POEM: The Tides Erupt

[pert -5]

The Tides Erupt
12-25-2007
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In all their glory the tides erupt.
When the planes are not in the sky
The angel with the smallest wing shall cry
When she has got to say goodbye
To the the glory of the tide....
The tides erupt in my mind.

Listen:
In the beginning the mind is blank.
There are no thoughts;
But the mind is there none-the-less.
A need for thoughts arises
And of course there are no words or images to convey these....
This need is dynamic, if there were "words" or "images" it would be static.
Images and vessels then flow in to assuage the need and eventually reach Idea.
Now the mind has a union of dynamic and static which gives birth to a new entity:
Idea... Knowledge.

The tides erupt in my soul.
They let me go like a wandering beggar
Blind and diseased.
Demons only attack in order to be reviled and exorcised.
My home is safe when I go there,
I see my bed and my chair,
The computer waiting for me to type
About the founding of some new archetype.  (terrible rhyme, I know)
The tides erupt upon the beach
In the sullen bleach they rise
To the best of the tides
I am above myself.

God capitulates to he who has the desire.  That is the magician.  Ha!

The tides erupt when least desired.
They are never weary of being tired
Of being rewired in the the circuit I fired.
Blank blank blank, pardon my french.
The tides erupt in the lowest of the high
Like a flight of some mind
In the tumultuous sky....

Don't bury your sin before it is dry.  Just make sure it is such and such....

I made the tides erupt.
On the Egypt isle,
On the shore of Pompeii,
In the seas of Oedipus' dislodged logic.
Convert them to priests,
The land and sea and sky.
Dry the sky and warm the sea.
Heal!!!  That is this.  Peace is the number 6!