Blake's Spirit

Blake returned to the grave (home).
(What home, Blake?)

I am in the area of January, O's time.
There isn't white snow, there's a wind that speaks tongues.
And a fire in your heart that is saying: "Don't miss this, up-in-the-air, in and out."

What does that mean, Blake?

In-and-out-of-what?

I haven't witnessed it
And with whatever comes along, I don't want your shoes to lose that shine.
Your spirit should be fine with it.

But: there's a cat buried around here, can-you-catch-the-smell?
What if this cat (assuming there is one) is found through sacred summons?

I couldn't bear the thought.

The Wagon of Martha

Some say these are difficult times
"Where's my money, Martha?"
I kept saying.

I opened the door. What did I see?
That Martha had hidden all of her golden lettuces in a blueberry gown she wore, bare.

MARTHA'S WAGON is at its best. Oh sure she's stacking up evil grudges.
Martha stole all of our money, our lettuces.
She's the villain of the village.

"Hi, surprise." she spured.

She came to me with a suitcase,
set the suitcase to the sun. The son's right there beneath her waist, a martyr of spirit that feels the scent of the horse, lacks the sight of it.

I don't care about the money, but I see that your lettuces are growing ripe.

She will deliver volcano kisses (saliva of lava), and ice-cold baths.

Martha, are you heading east?
If you happen to see that man with the black hat, make sure to deliver him this:

"The rush does not slip your spirit, may it slip your horse.
Take good care of your family. Me and Veronica are waiting up here, except I wait with good intentions."

O World Overseas

If you catch a glimpse of this spark
it could be pretentious
from your behalf.
We thought firm ground laid ahead,
Yes this could be true someday.


O little world overseas
Through glitters of wonder
The son is raised, children whisper in wonder.

O little world overseas
The joy is beneath our chimney
Let's go to sleep, Santa is a quirky son.

O little world overseas
In this town the bell rang, the
little children threw the books
And pushed all the nuns away.

Glances are here, buttersky lava
Stars ahead
Let us catch snowflakes
with tongues dancing

O overseas I see the churchbells waving, saying:
"Child you're in pain,
but we wave
we hope you do well,
come soon, boys."

"This is where the son was born."
Magnificent!
She hugged the sky with her eyes.
"Today I can feel the wind in my skin." she smiled.

The road is slightly frosted,
Midnight snow, the moon's singing
and she's not out of tune tonight:

"Lovely children,
our sky was never jeopardized.
Your love is stronger today,
Christmas is here,
Further joy lays ahead,
go to sleep child
winter's here, right in this road.

Say hello to the churchbells,
they're waving and they would expect you to do the same, be kind."

I thought I saw your eyes being all watery and shiny,
I saw it but you didn't see me watching.

Misery

Misery you are here to stay but someone needs to fight the bull.
The joy lost the world again, where are we heading if our feet keep threading different paths?

Join the second wagon, because this kisses that I'm seeing are made of desert's dirt.
Never thought they'd be so cold.

"I have a naked eye, a bull tongue and seven hundred years of yearning",
she suggested.

"Come here I'll make sure our feet stay off the ground."

Play another tune.

River, river
Raviolli Romina!,
Rivera's Rice!

Venus sat there screaming from DELAWARE'S VIEW:

"O misery, you came and our chidren started leaking blood, what are you doing to us?!"
She will come to see, very soon.

O, misery
you're grabbing disappointment by the hand, keep it tight down there.

I wish you could see it for yourself,
you would leak your eyes out if you could feel this too, ginger fella.

Backstabbing California

Look at this,

where do I begin?

I fell,

I handed the weapons.

"Beauty is melting my eyes."

Something didn't match, that night,
the air, and faces.

Then we collided, our limits found each other. "Look!, beauty is on the other side-
of the street."

"Flames, you're nearing flames."

Oh, and the eyes met, four-hundred eagles cried.

Boys, he can work the straw.
We walked 2 more miles. We're close to Texas, I wanted to be away from
Backstabbing California.
Girls, she can work her way out of him.

"Where do I find the way out?"

The whirlwind found its way to Texas and we're no longer in charge.
A future journey was suddenly left unsaid.

Now we are four and some of us have claws.
Some have mouths for eyes
I could tell.

You grabbed the night by the hand, you achieved what you were looking for.
My fingers coiled, not to my surprise. The air was ripe. "Nasty,
you are the master of oddities."


Now a voice said: "This is black grass you're stepping into.
the party is supposed to be over, and yet why are you speaking when your tongues could dance nasty tunes?"

Disappointment knocked on my door, and today is sitting by my side.
I had a chocolate-coated journey I will never forget.
Veronica is dancing at her house with vanilla tears of joy, mouthing this words: "oh love why couldn't he foreshadow this? Love, it is cold down here."

Do you remember when this was supposed to be fun?

I hope one day you'll be able to trace white doves
from all this black-blooded vultures you call "Beings of Love"

Oh no, you haven't learned: Love is out of this river, so is trust.
Still you closed the windows, I cared.
Today the windows are open, you smiled:

"The things you do for love, California."

Blue Lineage

At least this crow ate cold food.
You should not have been out there, out of your way trying to find microwaves for this defeated Mona Lisa.

She's lost in plain wind, a bird that once knew our lineage well, knew the wood was fresh.
And knew the food was waving, miraculously warm.

"This is not fair", Helga grimaced.

"In this town their hands are tied, Mrs.
The train (life) is leaving.
Come join aboard, one could say your lineage can do better once you sit down."

Her best qualities are being enhanced. That is what you wanted
and you're far, you can't touch our gold.
Your arms are interwoven by our mind, our guilt.

I don't see grey, I'm seeing blue.
Thank god she ate the food cold.