The Irvings are Un-nerving...

Seeing with the heart is un-nerving from the start,
when the brain is encased in a pumpkin head.
A jackal lantern will view the world from a logical
conclusion, as the collusives all said. A propo, here's
the world that you think you know. Huh? Say what?
Is it so?

In a linear way we are doomed as the apocalypists say,
we must retreat to the past of a better day and, oh,
by the way, there is this thing called a plausibility
that will get in the way. It's a tower of structure with
mirrors and smoke, leaden windows squared off with
sighs that will choke... a poor believer in a frock coat.

Ichabod, crane your neck when you wake from the winkle,
cider house rules when society tinkles, the wisest of all from
your Tarry-town, where men can ride when no one's around.

Those Irvings are un-nerving, but one thing is sure
if you read 'em you weep for the surely insecure.

A scary world, where the strong of heart is the one to adore.
Oh and meany, you read, and weep, and un-nerve some more.

The nightmare on mainstreet

So the little fauntleroy misfit has risen to the top
as a well established businessman, a rather curious
kind of fop... the people have spoken in these auspicious
times where there is no pretense or prettiness that can
manufacture false rhymes... it's just pretense of the times.

AC/DC is well and good and death metal is the shout of should,
oh man, it sucks to be a woman if a woman actually could.

The menfolk are all cozy cuz they knew all along, the the goddess
thing was folly in a crazy mermaid thong, she knows you're right
in being wrong. A sponge can soak a lot of tears and wear a cloak of
a thousand years. The goddess is no virgin mother, that story is the one
yet to be uncovered or discovered... whatever the channel will tell
when the money paves its road to hell. Hello, do you like my hat?

An so? What? Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy?
Kids today will not eat ivy, no matter what the pundits say. Reap what
you sow in fields that give a clue against an enemy you do not know, (said
the mousy old shrew, who knew what no lemming ever knew).

Mainstream like main street is just another victim, we don't endorse them
cuz we don't pick them, said the brave little girl who had a little curl
right in the middle of her forehead, foreshadowing what her ancestors
thought but couldn't be said from the land of the living dead.

I see chaos and I see change and dogs of pride with hides of mange.

Come out, come out, wherever you are, don't waste your love on a celebrity star.

Love is what you came to do, love is who you are. Ignore the noise and it will
fade, then it will go away... wagging it's tail behind them and hoping for a brighter day. That day is where you are. It's a dream and you are the victory Star.

I arrest my case. A nightmare is a mental case.

Oh the Goddess... she did not come to please

There she was as an innocent on the beach,
modest as the time of day on a sandy dock
with a poodle skirt and her bobbie socks...
to an evening gown singing happy birthday
with a dia-mind crown. So renowned.

Whore of babble-on, jealous wife who
sought to right the blackest of knight.
Why even waste your breath, on a faunteleroy
with a phantom vest... a poor joke at best.

Some came for crazy dreams, some came for vengeance
from a past so broken as an infinite jest... but I digress.

Born in a world so foreign from sane, like a rusted whale
on a weather-vane... turning with winds from a vacant eye
and wondering, can this really be real, and why?

The menfolk are gathering their forks regardless of their belief
in storks, and cabbages, and kings... they feel reviled by the
fat lady who sings. Sweet Jesus, I'm feeling the sway
of the many men who forgot how to pray in an awkward
but confident way. If they don't have guns they cannot play.
(She just shakes her head in dismay)

The pleasing and cowardly try is a tired old biddy to forces
inside, there's no asking and pleading and sighs,
a force to be reckoned with is waiting, wanting, and standing
at the door. Will you let her inside? She is just another face
that your trying to hide. A sinewy snake but a call to the wise.
We will not stand for this abuse anymore. Not for our children
or their futures in store. Mothers arise, it's what you came here for!

Those most condemned are often the most trustworthy, when
there is nothing left to hide. A goddess holds webs as an art form
as time drifts on by. It's the rightenous holding a black book who
will be uncomfortably shy. The Goddess in compassion will
understandably know why. She is empathic, but not so shy.

So please if you will whatever you believe, see the undoing of your
personal greed and know in your fullest of heart... a mother's love
was the greatest sacrifice of your own little heart.

She will not please or go down on her knees, so you better get over
it and change your mind. The goddess is waiting for the reign of
man-kind. Isn't it time?