blue jesus
Posted: May 17th, 2010, 6:44 am
what we been told
combined with what never was told
and we have been told so much
and there's so much we are never told
history is one big ugly smear job
if there was one moment that was pure
out here in the west if would be some gun-
slingers resolve to draw and fire at will
I remember reading Nietzsche years past now
how each word held together with his thought
each sentence begot another that sent my mind
into an inward direction like a bullet of meaning
fired at the target of the will to power
"and nothing else besides"
if there is any meaning that has not been crucified
If there is some dancing star of the imagination
that has not been killed, buried, and resurrected
then we can never begin to grasp the meaning of
some blue-eyed teacher who stood aloof to meaning
changers in the temple of ultimate everlasting truth
what I know, is, sure as the shifting sands of ages
as sure as philosopher kings and wandering futures
as sure as poets who once looked deep into liquid stone
and passed through winding fingers of mysteries canyons
to commit to memory the written living language of
golden shadows dancing through centuries of shining lamps
what I know, dreams there on the edge of some infinity, blue
and a dream materializes out there in the middle of the desert
combined with what never was told
and we have been told so much
and there's so much we are never told
history is one big ugly smear job
if there was one moment that was pure
out here in the west if would be some gun-
slingers resolve to draw and fire at will
I remember reading Nietzsche years past now
how each word held together with his thought
each sentence begot another that sent my mind
into an inward direction like a bullet of meaning
fired at the target of the will to power
"and nothing else besides"
if there is any meaning that has not been crucified
If there is some dancing star of the imagination
that has not been killed, buried, and resurrected
then we can never begin to grasp the meaning of
some blue-eyed teacher who stood aloof to meaning
changers in the temple of ultimate everlasting truth
what I know, is, sure as the shifting sands of ages
as sure as philosopher kings and wandering futures
as sure as poets who once looked deep into liquid stone
and passed through winding fingers of mysteries canyons
to commit to memory the written living language of
golden shadows dancing through centuries of shining lamps
what I know, dreams there on the edge of some infinity, blue
and a dream materializes out there in the middle of the desert
