Dime Store Novel Poem by Jon Alan

I'm a dime store mystic
With my bottle of Poland Spring
And my dessicated liver
From all these medications
'Cause the doctors got their hands on me
'Cause those western medical hacks got their dirty hands on me

Living in the periphery
Between the edge of life
And those worlds that come later
Somehow my Spirit got loose
And I found my way into those forbidden lands
That's how I became a dime store mystic
And philosopher

I'm in a book on a rack in the Tibetan Mountain bookstore
Called 'The Akashic Records and Books'
I'm just one character among many
In those trashy dime store stories
One that got loose somehow
And transgressed, with some help from some Angels
That took pity on me
Saw me crying that day at the window
That's how I got loose and began my mystic journey
Into the foothills of the mountains of the Tibetan Monks
That the Chinese are practicing Genocide on
And have been for decades

I'm this book on a rack whose main character got set free
And I walked out of that book
And right out the door of that Holy dime store
And began my journey from the collective imagination
And out onto the path up the mountain
Where the most secret and successful mystic monkeys
Practice secret chants that have more power in their little pinkey
Than the rest of guilty humanity has in its collective brain
Whats so important about humanity anyway
There are a group of bugs that have a cultural and social life
That make humanity's society look de-evolved to the extreme
But what's new there, eh?

So that's my story
How I got free
And made some unknown history
Challenging the standard moirès of our times
And rang some bells that chimed and chimed
Saying, 'Look, I made it out,
So can you.' But who cares about you anyway
I do
I guess
Unfortunately for me
You see
You don't really matter
Unless you get out of your dime story
And ring some bells of your own.
Otherwise your just a character
In a cheap dime store storybook
And you'll dry up with time
But that's enough of that
It's your choice, yeah really, your choice
Be or shut up
Be or just fade
Stoke that fire from within or just embers of charcoal you'll be
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
Eh my Captain - haha?

Don't give 'em what they want
Take what's yours by a mandate of - yes - YOU!
No - you're not a thief

Just a soul warrior
Wandering the myriad paths
That wayward wanderers wearily
Wantonly walk, nay, tread upon
Tread sweetly dear soul
Replace your disdain with Love or go to Hell
I'm tired of your nonsense
Because I Love you so.

Now I've got to get back on my blind path
Wave a little good-bye to me
I was just a cheap story in a dime store novel
In the 'Akashic Books and Records' store
But I somehow stepped out from between the covers
And now I'm fighting the fight of my life
To keep my newfound flame of life alive
And walk on for eternity
Towards the Heavens I strive
Remember me when you can
We used to be characters in these two among billions of untold stories
In the secret bookshop in the Tibetan Himalayas
Who would look for us there
Hahahahahahahahahahahaha


Echoes of laughter as he disappears around the bend
But that eerie laughter lingers long after
Because he knows now he's Free.