See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. - James 5:7

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

It's Poetry Tuesday Now...



Those darn flashbacks!


I'm so confused with this autobiography b*** s*** - I can't remember what day it is. Anyway - here is a beautiful piece of lyric poetry from a moment in time in my life...


Grace

.

When the truth is found to be lies

and all the joy within you dies

.

When the garden flowers baby are dead

and your mind, your mind is full of red

.

Your eyes, I say your eyes may look like his

yeah - but in your head baby I'm afraid you don't know where it is

.

Tears are running, ahhh, running down your breast

and your friends baby they treat you like a guest.

.

Don't you want somebody to love

don't you need somebody to love

wouldn't you love somebody to love

you better find somebody to love!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
While "researching" this literary gem, I happened across some very interesting sites dealing with the psychedelic-trance-rave-anarchist culture. I once viewed a documentary about dance-trance-rave, featuring Buddhist monks who felt the movement would be beneficial in unifying humanity in a new world order of peace and love. Does anyone know more about this than I do? Paul Priest maybe?
[Lyrics: Grace Slick, Jefferson Airplane]

5 comments:

  1. Jeron1:21 PM

    Certain hallucinogenic drugs make one feel connected and "one" with everyone / everything around one's self. There's an element of transcendentalism in it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I've been told listening to Oprah Winfrey has the same effect. At least it wasn't MacArthur Park.

    ReplyDelete
  3. So that's the original version of that picture!

    Here's the one that I saw (not mine):

    http://i25.tinypic.com/auhvmt.jpg

    ReplyDelete
  4. Vincenzo! That is absolutely hysterical - Teddy look great!

    RONFLMAO!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Terry..you're just another hopeless romantic!

    ReplyDelete


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