Little boxes with a pink bow
A hand gun for Christmas
He watery eyes hazel and tried
I look for that good vibe
...
Tides of morning as clean as hope
Sweep the floor of the trite
Silver genius once in awhile
Something new must be inside
...
Blue robes like a Siddhartha sky
Purity comes in surprise
Tantric rhymes like a mystic sleep
Canyons deep in lands of symbols
...
An alley of sordid carrousel lamps
Easel of Champaign neurons
Quiet spun dreams growing
Reach for mystic Dali apples
...
I shall walk with Wordsworth by the lakes
Sit with Aristotle by the Aegean Sea
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Journey into cryptic monolithic soul
City of temptation turned into vacuous ice
So much of the culture is gimmicks
Nothing breeds except money
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Hard to believe you're there
Like a star of silent midnight
Like a haunted forlorn castle
Like forgotten serene moonlight
...
Forest mandala circle of life
Silent orchids
Upon vernal altars joy entrances
You were there from the beginning
...
The world is not enough
All the Egyptian flowers
Every tower of vile perfume
Singers of the silk resolve
...