Byline: Crystal Palaces of the Mind

Buford Youthward
stockcap@hotmail.com

The dark side, that backwash arrives on time.

Takes out hearts, lets loose results beyond control or category.

Those seemingly quick but suspended moments, narcotic-like but without appetite, begging for the continuum to take us out at the proper time. No core voodoo will allow inner angels to influence outer demons or any cultural transformation.

Double crossing concepts of success or failure, securing a future by denying it, taking off the training wheels of love if only for a minute, may your weekly wrestle with restlessness ease even for a bit.

Stoned in the sanctuary stumbling with suppressed suggestions simple kids in the most insincere manner misuse the muse's meanderings and misunderstandings. If your claim to fame is anything more than trying to live in a fantastic, fun, fast, frantic, bomb throwing, jump-online-and-blow-up kind of way then maybe I'd quit today.

But getting up in the morning means something, is something, does something through all the unwanted arrogance and attempts to find sounds that chip away at the mysteries of life. Keep at bay all third degree gloom peddlers and people who look like flowers and feel like strangers.

You should learn how to shovel before you start asking people to dig holes for you. Without balance or anchor and dealing with physical reactions to emotional information, it's amazing how we are aware but not mindful the magical, delicious ways of being without condition.

The informed know a thing or two about maturity, when all your mirrors turn into windows and when you realize what were once wild things aren't so wild anymore. Not like before when it was easy to jump in a van and head on tour.

In a land of magnificent desolation with a stark beauty all its own, a crystal palace of pure divine thought emerges from cities of the mind. The keepers of light bath in morning waves then open their books to absorb the high criticism of the moment. Today's truth is as simple as all truths tend to be.

All poetry should be judged by the ink it's printed with.

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