IX625 Annuit Coeptis Into the Mystery Cover Art Prologue The Call The Choice The Press The Trial The Answer Afterword Home Site Map Contact Search Message Board

Dream Yet Complete A Nursery Rhyme for Grown-Ups Five | The Answer Perhaps to fill the vacuum, that nature does abhor   The story chose this vessel, to be its metaphor Dueling with the either-or, in land of right or wrong   I, gray matters of the heart, cross common censor's song Rhythm technicolors in, the lines that drew this hint   Rock and roll with punches thrown, anger isn't it Holding fire, let's play and seek, the black and whites of lies   Scarcely caught in second's glance, demand supplied disguise Nursery rhymes and fairy tales, prince and the prodigal one   Independents intersect, whit and the pendulum Closer moments shave for truth, Cinco de Mayo meant   "Fireworks!" says Mom's gold goose, "Skylight, ladies and gents" Turning cheek to other cheek, exchanges upper hand   With one-two combinations, romantic's dream is fanned Syncopate the metronome, tick talking hypno-box   Rowing gently up that stream, good timing keys the locks Easy as the count to three, that once upon a time   Cast the way our little boats, serve life for petty crime Abstract finger painted words, to dance the metaphor   Makes the rhyming reason, for those who will explore Twenty-six, pick-up sticks, word pictures do you see   Common sense, evidence, in conflict do they be Look the question in the eye, extract what's make believed   Prism bends the lighted path, like notions preconceived Then all the king's horses and men, pick up the pieces again   Almost united they fall, back into flickering REM Walkers enabled by cane, graceless two-bit program   Adding subtraction divides, rounding up rules in this land Obvious is obscured, blind-sided by what's undone   Binary processing hides, punch line shining in sun Homonym or homophone? Whys seek reconditions   Simile's analogous, like hows the new reflections? Paradox parks parallel, meter coined neglections   Parabolic apologue, compliments complexions Metaphoric metaphors, jumping to convictions   Coat of many clashing colors, fashions sense in questions Look the question in the mirror, ask in this other's land   You have two and you see two, most say that means two hands Some begin a'wondering, take two by two by four   Frame both reference and point, check primal too square lore Take me for prime example, find in the three by fives   Quicksilver's imposition, the One kept me alive Thank goodness jamming session, still rocks there by the shore   Doubt's reign bowed all the errors, until the great encore Timid fingers now imprint, relayed across the land   Third-based touchstone signals: Sift! Charms all not understand Till memory's first service, returns the right thought left   Sweet blossoming scent from above, to help unwarp the weft Long ago, far and away, and always somewhere near   Conductor's instrumental, sends notes to inner ear Harmonic reconvergence, improvisation's planned   To amend the broken page, pour melodies from band Watering the wildest flowers, a second-handed chance   To trade in white-washed paddock walls, for suit and horse and lance What starry-eyed boy or girl, dressed in grown disguise   Would spend so much time looking up, the ears, nose, throat, and eyes Pretending to play doctor, while double-checking chokes   "What's it cost and what's my change?" the warted toady croaks What distilled in beating heart, could cease and then resist   This night made for remembering, then good sun's rising kiss Look in and out, then all about, what is is what we see   When what's to be expected, fades in memory To judge and jury, gallery, respect I do submit   This crime you think me guilty of, that crime I did commit Your common senseless lessons, I did in fact fit in   Replaced my sense of purpose, The Unoriginal Sin Wasting time as well as soul, a self-preoccupation   To become part of the hole, a tragic avocation Ignorance is no excuse, but ignorant I've been   Ignorant of everything, I've heard and touched and seen Thinking it reality, but from the point of view   Of everything most everyone, accepts as real and true But 'tween the child and the grown-up, imagination grew   Ways and means for eyes to tease, over, around, and through Crisscrossing reconnections, tap drummer's little snares   A dot to dash, to energize, reflections the shell wears Between logic and emotion, between good-night and mourn   The child spun a hiding place, I never knew I'd worn Afterword