the long voice one
Posted: November 5th, 2011, 3:25 am
the leaves are falling faster now
I don't want to paint them gold
I never seemed a church one
the apple is painted with a word far
they came from inner space near
the old poets wrote about nothing
and everything happened
they bled wine along the shined
I don't remember who I was broke
I was walking down a rainy street
and the old poet waved at me
a dishevel one of many many
but not neither anyone one
I think he was me writing this
he was me or you or another
they come from places unknown
and come from further out worlds
the words were pulled from some
place that I had not seem before
when I awoke with the drunken sun
dreaming on my face under the moon
the leaves are painting themselves darker
they are putting stars on the true colors
faster now they fall like discarded cards
by some unseen hand flicking the sleeve
clocks falling out with mirrors revolving
making the dark voids fall like diamonds
the stations a changing the dials are
turning around the end of the numbers
they are standing under the gaudy signs
the time has come and the time has gone
we are all waiting in the pyramid for some
great thing to happen for some happening
waiting for the old words to show themselves
for the ones that speak of floods of knowing
of radios inside the flowing moving the lumin
there is no church inside the stone of the wise
there is only the voices of glittering fire zeros
they are them who was said of inside the tree
there are only leaves of many voices inside me
there are only turning meanings inside out me
as they find the long voice coming through me
things must be said about all those things they
never told you about but put it all in secret
the old gatherers of the forbidden truth of it
but who were the truth tellers and who were
the ones who only told about what they said
truth was who were the ones who gazed far
and who gazed near under the gazed on one
such things that were seem and unseen then
before the words had painted the leaves of green
before the ones who came before came before them
we must be seeing something turn the vision around
it must be turning around the way they turned them
around after the landing had landed on the one leaf
the one drop of quivering light on the floor of floors
the last spot of true shifting of the age down the word
the word that hung out when those others arrived far
that no longer sound like those others once upon one
once upon sung them with old signs and older symbol
but out of the void of leaves came the song long ago
you must now see that the words of that would be music
but the word music had not been made yet as of then
as you read them you begin fast last past faster fall send
when love was forever and written it was never never end
I don't want to paint them gold
I never seemed a church one
the apple is painted with a word far
they came from inner space near
the old poets wrote about nothing
and everything happened
they bled wine along the shined
I don't remember who I was broke
I was walking down a rainy street
and the old poet waved at me
a dishevel one of many many
but not neither anyone one
I think he was me writing this
he was me or you or another
they come from places unknown
and come from further out worlds
the words were pulled from some
place that I had not seem before
when I awoke with the drunken sun
dreaming on my face under the moon
the leaves are painting themselves darker
they are putting stars on the true colors
faster now they fall like discarded cards
by some unseen hand flicking the sleeve
clocks falling out with mirrors revolving
making the dark voids fall like diamonds
the stations a changing the dials are
turning around the end of the numbers
they are standing under the gaudy signs
the time has come and the time has gone
we are all waiting in the pyramid for some
great thing to happen for some happening
waiting for the old words to show themselves
for the ones that speak of floods of knowing
of radios inside the flowing moving the lumin
there is no church inside the stone of the wise
there is only the voices of glittering fire zeros
they are them who was said of inside the tree
there are only leaves of many voices inside me
there are only turning meanings inside out me
as they find the long voice coming through me
things must be said about all those things they
never told you about but put it all in secret
the old gatherers of the forbidden truth of it
but who were the truth tellers and who were
the ones who only told about what they said
truth was who were the ones who gazed far
and who gazed near under the gazed on one
such things that were seem and unseen then
before the words had painted the leaves of green
before the ones who came before came before them
we must be seeing something turn the vision around
it must be turning around the way they turned them
around after the landing had landed on the one leaf
the one drop of quivering light on the floor of floors
the last spot of true shifting of the age down the word
the word that hung out when those others arrived far
that no longer sound like those others once upon one
once upon sung them with old signs and older symbol
but out of the void of leaves came the song long ago
you must now see that the words of that would be music
but the word music had not been made yet as of then
as you read them you begin fast last past faster fall send
when love was forever and written it was never never end