(Album recorded
in 1986)
♦ ♦ ♦
As changes swirl throughout life
To scatter yon dear time
We settle into space
With good that’s left behind
Held fast by supreme mind
Posting evidence of grace.
The spirit shall be born again.
Shall open eyes
Wide baby’s eyes
To view the star
To hear the sound
Time flashing clean
Into the now
Christ in glory shining
stands
And Christmas dawns on man.
I’ll give an example.
When I moved to Nashville
I loaded all my earthly
possessions
In a beat up old car and
started driving.
Somewhere south of St. Louis,
It was nighttime,
I started getting an uneasy
feeling in my stomach.
It was like I had stretched
an imaginary umbilical cord to its limit.
It was like I could no
longer go any further as long as it remained attached.
That night as I sped down
the highway
I took out an imaginary pair
of scissors
And I cut!
From that point on
Life was mine.
Ah, there were times when I
came up to the surface
Reaching and grasping
Wanting to take hold of that
old withered end
That was left there hanging.
But it could never be put
back together.
I guess there were times
when I thought I could
When my life was in a pinch
But I couldn’t.
It was symbolic, yet real
enough for me
I cut myself loose…
I cut myself free...
And that’s what we all have
to do,
Sooner or later.
Someday you’ll decide
And when you do
You’ll cut yourself loose
Just like and everyone
must...
♦ ♦ ♦
I think about you still from
time to time
With mixed emotions.
Though the hurt is gone away
Love comes into play
And I still miss you.
I know you lied to me.
In secret turned and
laughed.
And still I know you care
for me.
You were my rod and staff.
For something deep inside of
me
Was forever stirred
In the stilling grasp of
majesty
Of truth positioned words.
♦ ♦ ♦
He learned early how to
still his pleasures.
Guilt to support guilt,
Shame promoting shame.
♦ ♦ ♦
I hurt you and you left me
Said you’d hate me near
forever.
And if I would but beg you
back,
Yet pride won’t let me ever.
Oh, must we bear the
starkness
Of the darkness
Of love hunger?
Then out it came, the pain
In cries of desperation.
You did not respond
I conned you into thinking
I was lost in desolation.
Yet, in honesty, I lied!
My truth
Was hiding
In the numbness
Of love hunger.
I close my fist on the air.
It’s there before me through
my fingers.
Squeezing out at life
Shifting low below me
Yet it lingers.
“Speak,” said I!
“Reply!
Set eye on melting shadow.”
For I long.
Soon I’ll be gone
In the dumbness
Of love hunger.
♦ ♦ ♦
Then all the warm had left
her flesh
And she be lying cold.
Yeah, God’s on breath
Won’t bring her back
Ah, soon be growing mold.
And to these elements I
sense
A vapor mist exhale.
For as respired in still,
still, death
Resolved winds fill her
sail.
♦ ♦ ♦
Where did it begin?
How shallow you thinking...
Theatre has always been.
Long before the vast cosmos
was formed
Theatre was looming
Unfolding in the minds
Of the always were
And the always will.
And imagine, if you can,
The theatrical spectacle
Of the forming of the suns
And the Galaxies.
And, yes,
Even this tiny spec of a
planet
Flying like an electron
Around a sun nucleus
In a whirl yon of infinince.
Ah, theatre has forever been
And will always be...
The life carriers implanting
the first sparks
In the sleepy misty lagoons…
Was that not drama?
And the rise of the sea…
And the splitting of the
continents…
Drifting island continents across
a teeming brine.
Single cells uniting
Complementing each other’s
functions
To create another being.
The first step on land…
Was that not a drama?
The reptiles.
The dawn of man.
Oh, what a drama that must
have been.
With the soundtrack of
nature
And the splashing spectacle
of colors
What feature fit
To play before the Gods.
Was that not drama?
You opened up my life.
My door was shut and closed.
I would not let you in.
I thought I’d never love
again.
Now on display I’m posed.
You opened up my life.
You opened up my life.
And when all is wrinkled and
old
I still quite see, yet then,
The feeling that I’m leaving
Is coming once again.
You opened up my life.
♦ ♦ ♦
Then dance, sweet princess.
Spin and prance.
Spring forth in sheer
utterance
Into the arms of your creator.
Entrance, dream weaver.
Remembrance.
White laced gloves of gems
incense
Icicles freezing time till
later.
For once on pointed toes
Did he but lift your eagle
wings to glory.
Like diamonds drenched in
spotlight
Did the sparkle of your
happy show.
Eyes met and paused in love.
Strings rumbled low in
expectation.
Address, embrace, swirl in
grace
Above the peak of
excitation.
Commence , pliè,
Experience the majesty of
audience
In silent stare awaiters.
For all the pain it took to
paint illusions trace
Is worth the memories,
So dance, sweet princess,
Dance!
♦ ♦ ♦
I die a little now and then…
Of my devise.
Locked in the material sin…
Of my devise.
Excepting “No,” and “Maybe.”
Count!
I gladly paid the full
amount.
And yet I savor to get out
Of my demise.
