they get so hateful when
they can't pin you down with
a label
and if you're so full with
life
that you
can't stay still
people get
real shook up
you won't
bend to their will.

It's really strange,
to leap from the page
to come
really alive,
not as a
nostalgia-revival-product-craze

You see the people
you'd edit
all along the way
start to shove
right on past
and try and take
your bright
away

or maybe some
save face
and slather on
a
money-poet's grace
but when it's
down to
bare bones
it has a limit
it will age

I learned what heart is
I learned what art is
I learned what the corporate
music industry is.
I learned that
rock, folk, this revival
and that revival
is typically connections you can buy
or making a sales niche and having
an obedient materialist survival.


This is an ancient test,
to me at least,
that I understand
cannot be packaged,
or pre-emptively released.
It's like Osirians preparedness
for the After-Life Trek
none of the Earthly Desires
had been a high eagered check

yet life keeps it along
rubs salt in your face
seems to advance the
predictable or the heartless
into the majorly chase.

I like testing waters
and mixing elements
performing new tests of substance
or I cannot happily rest
and so what is unstillness
comes often confused
with extreme disagreement
just the expectations of me
are very hard to amuse.

What is life, lived, living to me
seems to reject being still
Like I should be happy or contingent
of others shaping my will
Maybe it's a bit outspoken
my will to program my own brain,
I think to do arts again and again
exactly the same is insane
and that the OverSoul should steer,
and the risk is worth the take
so if I should be judged or de-listed
by the majority
I would still necessitate my wake

I would still stick to my truth
I would still do as I truly do
Ans speak and listen to
my OverSoul
whether it translates pure to
or confuses you.

Because  this is my one life
and many visages cycle along
in the webs of generations
Yet my Will and Soul is strong.
& I keep my challenges inside,
not seeking to wring or monetize
things which I feel others would not value
unless they felt it through my eyes

& it's personal to me,
like some Loci or some Guide,
and the ancient archetypes
are still fillments compound inside
but it cannot be marketed or slurred
or embodied to the hordes
and it's easy to see Truth Intense
comes intense enough to be ignored
because the realness of the task
to self-process the waking soul
is beyond a generation fad
or arrogant, in-fights and control.

So daring if it is,
or retracted from the pulse
of the dizzying world collective,
is an apparition I love the most.
It's a reflection of Silver Lighting
where once friends and brothers
and kin don't shed
between a mercury of crimson
touching a soot grey slate of led.

Never did I think in a present day
I'd walk between floods and flames
between indignant hipster demons
or the Godless upon unmarked graves.
I expected wisers not kali yuga
and I expected mature ancient souls
I close my eyes and see some early visions
between the priestess and hierophant's scroll.