Come Together Poem by David Lacey

As mystery ferments within the womb of Our Mother
We anticipate the rebirth of appreciation.
Meditate within your shell,
Build your heaven from the remnants of a hollow hell.

Ramble little lamb, forever onwards towards the horizon,
As clouds above form as child flown chariots, raining down
Strikes on inspiration. Forget regret.

The Muse she stirs my heart a blur,
As spiral constructs obstruct the glare
Of Apollo in his pride

High above, oh yellow yoke
The higher he’s a getting
The sooner will his race be run
The nearer he’ll be to setting.

Towers cooling bellow smoke into the purity of the skyline.
Tainting yellow, a sickly shade the skin of those fools
Who would dig a hole with the palms of their hands,
If only to find a spade.


The void beckons beyond the flick of a switch,
In absence of substance the soul feeds upon itself.
Catering for carelessness, placing consideration upon the shelf.

Sing Bard Sing
Oh what a Love it is you bring.
Satisfy my soul in grooving the
Story untold.


An ode to un-named Gods un-tamed.
Never to be seen by waking wise.
Roaming through the wilderness
Crimson fury in their eyes.
Recognition fuels their strength
They seek a guardian tribe.
They seek their recognition so they may
Dwell secure within a swelling pride.
Still they retain a power that surpasses
All but the Fates who rule as the hand unseen.
Waking eyes seek no surprises.
They expect the sun in the sky by day.
Seek the midnight source unseen.
Let it guide your way.


In the duration of our souls existence eternal it lay as an internal necessity
Within the process of harmonious balance that one day we each will meet
Its half to make them whole. Opportunities wasted may one day be placed
Again before your soul. As wine ready to be tasted. Don’t spit it out. Don’t waste in wanting. Seek not profit as your goal as a prophet, understand your dreams.

Destiny lay as a thread defined
Within the dreams that form within our minds.

Born of ether
Calm the child
Send him to the valley wild.
Within the green,
So he may dream
Of a picture he can paint.
Un-tainted by the perversion of perfection.
How are we to prepare if Fate is so willing
To tear the fabric routine without reservation.
How am I to set my path if the Fates are so
Willing to laugh down upon the face of my
Reluctance to dance a game of chance.


Through reflections we find no affection for the form of the soul
That lay before, the questing soul, a filling hole, seeks the doorway
Concealed to be revealed through pious sacrifice.

Say.
Say what you are wanting to say,
Play it your way.
For you know as well as any
That your way is the only way
To play the games they’ll want you to play.
Have it your way,
Say.

In an age of lawlessness
We find Justice laid out upon the floor,
Empty bottle in hand, howling for more.
Intoxicated and deranged,
She knows no longer the balance of the scales.
She knows no longer her failings derailed.
As she wades through the filth that swamps our streets,
As we grimace in paranoia in confrontation with the
People we meet, How it saddens my heart to see this town,
This world of ours tearing itself apart.



Slip inside the looking glass
Within a process of meditation
As a shaman lead the trance in frenzy
Whilst dancing to the beat of rhythmic intoxications.


Excess skin hands loose from the bones of her construct.
Ripples encircle her nipples as she moves,
As the fabric constraint maintains the firm of her bosom.
Fishnet stockings dissect the flesh revealed.
As eyes furious in their monitor
Collide upon her frontier.
Imagination fuels desire as burning in and out of fashion
The hidden torch pf passion lay ready to feel the crashing of the tides.

Only the blind may face Apollo without fear of obscure visions.
Only the man who wishes to keep in tact the illusion of sanity
Would wish to wipe away the tears. Be not scared to embrace the
Vision that greets you as you glance to grasp for just one moment
The form of Apollo’s glory.