Words of The Woods

(collab of Bliss and Prophet)


The smell of smoke and incense hangs in the air
as the Festival and Faire continues to go on
in the middle of the woods.
The Trader's Bazaar had
been present for the last 300 years,
and no one knew that the merchant elite
looked to own and corrupt those woods.

The trees here
Weep
In statures severe
The illusory
Paints in shades
Mostly blu
These smoke bubbles
Sadden the flora for they
Know their bretheren's
Sent a flame
Ashe round
The
Atmosphere
To blame

It is here that we came together,
in the oaks, in the grove,
"down in the valley so shady"
on hot summer nights, we'd fight for what is right,
and we thought the party'd Never end.
yet those nights fade away
with the folly of my youth,
and I know how much the fool I've been,
to let it all slip away,
and i kneel and pray,
and I just want to say,
I miss ya all, and I treasure dear
those days and nights in the valley of my youth

Sorting out the past reinoculating
Storms grow
tidal waves and funnel clouds
rip the landscape left bare
Partygoers getting loose
seeing Smoke Demons
way laced sugarcubes
in green liquids boiling
heads firing eyes
perceiving the whole endeavors
Fraught with fear
Beings intergalactic beaming

Then it becomes clear
This whole facade is a mirror
Reflecting times gone by

I'll take the high road, and you take the low road,
And I'll get to the end of the world before thee.
From our perspective at the Center of the Universe,
it was a Paradise, and nothing could ever go wrong.
This, my people, was our home, in The Forest of Black Oaks
Yet years before it had been gambled away
by a crooked bookkeeper with a drug addiction,
& For days, it had been kept alive on a hope and a prayer,
Children of the fey, renting it out year by year,
Environmental impacts our saving grace,
But then the Corporation came, one selling to another,
and without scruples, they fudged the law of the land,
And their twisted lawyers took over the town,
Speaking of Black Oak preservation
as a ruse to lay waste to our forest.
They saved 10 percent of the woods as a "preserve",
and the rest became developed as luxury housing
as symbols of power for the ruling elite,
and our valley, the home of all our wetland foul,
was ripped apart for their luxury golf course
Our once Grand Forest of Black Oaks,
Now the twisted club known as StoneTree

The twisted cancers
of their chemicals
have gripped my bretheren,
and we struggle to hold on.
Forever we roam as gypsy rovers,
We stare into that mirror,
never forgetting

Lives rejoice swimming divinity
Swings on tires hung on
The holiest of branches
Around glows ever-present
Omnipotent focus forces
Pull tightly bound eternal
Forest souls talk in clicks
The voices tumble transmit
Messages efficient grains
Bolted rhythms capped
Structures
Unifications transcendent
Mortared permanence
Visors shading eyes
From sunlight burning
Prominence patinas
Broiling illusions whole
The mantra tends to
Flowers growing in
Bed not coffers
Illuminated in pyramid
Shaped laser precision
Cutting cloth covered
Illuminating skies
Grown dark
Lighting shadows grown
Moldy
Our eyes perceiving the light
For the first time
Blinding the realities hurt
Turning pages
Soaked in tree tears
We are on the mend
Seeing truly an
Awareness almost
Daunting
We look forward
Walking with heads held high
Our eyes begin healing
Our consciences unilaterally
Uplifting hip cats all the same