That hungry mouth cascading
ribbons of absurdities to the floor,
Speak to me.
I control you!
I make you talk, laugh, cry,
rumble.
Tick away your story,
You cold metal skin-like
object,
Tick!
♦ ♦ ♦
The sax said its hollow
words.
Mother, mother.
The drum ticked its saddened
rolls.
Mother, mother.
And as the fire flicked low
One thought
Of all the things that life
had taught.
Mother, mother.
The candle sighed a dying
breath.
Father, father.
The lamp lighter had met his
death.
Father, father.
And darkness came in like a
sea
The tallow dried and had to
freeze.
Father, father, father.
♦ ♦ ♦
Bolstering great boisterous
blabber
High promises were made.
And the self-dubbed Cordelia
spake
In echoing waves of
absurdities.
And hearing those loud claps
of thunder
Eyes were turned away
Save one who listened,
trusted.
♦ ♦ ♦
You wear your feelings like
a feathered cap
Atop a mound of hair.
Cascading floor-length dress
And diamonds dripping from
your wrist
Into a clutch purse closed
to giving and receiving.
Shock treatments!
Insulting
Any warmth of interchange.
♦ ♦ ♦
Make me the poet laureate
To ride in limousine
Reciting before egghead
words
Verse expired of
inspiration.
Imaginations cliché.
Take me from gaunt and gray
surroundings
To the cabaret.
♦ ♦ ♦
We were talking on the
concept of Universe time,
Mike and I.
He tried to write it earlier
and exposed it to me.
Little did he know that I
was stealing his idea
Right then and there.
For here, “Don’t worry about
the copyright Mike,” I said
“Who would try to steal your
ideas on universe time?
Ridiculous!”
♦ ♦ ♦
My dogs.
There’s four of them.
They chew on bones
Unaware of poetry that flows
around the room.
They chew.
♦ ♦ ♦
I’m hungry.
Please feed me.
Feed me with a message.
My soul burns.
We all, bar none
Suffer.
We suffer for the miracle
Of awareness.
We ache and yearn for
enlightenment.
When quiet,
Yes it’s true,
When we go deep within
ourselves,
Observe the parade of
thoughts.
We know we are someone.
We are.
I am.
I am observer of my
thoughts.
They are not me.
I can.
I can choose my thoughts.
I can choose to be
What
I AM.
♦ ♦ ♦
And now it’s time for the
talk.
I have the words,
All of them,
In a box.
I look at them from time to
time.
And I have the recordings,
All of them.
They’re in a cabinet.
I don’t listen to the
recordings.
But I have them.
♦ ♦ ♦
Day moon waxing high and
blue
Solar system
Orbital plains
Revolving orbs of time and
space
Energy
Nucleic center
Paradisiacal spot
Omnipresent circuit
Gravity of mind and spirit
balance
Unity
Above
Below
Within
Without
That is what I sense
Looking into your being.
You are one
And I am one with you.
All are you
And I
Are all
And now
In while there is
No autumn, spring,
But now
Projecting
In, I be with you.
A right.
A dark..
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
♦
♦ ♦ ♦
May something happen to open
the eyes of people widely?
After taming the elements,
Domesticating the land,
Creating shelter,
Fat bellies,
Beauty parlors,
May a window open to the
receptivity of meaning.
♦ ♦ ♦
Here we are in the silence
of the dark.
But imagine if you can or
have the mental spark
That once there was nothing
at all, except the dark.
Imagine if you can the
inexistence of light.
And if you have the will to
think, see eternal night.
So you see there is a thing
of insanity
In the belief that nothing
at all can be.
But now let’s have the dawn
with its reddish glow
To bring us back into the
existence we all know.
Here in the light is a
kinder field, and yet,
There are implications we must
not forget.
So lean back in your chair
now, for it’s not so bad.
Wisp away the myth of
nothing for it is only sad.
You see, by theory, this is
just a play.
We all know its effect will
never stay.
To pleasantries now we shall
speed
Entertainment is your need.
(Excerpt: Stonehenge)
1968-1977
♦ ♦ ♦
Plays have a spokesman or a
narrator normally.
Since there is no one else
here, it will have to be me.
So let’s go back a while in
time, back to the dawn of man
And let’s progress through this
dawn to see
If the sun will not set upon
a great folly .
And then perhaps we will see
with our lifeless eyes
Enough to make us stop a
while,
Give cause to analyze,
The sights we see upon the
stage
Illuminated from history’s
page.
This is a critical time
For any time is critical.
So here we sit in limbo
In a critical time.
It matters not when, or
where, or how, or why
For all times are critical,
And no plays have lasting
affects upon the times.
♦ ♦ ♦
As the lonely shepherd gazed
into the stars
From his grassy Urantia
hillside
He slowly came to the
realization that he was not alone.
A companion was inside of
him.
And like his companion
His contemplation was deep.
He spoke out loud,
And the word that came forth
on his breath formed “Yaw weh” on his
lips,
And from such a realization,
Seven superuniverses smiled
in unanimous approval.
