ONCE upon a mind, I dreamed in a nightmare
Of a world of eyes and a world of flairs
There, where the leaves fell madly from the trees,
I sensed eyes heave into madness and despair
And here there were eyes that slithered in black;
And here there were eyes that danced at the back,
And where time roistered and blew quite away,
My memories were foistered in the eyes of decay
And, o, what a world was here constrained
In the eyes of the spheres and their ravaging rains
Ah, what a wasteland was here seen,
Where the eyes of the world slid down into a dream.
As if from a cloud or some loud shroud of sleaze,
Here flittered eyeless demons and heretic, eyeless screams.
Looking down far into the eyes of pain,
I sensed my vision van and crash inside wet grain.

This man who fears no shade of dark
Nor any death inside its dart
Must come to shear away the bright
And rape Abandon with foresight.
These verses, shorn of manna's shape,
Must madden as the dawn's decline
Rends away all happy dreams
And shears away the light's recline.

Eyes in eyes that know no route to the maiden at its root
Of the sun inside her murder, must disclaim a mystic murder.
Twice the times that make us live must proclaim the singer false,
And the witness to death's rills must disclaim a narrow pulse.
Eyes in eyes that know no route to the maiden at the heart
Of the moon inside her rage, must disclaim the veils of art.
Twice the times that make us vie with the atoms of the dead
Must proclaim all living cruel as the sentry in god's head.
Of night the poet's nightmare lives a cimmerian grove of gloves;
Gloves on parried hands of heat that rend away death's throttled meat.
This crashing noise inside god's brain decries the sickness in the veins,
And eyes must know the route to cite each turning christ of deus night
As love that lives for aimless lust lists the shutters in the dust,
Breaking doves with violet skeins, wrought inside their daisy chains.
Twice the winter in the hand swipes away the Judas lambs
And the scorning of death's mind severs off a maiden wynd.

A wasp within the dome of theft stings the creature in the lobes,
Warping nooses from the drifts of the cretin in a rose.
Twice the world is born today from the arcs of roundalays:
Twice the hedon, twice the blast, of love's preacher under glass.
And the birth of Judas man must condemn the Jesus clan,
Reigning where all frozen fearing slights the Word inside its searing.
Twice the world is born today from the arcs of roundalays:
Twice the hedon, twice the blast, of the spheres inside their flask.
The poet's nightmare ends with fuck and cracks a phallic yearning,
Shended darkly where love's luck flights the dawn in spurning.

Twice the moon inside the vein warps away a singer's gain-
Thus this earth is all-absolving, co-created in its rolling!
Do not proclaim the rivers false
Where the rocking lightning grows
Nor bark away the flocking pulse
Where death's winter thunder glows.

The poet's nightmare ends with truth that cracks a ferris at its root
And cuts the chords of kingdom come, shended as death's orizon...

sweats. eyes, first coptic of the rock that wrecks. eyes, as endless as
the hunter's suffrage. eyes, as endless as the neon meadows. eyes, this
girl gathers shells for her furies. eyes, this girl farms the shores for
truth. eyes, no man is the endless sickle sentry. eyes - underhouse, the
fire's uncouth. LAMERICA! LAMERICA! LAMERICA! LAMERICA! fist the fusion,
make her scream. LAMERICA! the serpent dream. LA Child, LA Wild, LA Wild,
LA Child. the home is burning, let the winter come. the home is burning,
let the madness come. the home is burning, as wicked as the sea. the home
is burning - let sulphur be. the home is burning, as trendless as the
dawn. LA Wild, LA Child - no more peace, just form...

jdb 1997

...
meant to double as some sort of songsheet
re. Kubla Khan. ..i adore the poetry of the genius Samuel Taylor Coleridge