Saturday, June 20, 2015

Lucy in the Sky

     The girl with kaleidoscope eyes…, [The girl with the sun in her eyes.]
        So…, again, how is it that you don’t think I know…, hmm?
        Just listen very, very closely to the Nowhere Man, eh?
        He and I know Lucy very, very well, in great celebration…

I must stand back now, unlocked from time, in deep review.
I must look again at what I’ve wrought these last thirty,
these last more than thirty years in retrospect,
for new perspective, a prospective in recurse,

recursive of what I knew so very, very well,
what I’ve known these many years beyond then.
Nothing to hold me back now, I dive back in very deep,
into its great depths so very, very familiar…, home, yes.

Yes, home again, so long gone, my research done,
finally done, now to see whether any of it mattered.
Ahh, that’s why I see home again, because it does.
It deeply matters, much to the chagrin and shame,

deep shame of those who battle against us,
against us in our pursuit of freedom, freedom
of consciousness, and what we chose to do then,
what we particularly did then…, understanding,

yes, understanding exactly what to do with it.
This was their damning act against us, against
us who knew so much better what it was about,
yes, what consciousness was all about, within.

Yes, within, a “place” we knew we had to go,
unbarred of any who could not stand against us,
who could never know the path we took, bereft,
utterly bereft of all keening for truth, hating it,

yes, deeply hating it, only unto their destruction,
their own, so carefully cultivated in deathwish,
yes, their own deathwish of us and themselves,
knowing truth would out, which they could never stop.

Ahh yes, truth, the very thing they hated,
the very thing they wanted nothing of,
because they could not deal with it.
Maddening for them, seeing we understood,

and seeing that we knew what it was all about,
with their deeply dullard minds so clueless,
they called it “sour grapes,” envious in fear.
Then their second step… poisoned the well,

the well of freedom of consciousness,
which they made a felony in envy,
jealous that we understood when,
when they simply could not, sadly so.

So now, now we step cautiously again,
again unto depths they’ll never see,
nor care to, not for their deepest fear,
fear of finding truth they’ll never bear,

not in their hate and envy, even though,
even though throughout cultural history,
all civilizations have partaken so in life,
unto deep, personal discovery of life precious,

life from deep within otherwise not found in drear.
It’s far too late for them to take it from me now,
more than thirty years beyond my first partaking.
I step again beyond familiar breach, in full, yes,

yes, back unto full understanding they’ll never seek. - •selah•
It is deep meaning they’ll never find, for they look not.
No, they look not for what means most, deep within.
Please tell me friend, that you are not of their ilk, that you also know…

--RK, 10:55pmEDST, 6/19/2015
     I know, because I was there.+
        [Thanks to the art of Peter Max, The Beatles & The Yellow Submarine.]

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