sound light & waves

The source of sound
and the source of light
are orchestrated around
in the shade of the night

vibrations from strings
dance in a hollow wooden box
while the magnetic pickup brings
the electric strings to talk

The lamp on the right side
glows geometric arcs of light
a metal filament in its hide
is the source that shines the night

these 'instruments' of waves
are held to the ground by a force
and the gravity of these thoughts
has its own cryptic source

I watch from a distance
at the picture in my gaze
and I marvel at the dance
of light, sound and waves

Catch up with the sun

Right now I can feel
a certain kind of thing
completely out of mystery
on some straaaaange territory

I take a step forwards,
stealing one last glance backwards
moving one step at a time
imagining what inclines behind???

Some steep sort of a slope
rests underneath my wings
my mind is near exploding
into cosmic daily things

Blasphemy is a word
and belief is just a concept
in the very end its all illusions
under stand this and you're safe!

Now let me go to sleep
the other side has to wake
I'll dream - as they live their dreams
waking the sunny side for my sake

Stranger Than a Day

How did I, a stranger come to be
such an important part of me?
And, how come I disappeared
before I could even see?

Why does the tide change
exactly when I watch?
why do these troubles fade
slower than my thoughts?

Mind does wax and wane
it does indeed ebb and flow
Sometimes it even feels insane
and sometimes...you just know.

Theres a world on the other side
and it will always be there
the truth is always hidden
in two places at one time

How can I see that truth
how can I be in time?
There is love somewhere out of sync
And this planet is an imagination of mine!

a relative way

It is time
to see the side
of the shining moon
crazily flying in the sky
all around it diamonds
and grass on sweet secrets
the dawn is but obscured
by a division in the wishes
of being numb to the education
breaking childhood into shards of cigars
The barking of the dogs echoed through the machine
as the whine of the thin ice struck at the controls of the sun
Therefore it is time now
tomorrow it may all have changed
There may no more be a difference between us and them
by the mudmen in the relic of ancient gold over burning bridges
It is ultimately comfortable to know that a dream has been lived
when I was a child I dreamt of watching you live, to hear your voice as I go to the show.

Its time!

Who are you?