Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I sat on the surreal corner
of the Santa Cruz night
dreaming of crimes
I will never commit
sat and dreamed of crimes
will never commit
Rimbaud by my side
waiting for his stride
to enter my guide
to fill me with gnostic nostalgia
for the Ces't le vie of the lust of life
for that random sentiment
the occasional evil flower
of my will to poetic power
for the dark perfumed street
for dank bohemian haunts
and sarcastic roller coasters
piercing the night's wicked laughter
and underground taunts
days were filled with vast skies
on pages that turned like great sails
on pirate ships of old flaunts

I sat in the corner of the old hotel bar
musing on philosophical phantoms
encountered in La-Bas
my thoughts going against the grain
dreaming of perfect crimes
I will never commit
I think of going insane

a room filled with candle flames
I'm entering in a time warp
of dancing lights and the whirling
dervish of you in a thousand mutating shapes
until only one steps out of the mist of the door

like time came back from the past
that lasted into the future
that time that was never over
repeating in a circle of illuminations
I was spinning in the center of a vortex
windows stained glass tarot cards
furling and unfurling over my mind

I sat in a corner mirrored into infinity
if chaos reflection
filled by visions of revolution & revelation
dreaming of crimes that I will never commit
fill me with the gnostic nostalgia of eternity
as you walk back through the holy flame door

i like the struggle here
to understand and be at peace.....the eternal quest for meaning.........

tiz a struggle, peace.

Powerful poem.