value

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  • Emotional

    value

    Vision to Victory


    What is up dear brother of mine?
    Where is the friend I used to know?
    The high pretender,
    illuminating the ebb and flow?

    Sweet sacrifice,
    a tale so divine,
    where you hastily led,
    was your purpose a lie?
    Is it you that was fed
    by the corporate blind?

    The emerald visions are given to you.
    Lying back on the field,
    The Milky Way will treat you just fine

    Universal Goddess does flower

    And yield a true taste divine

    A Gift of nourishment,

    Resurrection it seems.

    Wake up and find,

     what all this means?

    Wasted, but no regrets,
     time disappears because of circumstance,
    where is all of mine?
    Gone with a wish?


    Asking for more,

     Knowing as I let it go,
    it already came true,.  There”

    Resurrected
    as you are it tearing it down?
    Making plans
     in this universe,
     surely.
    Keeps you earth bound.
    reinventing, rearranging
    reinventing the plot.



     

    My art all fused together,
    history stacked in my alchemist velvet lined box, reaching for recognition,
    reinventing, rearranging
    reinventing the plot.

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    diggz commented on value

    05-03-2011

    Entered this in the Paramount song contest, has anyone worked with them. I had them make a demo to see how they do.

    seemog commented on value

    12-13-2010

    I'm really feeling this here, now! i hear a sweet fusion of drumz,sitars in the back of my head when I read er

    diggz

    05/14/2011

    Lets do it, as we make it ,rocking we don't fake it!!

    SavVySam commented on value

    04-25-2010

    The sting of betrayal at your expense is artfully woven through this lyrical chant...Nice work...Keep writing;)

    diggz

    05/14/2010

    Hi Savvy, thank you for your comments I really appreciate the insight. I am just playing with this one still. Needs more direction. Respect to you and your poetry. INspiring

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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