At the bay
Of manuka and pohutukawa
There is above, the park
Of linden, maple, oak and gum.
In autumn colours
Today, stands a tree.
Several silver branches lean fallen
From the recent storm.
Into the sky are
Arrayed, expanding flights of
Green and yellow, warm pink and orange
Amid dying claws of brown.
But look down –
Among the fallen, the graves
Of dark leaves hanging on silver, the one
Bright heart red, trembling.
The loose metal road climbs
up from the bay.
A walk in the park was a
walk through the past today.
Memory, as a whole, is a
warm capacity for feeling.
But every episode remembered
leaves me yet, in their multitude,
A trusty stick sweeps away the
wreckage before me, the single
feeling returns, as a warmth
in the air I’m breathing.
Across my shoulders it goes.
The posture, if a pose, still
expresses and slows into depth
this feeling, with hands,
like bridge supports, holding both ends.
The rocking of my spine, the
sure grip of both arms, and
pressing on uphill, a sudden sense
shifts the scene, as it feels
like it’s a rifle I’m shouldering.
A soldier returning, a cup of tea
when I’m home, if not company then
some toast with tomato and pepper.
My mind drops into a grave
and sombre respect for the brave.
As I trudge up said hill, the past
no burden but the warmth of the
present, all homes, built on the warmth
of those who protected, yet were
subject to trouble, neglect, dejection.
There are a million ways
I delude myself.
There are a million ways
May I at least have
Made it amusing to
Open to be inspired.
Be bathed in purple.
An eggtimer wheels through the lights.
The God in his element in the sea of being.
The Christ stands with cool and warm.
(Blue and Red make Purple).
At the end of the arcade, the arbour of maidens,
Markers of the Aquarian age
Sits a Buddha.
And so we go inside Him, our kaleidoscopic being.
And find the key, warm or cool, on the Tree of Staghorn.
Here is the Diamond Point of clarity.
If up is out, and down is in,
And an eggtimer marks gravity’s spin,
What would come forth from our imagination?
A slippery fish supplants time, the purple sea churns as
Everything else ‘outside’ spins, and red and blue, cool and warm
Become purple, become mellow, and the Third Eye light comes on
Within an incarnation in the universal age.
Inside my mind is installed the Purple Dream.
The figures of man, stag, keys, and diamond are withdrawn,
The transmission flickers for an instant,
And the Black Hole is driven in.
Something very sweet was very good in the 70s,
Which the world has lost in its darkness and coolness.
Soul Train – what a name for a music-dance TV show!
Here’s to the one big single, ‘Sideshow’, of R&B soul vocal quintet
‘Blue Magic’ in the summer of 1974 – it rose to #1 on the R&B charts,
#8 on the Pop, overall the #19 song for the year as ranked by Billboard.
Blue Magic were also known for their synchronized choreography.
Visually oriented, they had several major television appearances.
So – question – If you think at all that the leading guy is too impossibly sweet!
Isn’t that answered by his ‘second voice’ that comes through in the end?
– – – – –
Song Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TscxLlhMiig
I want an app
That will slide some silence
Into the gap
Each song has an emotional echo
Before another emerges.
I am both.
I am empty
I am endless.
Blessed be the Hippie Grandfathers!
Do not forsake us as we have forsaken you.
Blessed be thy presence on YouTube.
Blessed be thy example of old man love.
To that video we beseech you to
Remain on earth as it is in the internet
And heaven, to be thy bounty as long
As we can hold you with our mouse and hearts.
Blessed be the Hippie Grandfathers.
Blessed are we that these two fine hippie gentle-men
Show us again how to talk to each other
With hands and strings and a solid song of justice.