The Blind Helper

Eerily back to the accession being made, concession of thoughts  

Eerily, eerily, perplexed to notions, the cosmos holds back, its secrets  

Determined not to spoil the surprise, with party popper's contest 
Wrapped in a dozen gift wraps"bulky", still silent about the pyramid  


If there is a God, "mist" myth of mystery, then it is his biggest task 

Forget your selfish daily prayers “God save me”  possessed by snob 


Picking out unwanted colors, resigned on M &M as requisite 
With preference, reference of selected gratitude, attitude  


Like aristocratic men, sat on the breaking back of  the camel 
Complaining of  the smell from fur, on journeys through the desert 


If not for the blindness of faith 
And the camel with thick skin and deaf ears; to nagging men 


"God save me" "God save me" "God save me" "why me" 
Oh, for the blind helper, and the patience weights he bears  

Grinch with crystal ball

A doubt is known to be more corrosive 
Than any t' weather, acid, water  
Salt, nature, can put in one's way  


And Philippe Petit feared nothing 
More than doubt. Oh, what he would 
Have done without, such thoughts 


To have doubt cynically with brush 
Invade thoughts when walking on ropes 
Across the twin towers that was 


Why set doubt in the minds of the young's "belief" 
And kill Santa Claus dead in his tracks 
Why begrudge utopia with curse not needed 


And tell the little one 
Santa is too fat to fit in a chimney  
And for that, Santa is not coming this year 


I often wonder, left to contemplate, a hint of anger  
What wrong was done to the fortune teller 
Who conveys nothing, but bad, bad news 


To say Santa will not come this year in "rumple" truth   
"I foresee, in my cards, in your palms 
In the crystal ball, I foresee"


I bequest t' King to ask for the banishments 
Of such false prophecy and doubt of the grinch  
I bequest t' king to demand, Christmas back 


For Santa Claus to come again, bearing gifts 
And put a big old smile on the face of the lovely 
Why set doubt in such "festive" spirit, grinch  


Why kill the spirit  with your corrosive doubt 
Under the Christmas tree on boxing day, darling 
Look close dear, for your wishes would come true 

Ascension On Foot

One with the heavens

Sky, stars, to form my stage

I will need no wings

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The Religion Of Hearts

Love is blind 
And lovers can not see 

How many colours does the heart possess 
How many emotions drawn from it's pockets  
Where shades of darkness do belong 


If religion is not to be understood 
What of the heart, in temples of worship 
Where love is religion, and it is religion 


And religion of the heart is worshipped
In the eyes of the faithful, love has to be blind  
A dozen prophecies are seen, in abstract


How many meanings can be of essence
Is it for the love or for the pain, 
It burns in vellicate on emotions drag 


For faith or prophecy 
Who holds crystal balls 
To be told of the future by the sightless oracle 


Which side of the heart, holds pain
Which side does hold love
Which side of the heart is set aside for hate 


A collage of the heart, seats like religious symbols
Sends out, tell tell signs of heat signal senses
Is this how I am to understand the heart 

In abstract essence, like religious stands
And faith is said to hold belief,  it has to 
That is all we are to go on by for love has to be blind