No Direction Home

NO DIRECTION HOME
Tangerine coats for the howling nights which bluff and bleed with a longing cold.
These days we reminisce of evergreen mountains growing ever so old.
Rainbow babies reflecting the blue eyed sea.
Bitter dead working men crying at the knees of the free.
You crawl your whole life to get to the very top.
Only to find itās as empty as a single rain drop.
Sadness of few, joy of many, the flames of dandelion choirs echo with thunder.
Radiant sunflowers erupt with a sunset wonder.
Through graffiti ridden alleys and trash can buildings.
Poets and vagabonds pass by skipping and singing.
A velvet winter poem for the sake of damnation.
In the blonde room of pure idolized fascination.
Still the sadness must come, striking your heart and numbing your tongue.
Though in darkness light must shine painting us as forever young.Ā
The times fall to misguided thoughts that bother you when you sleep.
Friends fade so well into a hazy memory that I just canāt keep.
Midnight streets of despair glimmer a shade of chrome.
Though with or without Iāll find no direction home.
When fate has you hooked to some star eyed girl.
When the skies walk side by side and the mountains curl.
This life is only a game you say.
Yet you still frown when April falls victim to may.
You talk of things that you donāt believe.
You philosophize the questioning core of grief.
You are what we all must be.
This love is the root, your lips are the tree.
I canāt move anymore your stare kills any traces of regret.
The start of my life begins the moment we met.
She winks a glittering smile that eases the pain and freezes the wild.
The world is her playground in which she is the child.
Keep a place for me when this psychic day is done.
And all of our heavenly dreams collide as one.
I canāt behold the emptiness of morning.
The beauty inside that sizzles the boring.
Iāll follow you to the ends of all thatās known.
Still youāll go your own way and leave me with no direction home.
Alone, again the world circles me with an electric epiphany.
Vibrating my clouds and turning my rain sunny.
Riding the thrill of mysterious feelings that bloom like a flower.
Hand me a pen and lend me a minute less hour.
The Kings and Queens will bow to the plastic bottle bums.
The struggling will ride out of their cracked window slums.
If you reach out your voice youāll transform these harbor lights.
Youāll stumble in pairs but youāll never forget these breathe taking sights.
In bars and clubs people drown their thoughts with a penny arcade dance.
On the top deck cafe the people look down at you with a Coney Island glance.Ā
In streets of fire people are bound to boast.
How they sparkle with things in which they own the most.
Busy crossroads of liquid colors poisoned with humankind.
No one cares yet they stumble to reach what they never find.
Where is the end?
Who really is my friend?
A madness surpassing the rumbles of the earth.
The senseless cries of the monks waiting for their next birth.
A cycle of waterfall riots polluting the elegant city.
Emasculated by the moans and turns of self-pity.
Mozart lingers in speakers static.
The secret in the light and the beauty of our Paris attic.
All these people torture me and ask if I want more.
Iāve grown tragically isolated in my dissolving Cellar door.Ā
The 3am girls fall delicately for the alcohol rain.
Traveling without stop from California to Maine.
Chandeliers of scorn hang the portrait of icons who mustnāt die.
The world frequently brings me to the brim of the cigarette sky.
Advertisements of your death play on and on.
And these haunting thought of tomorrow keep me up past the dawn.
In dented bathroom mirrors, I grazed the dirty magic comb.
Still I remain on the starlit street with no direction home.
Why must I go through these things twice.
The history of love and itās effortless tries.
This time I must purge myself.
I need to rid my soul of society and my material wealth.
Miles and miles to search for the answer within.
A happiness you left in an abandoned childhood grin.
Itās all the same, thereās no running away.
The moon still gleams and the sun still shines itās hallow ray.
Sad eyed lady set me free.
From the story book tales that wonāt let me be.
Submerged in a comet traveling at light speed.Ā
A million past lives all in desperate need.
The gates of eden engraved in the doors of perception.
Cleansing the fun you sold for her loving deception.
The angels of heaven happily lounge in hell.
Into the wild with a sanity that I freely chose to sell.
Who can destroy the life Iāve built, itās only me Iāve never gotten to known.
This life I lived was the curse of the seeds that I solely began to grow.
In these unpredictable days of torture and euphoria Iāll gladly continue to roam.
In the end we must stumble and fall to eventually find our true direction home.
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Comments
Brilliant write ??
Thank you so much!