The cavalry charged, leading the way
The infantry advanced, joining the fray
As for me, I was up to a little deviltry
Donned my goggles ~ battled virtual reality
You! Demon in the sack,
Put the bollards around the heart to tame the love of old.
Doing penance for thousands of years
In anticipation at the Château of Delight, …that it?
Well, simple necessities of life convey into the lore of romance,
And you atone for the sins, and you show the kindness,
And you do until you die, as he did in the sky.
A heap of stones drag me down to the bottom
Of this mystic river of thoughts, or a short puff of pleasure,
When I see my lass walking down the old road, for a good measure.
Nah, it’s not treasure, but a mignonette on an open palm
As a shiny ghost that refrains from talking into the ear of a hearer,
A messenger for ought I know, and I know not, until I hear her.
And then she coos, and then I coo, what to do, if I don’t woo?
My fervid desires, my lucky four-leaf clover, the smell
Of cinnamon on the lips of this dame, this lass,
I do not care for as long as I make her confess,
And I don’t want just to woo, but deviltry her moist with dew.
Mick Jagger was the fire to be lit
The stage was bare and lay waiting
The world was full of
"What to do", "What to try", "What to be"
And "He" was ready for the story line........
Possessed by the rhythm of his generation
In words emanating from his musing
He told the classic rebel story
Of going against the grain
To form one's own circuitry
Belonging exclusively to
The worship and reverence of rebellion
Buzzing with charged power
His notes ushered in a new beginning
A new sound that was recreated from
The annals of historical gutsy
Down and Dirty blues
Spiked with sex and sprinkled with deviltry
That will live in classic timelessness
The rogue stood tall and whirled
His mischievous spell
Wielding wildness between the irony of good and evil
Contempt and virtue
From the age old conflict of the timeless crusade
A hero - no, an evangelist of life - yes
An inexhaustible circuit rider of our time
A Rolling Stone..........he gathered no moss!
I was immersed in an impervious imagination
of these frail flowers feigning a feel of freedom
I watched their wings whirling in whoredom
Impious, they are implanted with impinged impetus
A dignified dust, decorated and dubbed a domineer
Yet they decided to be detritus on a detour, detrained.
Thronged by thick thorny thoughts, theme and thrust
On a throne of thistles, ever thrilled by thralldom,
Pots parading potpourri, they preen in power pomp,
positioned in a plain, poisoned, they prey on the potter,
O where did you wield those wings of woeful wisdom;
to trail the terrain that will only twist and tame you.
A dust you are, drunk and drenched with delusion
Deluged by derisory dream in the domain of darkness,
you drill and drink from the dust you did not designed
O dignified dust, your destiny is but dross and dust.
Devious: you devise deviltry with the devoiced dusts,
With a magmatic mind, mutinous against your marker
Your beauty, brain and brawns will soon get broken,
And you will be drowned in the dust you dignified…
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