Last Minstrel Show
© Surazeus
2018 04 03
I will write poems while I am still alive
because I cannot write when I am dead.
I cannot tell you how best to survive
since all my visions swirl inside my head.
The memories of my ancestors I dream
compose new script for me to play my role.
I build wood boat to sail the sparkling stream
and journey to discover the White Whole.
I write new scripture for my soul to know
good way to channel energy of love.
I wear the mask of God that helps me grow
to understand the power of light above.
I leave the waste land of despair behind
to build cities of towers from steel and glass.
I rule the world when my stars are aligned,
ascending Parnassus from word morass.
The clown who came to save the world from death
hangs crucified on the telephone pole.
We inspire spirit of love with each breath
to sparkle with atoms of the White Whole.
Before I calculate the reason why
the stars reveal the fruit tree of desire.
I ride the swift horse on the swirling sky
when I discover the secret of fire.
I walk many-footed Manhattan streets
and sing alone in Massachusetts room.
I dance sea to shining sea with the Beats
and with Isaiah prophesy your doom.
We are the prophets no one now can hear,
holy words fuzzed out by the pop radio.
When you are paralyzed by wrenching fear
come sing with me in the last minstrel show.
© Surazeus
2018 04 03
I will write poems while I am still alive
because I cannot write when I am dead.
I cannot tell you how best to survive
since all my visions swirl inside my head.
The memories of my ancestors I dream
compose new script for me to play my role.
I build wood boat to sail the sparkling stream
and journey to discover the White Whole.
I write new scripture for my soul to know
good way to channel energy of love.
I wear the mask of God that helps me grow
to understand the power of light above.
I leave the waste land of despair behind
to build cities of towers from steel and glass.
I rule the world when my stars are aligned,
ascending Parnassus from word morass.
The clown who came to save the world from death
hangs crucified on the telephone pole.
We inspire spirit of love with each breath
to sparkle with atoms of the White Whole.
Before I calculate the reason why
the stars reveal the fruit tree of desire.
I ride the swift horse on the swirling sky
when I discover the secret of fire.
I walk many-footed Manhattan streets
and sing alone in Massachusetts room.
I dance sea to shining sea with the Beats
and with Isaiah prophesy your doom.
We are the prophets no one now can hear,
holy words fuzzed out by the pop radio.
When you are paralyzed by wrenching fear
come sing with me in the last minstrel show.
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