET
THE NON-OBJECTIVE SUMMER WHEN THE SUN FILTERS IN AS GREEN
VIRIDIAN HAZE OF COPPER, BENT AND HAMMERED BY THE SEA
i HAVE ONLY DREAMS
OF SAILING ON THE WAVES
MINT JULEPS ON PORCHES WRAPPED IN VINES AND LEAVES
ROCKIN THE SUMMER AWAY
YOU CAN HAVE JUDGMENT ON THE DAY
SUN SHINES, RAIN FALLS
DON= T MIND IF YOU LISTEN OR YOU STAY
WHEN THE SUMMER TRAILS OFF IN RIBBONS
LIKE CHILDREN= S GUNS THEY POP
THE CAPS EXPLODE, THEY SPARK A LOT
SUMMER FLATTENS OUT THE LENGTH OF DAY
FAST CARS RACE RED LIGHTS TO GREEN
AT CAFÉ STREET, IT IS ANY TIME OF DAY
SUMMERS FLOWERS PRESS TO PERFUME ON WINTER DAYS
WHEN YOU OPEN A WINDOW ON A STORY AND RELEASE PERFUME
THE STORY IS THE ESSENCE
FIND A POINT TO STAND ON
PERSPECTIVE FROM WHICH TO VIEW
YOU TAKE DIRECTION IN THE SUMMER, ANY TIME AT ALL
BAKE ON BEACHES
FRY UNTIL YOU SWOON
THE DAYS LENGTHEN OUT LONG ABOUT THE END OF JUNE
PERSPECTIVE IS ANOTHER POINT FROM WHICH YOU VIEW LIFE= S ROOM
FILLING TIME WITH MOTION
LIFE IS SUCH COMMOTION
OPINIONATED ACTION INTERRUPTS THE FLOW
LIFE IS ALL THE COME AND GO
YOU WISH YOU KNEW THE STORY AND THE ENDING, AND YOU GO
TRAVELING CAFÉ STREET
DON= T YOU HOPE TO MEET SOME DREAM ACTION
THE PERIMETERS DEFINE THE LINE
ACTION IS WHERE YOU TOUCH A MIND
LIFE IS WHEN SUN FILTERS EARLY IN THE MORNING
WAVES LAP IN AS WOMEN= S FEET
HANDS THAT GRASP AND CIRCE BLINDS
ALL THE OPINIONATED ACTION IS JUST ACTION, NEVER CAUSE
YOU MINE A SUNKEN SHIP, YOU WALK, BECAUSE
SUMMER WHEN WE SEEK TO SIMPLIFY, AND LIKE CHILDREN , PLAY
BLOWING WHISTLES TO STOP THE SUN AND
TAG OR SIGN THE MOON IN SILVER AS IT RUSTS AND DANCERS PLAY
THE ANSWERS ARE ONLY QUESTIONS
TO SIT BACK AND WATCH LIFE, DAY TO DAY
SIMPLE AND COMPLETE ACTION
CAFÉ STREET IS ANYPLACE AT ALL
BLACK ORPHEUS
ORPHEUS DESCENDED INTO HADES FOR LOVE
BY THE MUSIC OF HIS LYRE
HE COULD CHARM THE WILD BEASTS, THE TREES AND THE ROCKS
HE WAS A HERO WHO ASCENDED TO GREAT HEIGHTS ( HUBRIS )
AND HIS FATED DOWNFALL INTO A DEPTH WHERE THE CONSOLATIONS
OF JUST BEING HUMAN...................................FAMILY, LOVE, AND COMMUNITY
ARE NO LONGER RELEVANT
IT IS THE SAME STORY OVER AND OVER
ADORATION.................DEVOTION...........................CRUCIFIXION
TO CHALLENGE THE ORDER OF THE GODS AND
THE REDUCTION TO NOTHINGNESS OF THE TRANSGRESSOR
BLACK ORPHEUS LIKE BLACK HUMOR
LEADING ON BY MAGIC AND MUSIC
YET CONDEMNED TO DESTRUCTION
HADES.............SISYPHUS
AS ALL MEN ARE CONDEMNED TO A ROTE JOB
BOREDOM BEING WORSE THAN DEATH
MOIRA, OUR FATE
WE INVOKE OUR FATE BY OUR BEHAVIOR AND BELIEF
IN A MYTHLESS SOCIETY WE DEVELOP GUILT
GUILT WHICH REQUIRES CONFRONTATION AND SUFFERING TO EXPIATE GUILT
ORPHEUS LOST EURYDICE BY DEFYING THE GODS
TO PURIFY HIMSELF HE WANDERED
TOUCHING NO FLESH
BOTH WOMAN FLESH OF MAN, OR MEAT
TO CONFRONT, FACE BOTH LOVE AND HATE
THE DEMONIC AND THE RATIONAL
THE PURE TONE AND THE DESCENT TO HELL
WHICH BY EMBRACING THE PAIN, PURIFIES TO PURE KNOWLEDGE
WHAT IS IT TO BE AWARE
STRUGGLE......PRIMORDIAL CONFLICT.........EROS AND THANATOS
WHAT DOSTOYEVSKY CALLED A THE CHASMS OF THE SOUL@
THE SUN, OUR SOURCE OF CONSCIOUSNESS
ART THE CREATIVE SYNTHESIS
BETWEEN LIGHT AND DARK
BIRTH, THE WOMB, RETURN FROM THE ABYSS
MUSIC THE CHARMER, THE MEDIATOR, AS ORPHEUS CHARMED THE WILD ASS
THE RETURN OF BLACKNESS INTO LIGHT
OR AS LAO TSE SAYS A HIGH REST ON LOW@
