The wise man are changing their robes are now fashion They’re wearing bandanas They’re all friends of Madonnas some listen to JayZ while sipping cold Pepsi And they call us all prophets Joke’s on us driving Jesus and Madame Mary Miss Moppets Who made out with Adam symbolically speaking and than by non presence, with the alchemy burning and this Adam still nameless came crude whispers of stoning and than, as before, the solution, Joseph touched her in silence: find a name for the nameless and than all comes to balance! as a lot did before her just as Leda made Helen; while she hatched from her mother she knew we’ are all heroes But her song stayed a secret that she took to the after knowing not at that moment that there is no more after that all ego is thought of
all you see is invented in the way it’s presented paradox represented paradox life extended no more righteousness and lefteousness
Meanwhile Homer is smiling forget all about the nodding, now the cats are all but waving the wise men are all still laughing and there is no more Peter and your name could be Judas cause the oil stopped burning so the haters ain’t hating there is no need but just solutions - a long time ago. well, except in museums where they show among the ancients the mechanics of flow. Topless towers of Ilium, New York or Odessa, know the wise men are changing realize Peter Pan is gourmeing in Beijing but there is no more Peter, so he goes now by Wendy, And Suzanne is a Cohen Leonard dancing beside her and her face is plain peacefull while she holds on the mirror where all men are but sailors walking free upon the water no Narcissus will mirror. No more lonely wooden towers the perfection from beginnings needs not golden leaf to write on needs not temple to complete her it is written in our bodies, it is written in all minds. While you satisfy your sorrow symmetry still dances chaos, as you’re counting up from zero you are missing precious music thinking only drowning men can hear the song that’s framed with silence daft plunked between the beats. ocean turns herself into the sea. And all the way from Rocken a small town just near Leipzig an old forgotten secret. Empirically speaking it should have touched your feathers directing flight inside your perfect natured but water honey nurtured mind. It should have touched your meaning or so said ZaraCuscra by the bridge above the forest where the trench reflects the abyss. Where Salvation Army sailors have rented wings from Avis , and you’re killing all the bridges your poor children are rebuilding on a street in Barcelona where the family’s still sacred where another Adam whispered beauty to the habitat of nurture by upturning unused stones. as they were covering the mirror that shows you all directions and dimensions quite a few The wise men are dancing knowing Adam is monkey knowing hearing is music knowing nothing is sacred. except all without word. Inter-universal geometers never question their cumming realize there’s no mirror words need deepness to entice - knowing this imagine flags not by the thousands ships roam zero-one vastness Red Books dreaming perfect mantras Jung described not all it’s colors Jiro still makes perfect sushi Freud’s feud mazed the self blast naked and left people marked as zebras still debating grouped in tranches weather white lines are for snorting or the purpose is none. Oak exists hit by thunder Eagle opens corridas But red bulls fly roughly circles or so says the haiku by Dada De Mu The black swans are but naked Helen’s free, her secret’s out. The wise men are changing this is only the beginning knowing this and than forgetting realize your own first page.