♦ ♦ ♦
When God, whichever God he
was,
Created the Universe…
We know he made the earth a
turning sphere so delicately poised
That water flowed in waves
beneath the wind
And oceans arms encircled
the rough globe.
At God’s touch, lakes,
springs, dancing waterfalls
Streamed downhill into
valleys
Glancing through rocks,
grass, wind-flowered meadows.
Some ran their silver
courses underground.
Others raced into the seas
and broader oceans
And poured from distant
hills to furtherest shores.
Then God willed plain,
plateau, and fallen sides of hills
And deep leaved forests.
Over them he willed
rock-bodied mountains against the sky.
As in the highest heaven he
has two zones, above, below,
And his great isle to the
left, to the right, to the front, to the rear,
With dark bodies
surrounding, banishing light
From all who look inward,
but have not eyes to see...
And he has other zones ...
Divinington ... posted
Where none may land....
So God made zones on the
earth...
... Sun burnt deserts, naked
with heat, where none may live...
At each extreme, a land of
snow
And at their sides
Two zones of temperate
winds, and sun, and shifting cold.
(Excerpt: Stonehenge)
1968-1977
♦ ♦ ♦
The Angona system sucking
gasses from the sun…
Great surges of cosmic
lightening…
Spinning balls of gas
collecting, cooling, billions of years.
Water condensing. Landmasses
forming.
Continental drifts, settling,
preparation
For the implantation of
life...
Thus comes the Life
Carriers.
Thus forms the Amoeba.
From this we crawl out of
the sea.
Thus intelligent man.
(Excerpt: Stonehenge)
1968-1977
♦ ♦ ♦
Ash, cold ashes, that was
the color of the swell
As I sat gazing from a spot
warn smooth by me on this rocky Grecian hillside.
There is a sameness in this
place, just as there is in the sunrise
Which I settled to observe.
My little island, a boat, in
yet a larger ship
Circumnavigating through the
dark and light of seemingly endless cycles.
Below the village was
beginning to open its eyes.
Fishermen on the pier
repairing their nets,
And tourists packing their bags to load
on the coming steamer
Which would ferry them to
airports.
But I, with my bottle of
wine,
Was deeply preoccupied in
making sure
The sun would in fact rise.
That being a daily position
for me for as long as I cared to remember,
And what an important chore
it was.
Uncorking the bottle I could
by then clearly be sure
That the sun had not moved
overnight
For the gray was turning
into violet.
I put the bottle to my lips
and tilted back my head to let the flow enter.
The wait was over.
Now turning pink
I was sure the sun remained
stationary.
Standing and stretching the
stiffness out of my legs
I began the long descent to
the cottage below.
The ants, loading their
boats,
Unsuspecting as they were
Carried on with their life
routines
As though they had little
care about the matters
Concerning me or the
Universe.
It was then my sandal
snagged a stone
And tugging with my foot I
dislodged a most marvelous discovery.
♦ ♦ ♦
I’ve often had this feeling
that I was going to shrivel away
As if a great vacuum from within the
earth
Was going to suck the consistency
out of my body
Leaving no remains but that
of a raisin.
The urge got so great at
times I had to fight the pull to hold myself erect.
(Excerpt To The Bar)
1968
♦ ♦ ♦
Ever since I’ve been old
enough to contemplate existence,
I’ve been postponing
suicide.
That’s about it.
Knowing some day I’d have to
escape.
Not necessarily from life,
I love it more than most,
But from the insanity of
going on.
Postponing suicide.
Thinking maybe somehow
things would turn,
Or I would be fortunate enough
to be killed
Or die of disease instead.
Postponing suicide.
Perhaps thinking someday I
could do something to help mankind.
But most of all,
Postponing suicide
Because of fear.
Not fear of the unknown.
But fear of the familiar.
Fear of what people might
say afterward.
Postponing suicide because
of a fear
Of that mass mind and what
it can do to your name.
Why did he do it?
What got into that fellow?
He must have been a lunatic.
You see no one would
understand.
That’s what life has done to
me.
Postponing suicide.
Putting the inevitable off
until
At last until it has become
too late
To either live or die.
Postponing Suicide
Unitl it’s
OVER.
(Excerpt To The Bar)
1968
♦ ♦ ♦
Bear’s lying there.
Just look at him
Poor thing.
He has not a thought.
He’s just lying there
asleep.
With his mind so dulled that
not even dreams emerge.
Bear’s lying there.
Nothing’s on his mind.
Poor old thing.
He tries so hard...
But now
He’s just lying there.
Bear’s lying there,
No thoughts,
Just lying there sleeping.
Bear’s lying there.
He’s escaped now.
Everything’s fine until
tomorrow.
Bear’s lying there,
In a state
Which is his way to go.
Bear’s lying there,
Away from the world
In a mist of nothing....
Bear’s lying there,
Half gone, un man
Can’t stand himself
otherwise.
Lie there Bear.
Enjoy it now.
Tomorrow will come.
And again it will be tomorrow night
With you lying there away
from the world...
1968
♦ ♦ ♦
© 2001, Lee Rector, Reno, NV, USA, 606 Nebadon
Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.
All Rights Reserved