[Denizen Kane]
Simply put
You must believe me when I tell you that no one is coming to save you
All the bleeding and rising from sepulchers has been done
And even nail-printed hands demand your rising to meet them
Your father is not waiting at the door with the deed to his heart
In your memory your mother is hunched in midlife in a greying garden eternally tending to flowers you cannot name
But the truth is
She weeps
She hides those licks from you
You are a wound in her pockets
Her almost lost
Her almost won
At the intersection of adulthood and regret
The panicked traffic of your thoughts and best intentions collide and die before you speak
You are strewn
You are have
You are hung by the lengths of your fears
You are a son
You have made sons
Called out for an answer here in Spring convincing yourself that this was all rehearsal
Curtains are coming up, my man
And the Fates are watching with blood-burnt lips
We must think of something
We must think of something
We must think of something to tell them
Truly all things connect
Truly this moment you will not see again
Good or bad it is as fleeting as the light in the sky
Close your eyes to it and you will never see the sun
If it is sweet, you must treasure all things that die
If bitter, survive
You too will one day die
There is no such thing as ownership
Immortality exists, but beyond death's door
Meaning there is no art but the resurrection
To live, to die
To live, to die
To live...
Even if you tremble, stand unbowed in the eye of the moment
May your heart be as still as an ocean at sleep
Your eye as wildly clear as a great warrior's face in the pinpoint rifle of his executioner
He who asks receives
Seeks finds
Knocks find the door open and the Savior within
Let your Body be the asking
Your Presence be the seeking
Your Being the knocking
In between the B and E is the cry for your soul existing
Therein the parody of the mystery lies
That is to say, the beginning
And the endings never end, Amen
Meaning there is no end
Can you dig it, My son?
Simply put
You must believe me when I tell you that no one is coming to save you
All the bleeding and rising from sepulchers has been done
And even nail-printed hands demand your rising to meet them
Your father is not waiting at the door with the deed to his heart
In your memory your mother is hunched in midlife in a greying garden eternally tending to flowers you cannot name
But the truth is
She weeps
She hides those licks from you
You are a wound in her pockets
Her almost lost
Her almost won
At the intersection of adulthood and regret
The panicked traffic of your thoughts and best intentions collide and die before you speak
You are strewn
You are have
You are hung by the lengths of your fears
You are a son
You have made sons
Called out for an answer here in Spring convincing yourself that this was all rehearsal
Curtains are coming up, my man
And the Fates are watching with blood-burnt lips
We must think of something
We must think of something
We must think of something to tell them
Truly all things connect
Truly this moment you will not see again
Good or bad it is as fleeting as the light in the sky
Close your eyes to it and you will never see the sun
If it is sweet, you must treasure all things that die
If bitter, survive
You too will one day die
There is no such thing as ownership
Immortality exists, but beyond death's door
Meaning there is no art but the resurrection
To live, to die
To live, to die
To live...
Even if you tremble, stand unbowed in the eye of the moment
May your heart be as still as an ocean at sleep
Your eye as wildly clear as a great warrior's face in the pinpoint rifle of his executioner
He who asks receives
Seeks finds
Knocks find the door open and the Savior within
Let your Body be the asking
Your Presence be the seeking
Your Being the knocking
In between the B and E is the cry for your soul existing
Therein the parody of the mystery lies
That is to say, the beginning
And the endings never end, Amen
Meaning there is no end
Can you dig it, My son?
( Meaty Ogre )
www.ChordsAZ.com