Grasping

(collab of Violet and Prophet)


We grasp with needy hands
at the moments that are flying past

We try to hold on
Not wanting this moment to
slip beyond reach

Missed chances shine brightly
here in the suburbs

We breathe the same air
as one another
Consuming the same elements
Living and being
together as one consciousness

Residing in a jagged-toothed city
sucking the same heavy smoke
Kicking the same broken bottles
that litter the pavement

Looking for greener pastures,
Finding godlike mountains,
Drinking from sacred rivers,
Diverting the flow
into temple flowing fountains,
Living liquid

perfectly discontent
listening to the whispering hours that pass us
knock-kneed and breathless
we feel the pulse of our tiny existence

Need to feel this connection now
Seeking to feel the feeling
of soft skin
under touch
of my
sensitive hand

I touch the gentle waters
beneath the blanket of midnight
Hot cream
and margarine lotion glow green
I listen with my fingers as it thrives

This moment seems to stand still,
as I listen to the magic of the waves
pulled by the tide to this beach,
to come crashing to the shore

Gentle waters reflecting nothing
The blanket of midnight is black
Where are the shining lights?
stars are smothered
behind industrial smog

Man's creations cover up life
Our crazed inventions
Try to tame Mother Nature,
Stealing a glimpse of her power,
Falling flat

Earthly soul
is hidden behind
our construction
Am I blind
Or am I lost?

Lost in moments shattered in time
Blind to the future we have set before us
we can no longer blame the one who's not here
it's All of Us

Part of the crowd with no faces
Senses are delivered and
our manufactured decorations
need no watering

Yet we do need to grease the wheel,
The gears of Mekanos, the Lord of Metal
must remained greased by the blood of Man,
from the children in the trenches,
to the lost soul in the gutter

Street lamps blink their shiny eyes
Painted buildings give no credence to the sky
Forests of car-parts and mercury rivers
Mechanical slaves do our bidding
giving us plastic when a simple rose will do

"a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,"
but this is something else,
and more than the name has changed
Metal, silk, plastic and perfume are a poor excuse
Man cannot mimic the glory of Mother Nature
As we try, the bodies are piled higher at the altar

Carried away by a river
of free-flowing bodies going the same direction
rushing past, the pavement flows with life
It's easy enough to get lost
Scurrying just like garbage-rats

Life and death get blurry near the edges,
When you're dead and gone, life moves on
Finality always leaves questions hanging in the balance
We gather together
To live and die together

This humid forest of brick and mortar
Is my home

I would not leave you for the world
Though the world waits
and moves on