Send
Me
Send me fire, send me rain
Send the elements to wash my brain
Send a flood to clean my mind
Send the love I could not find
Send me lightning, send me thunder
Send my soul to split asunder
Send me leaves of autumn brown
Send me a plot of hallowed ground
Send the dreams of deepest night
Send the dark to erase the light
Send a cold wind through my veins
Send me fire, send me rain
Send a virgin to my room
Send a dustbin and a broom
Send me courage, make me feel brave
Send me flowers to my grave
Send me joy and send me peace
Send me Jason's golden fleece
Send the horizon from a distant land
Send me the hunger of Bobby Sands
Send me a lyric, send me a rhyme
Send me justice for all of my crimes
Send bold words printed on a page
Send a sharp axe to fell my rage
Send a war to make it final
Send a tap and make it spinal
Send me death if I go insane
Send me fire, send me rain
Send sweet Satan to my bed
Send me God on a carpet of red
Send me Allah dressed as a clown
Send a bloodstained wedding gown
Send me a Buddha once again
Send me the bones of Hollow Men
Send me the prophets, send me the saints
Send Van Gogh with all his paints
Send a Bishop to forgive my sins
Send a wastebasket to collect them in
Send a priest to calm me down
Send Kevorkian to help me drown
Send me an angel to ease my pain
Send me fire, send me rain
Send me a river, send me the sea
Send me your skewered philosophy
Send me your knowledge before you depart
Send a surgeon to patch up my heart
Send me a promise, send me a curse
Send me your love in a long black hearse
Send me your praises, send your smile
Send me your soul in a small plastic vial
Send me a reason, tell me a lie
Send me the teardrop that fell from your eye
Send me honest, send me true
Send me a kiss, make it from you
Send me your passion on the tip of a flame
Send me fire, send me rain
The
Jesus Complex
The world is mine . . . . the world is yours,
let us love it . . . . let us destroy it.
Together, you and I . . . . by myself.
Who am I?
Savior or Anti-Christ.
To love mankind and to hate it in the very same breath.
To witness the beauty and the horror in the same view.
To be at one with my fellow man,
yet despising what they have become.
To accept people for what they truly are, as individuals,
but wanting to break their molds and reshape their minds.
To be mingling happily within the crowd,
and yet remaining totally alone.
To be following a straight course on the road ahead,
but going in the opposite direction.
To try and achieve a higher plane of consciousness,
yet realizing that I am inferior to mine own self.
To experience new things,
to reach for the beyond,
to challenge oneself,
but secretly wanting complacency and security.
To be bored with excitement and excited by boredom.
To be interested in everything with the desire to do nothing.
Waiting for a glorious death, but not wanting to die.
To be the smoke from a cigarette,
flowing into the air and dissolving into the universe.
I
Am the Wind
I soar like an eagle on a sun drenched day
the blue sky filling my eyes with forever
I am the wind
heading for the nearest star
that I have willed down to earth
riding the backs of butterflies
and sailing with the swans
puffed chest, nostrils flared
flying away on freedom's wings
I am the wind.
The air and atoms part before me like a command from the staff of Moses.
My breath speaks thunder
and my ears feel the roar of the world falling behind.
I am the wind
and the wind is alone.
I blow through the city like a breeze on the horizon,
alone on my journey
alone in my thoughts
The whirl of the wheels gliding over the ashphalt
drones on like the gentle song of Tebitan monks
and enhances the meditation that I wear like an old comfortable sweater.
A biped on a bicycle
salvation on twisted spokes and bent rims
patched rubber and linked chain
ducking low branches
and swerving around the overgrown bush
empowered by my strength of will
and the sweat on my brow.
I am the wind
and I am free
Buddha's
Library
How many books
How many chapters
How many sentences
How many essays, speeches and poems
How many dissertations
How many investigations
How many deliberations
Count them
Count the pages
Count the thoughts
Count all the hypotheses
speculations and conjectures
Count the equations, the quotations
the explanations and the rhymes
Count the theories
Count the prayers
Count each and every word
Did you find one single clear definitive answer to the simple question why?
No?
No?
Then die.
Waitress
of Eden
"What can I get for you?" she asked.
I looked up at her,
and I wished that I had the guts to tell her the truth.
You could get me enthralled,
instead I ordered a scotch.
You could get me arrested,
but I asked for an ashtray.
You could get me into heaven,
but I only stayed for dinner.
She could have served my head on a silver platter.
She could have taken my heart away with the dirty dishes,
and I would have given her my soul as a tip,
but I said nothing,
and then left,
and lived to regret it for the rest of my life.
|
All
the world is a stage and Norman wishes to remain in the tattered
old balcony seats. He believes in the anonymity of the artist and
wishes for people to concentrate fully on the words and not on
himself.