Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
Sweetest love, I do not go,
For weariness of thee,
Nor in hope the world can show
A fitter love for me;
But since that I
Must die at last, 'tis best
To use myself in jest
Thus by feign'd deaths to die.
Yesternight the sun went hence,
I'm going out and get something.
I don't know what.
I don't care.
Whatever's out there, I'm going to get it.
Look in those shop windows at boxes
and boxes of Reeboks and Nikes
to make me fly through the air
like Michael Jordan
While I'm up there, I see Spike Lee.
The pale, the cold, and the moony smile
Which the meteor beam of a starless night
Sheds on a lonely and sea-girt isle,
Ere the dawning of morn's undoubted light,
Is the flame of life so fickle and wan
That flits round our steps till their strength is gone.
O man! hold thee on in courage of soul
Through the stormy shades of thy wordly way,
And the billows of clouds that around thee roll
Without you every morning would feel like going back to work after a holiday,
Without you I couldn't stand the smell of the East Lancs Road,
Without you ghost ferries would cross the Mersey manned by skeleton crews,
Without you I'd probably feel happy and have more money and time and nothing to do with it,
Without you I'd have to leave my stillborn poems on other people's doorsteps, wrapped in brown paper,
Without you there'd never be sauce to put on sausage butties,
Without you plastic flowers in shop windows would just be plastic flowers in shop windows,
Without you I'd spend my summers picking morosley over the remains of train crashes,
Without you white birds would wrench themselves free from my paintings and fly off dripping blood into the night,
Without you green apples wouldn't taste greener,
I had always loved being near deep-sea water, and I was never too far away,
As the beauty of fresher tomorrow, is but mystic hours from prevalent today.
I enjoyed swimming and boating and surfing, and even walking in light rain,
Like aromatic blooms, shrubs and thirsty trees, with no reasons to complain.
I lived in a sun washed house of the noon, always waiting for a pearly moon,
After an introspective pause at maroon twilight, when birds sang their tunes.
I had two pets-a cat and a rabbit, and they loved frisking in the grassy yard,
Hello, says the sun, with his bright, warm smile,
Leap frogs are jumping in the cool, green river,
As red robin flies past singing, for many a mile,
And the cool morning breezes, make me shiver.
Good morning, blue sky, where fluffy clouds flit!
Yellow butterflies will be soaring all the day long,
Around and around this beautiful, green planet,
Where violet birds sing the good morning songs.
I was a compelling abstract painter, engrossed in the world of vibrant colors,
Like the endless intensities of rainbow hues, that cancel any need for others.
Beauty was was always in my naked eye, in warped images of a colorful life,
Like artistic nature, which always draws the eye, to where the colors are rife.
A peach sun rose each morning, above my colorful house, on a cubist street,
And all my colorful, cubist neighbors, so friendly in tangerine summer's heat!
All rectangular trees bore lime green, square leaves, with circular, sunbeams,
The golden hour for rising has arrived, and there are violet roses in the sky,
So, I bid hello to you, my robust friend, as the vibrant, cerise birds float by.
The obsidian night, it was very long, and was filled with pleasant dreaming,
Like scenes from the heart of jade forests, where lush nature is screaming.
But the dark hours seem as ages past, since you have risen on the horizon,
Reflecting your glory in the limpid waters, as day slowly begins to brighten.
So nice to see you again, my old friend, peering in the doors and windows,
So mellow like honey!
You are lighting up all my days,
and blooms come to call, wherever you fall.
Greenest days under sapphire skies!
We live in a gold world,
and we all seek