03-29-2011, 12:22 PM
Rhythmic Gathering
circa 1996
From the soul and heart,
into the depth of mind,
reform beliefs around you cart.
Old, dead ideas just leave behind.
Convey in truth with strong conviction.
Convert them to the light.
Hold strong unto your firm intention.
Defeat them with your might
of mind and logic. Blow their cone
into tomorrow's yesterday,
with your skills that you hold prone,
'cause if you don't, you might just pay.
In ways that only God commands,
with powers so surreal:
Exile you to far off lands,
Omnipotence, you'll feel.
Just say what your heart deems true,
and never sway at all.
Complete the things you want to do,
and don't dare take the fall
into the death of ignorance;
a mind that's not quite squared,
no new thoughts and no new stance;
in life, too bad you fared.
Thus, all out there who wish to sing
great words to state ideas,
with much sincerity you'll bring
and change all men to be as
incredible as the setting sun;
a sight that's not to be missed;
not loathing in love that's already done,
for beauty and life you kissed.
A change that's always good and sound,
with a tone, it's loud and clear
that breaks the chains, our mind, it's bound
by uncertain thoughts and fear.
When passed on to posterity,
to keep the lighthouse bright,
on track, no, not 'and where is she?'
for kept up is the fight
against the me that's just not known
when you inscribe your soul
you pass on the seed that's freshly sown
that makes your treetrunk whole
and makes the glad from up above
upon all faces show
just how much happiness and love
in ears that you can blow.
We are lovers: You are the chant
sung by primeval man,
never saying 'no one can't'
behind our eyes, we know we can
and always do in REM,
the truth we see and fly.
Our life-force kills the BEM.
Inside, we know we'll never die.
This is the reason, and the rhyme
we try to pass our Universe
in words that eat a lot of time
by writing meter and the verse:
To break the no fruit cycle-track
to pick our eggs in spring:
To bring the Renaissance Man back;
A simple rhythmic gathering.
circa 1996
From the soul and heart,
into the depth of mind,
reform beliefs around you cart.
Old, dead ideas just leave behind.
Convey in truth with strong conviction.
Convert them to the light.
Hold strong unto your firm intention.
Defeat them with your might
of mind and logic. Blow their cone
into tomorrow's yesterday,
with your skills that you hold prone,
'cause if you don't, you might just pay.
In ways that only God commands,
with powers so surreal:
Exile you to far off lands,
Omnipotence, you'll feel.
Just say what your heart deems true,
and never sway at all.
Complete the things you want to do,
and don't dare take the fall
into the death of ignorance;
a mind that's not quite squared,
no new thoughts and no new stance;
in life, too bad you fared.
Thus, all out there who wish to sing
great words to state ideas,
with much sincerity you'll bring
and change all men to be as
incredible as the setting sun;
a sight that's not to be missed;
not loathing in love that's already done,
for beauty and life you kissed.
A change that's always good and sound,
with a tone, it's loud and clear
that breaks the chains, our mind, it's bound
by uncertain thoughts and fear.
When passed on to posterity,
to keep the lighthouse bright,
on track, no, not 'and where is she?'
for kept up is the fight
against the me that's just not known
when you inscribe your soul
you pass on the seed that's freshly sown
that makes your treetrunk whole
and makes the glad from up above
upon all faces show
just how much happiness and love
in ears that you can blow.
We are lovers: You are the chant
sung by primeval man,
never saying 'no one can't'
behind our eyes, we know we can
and always do in REM,
the truth we see and fly.
Our life-force kills the BEM.
Inside, we know we'll never die.
This is the reason, and the rhyme
we try to pass our Universe
in words that eat a lot of time
by writing meter and the verse:
To break the no fruit cycle-track
to pick our eggs in spring:
To bring the Renaissance Man back;
A simple rhythmic gathering.