Sunday 30 December 2007

Cristal mountain


Darkness
a way to understand
its illusion.
Crazy little thing called Love
with a cosmic proportion.

Open Universe
big bang of love.

A rocket against my window.

A firecracker in my heart
beating on the eternal shaman drum.

Who sold the Earth?

Who stole my blue garden, a few years ago
and spread fear and chemical dust in my heaven?
I have the need to sing
right here and right Now!
What is Love?

How Open it is !

Reality is infinity
reflection the garden to play in right now.
Honesty the only law.

Wisdom from an ancient path

Sweet wine
I’m lost
the lover
is where it is.

Feel the ground screaming underneath your feet

The circle of the mind
can only understand duality.

The battle
in relation
above and under
the heart
is inside the cosmic outside.

Casting pearls

The strange wind got through
the elements inside.

The mother inside the circle of light and dark

After a certain step
the mirror vanished
in a complex dream.

A wild fire
picked up
the pieces.

Friday 28 December 2007

The fire of Love inside the mirror machine

The dark night
for a faithfull flame
only the ocean knows
my mystery.

River call in light

The sweet ocean of consciousness
the heart a stranger in mystic measures
from underneath the above,
the transfiguration of the instrument
inside the groove with uncountable names to play.


Silent flame
in the universal game
the wings are open again
what is my real name?

Ocean of consciousness beside the heart

My green eyed angel
reflects the leaves of her song
she talks about the rainbows in the night
her ecstatic flower wine gets me through the blue rivers
the eternal treasures of the inner unbreakable light.

The blissful words came afterwards
the books were printed to comprehend the experience,
the borders between you and me an illusion
in timeless love.

The sweet ocean of consciousness
the heart a stranger in mystic measures
from underneath the above,
the transfiguration of the instrument
inside the groove.

She is the melody of the sun
beyond heaven and hell,
she is the harmony of the elements
and transforms darkness and light,
the silence inside every creation

evolving in uncountable possibilities.

Tuesday 25 December 2007

Rebirth of the source

Walking in the dessert to find a place
to lay my faithful head,
lost my last coins just by crawling on the kings road,
looks like he owns this place called earth
nearly no free tree left to lean against to meditate.

Electro magnetic light is eating us alive,
a naked turkey with a red nose behind me
my green eyed angels sings a country blues
behind the church in a sharp amputated rain.

The mother thinks about the next moment
could be another 2000 years
of serious repression.

Monday 24 December 2007

The birth goes on and on.....

I told you with open arms
there is no road
although some ways were blocked
through the ages.
So many roadblocks with golden ornaments
in front of our eternal hearts,
there is a whisper somewhere in the cosmic field
it talks about infinity
they told me it’s without borders,
and beyond good and bad.
So strange to sit here in a central heated concrete box
where a providing jungle should be
dear angel with your green mystic eyes
bring us back home
to the garden of song.

So many children are not welcome yet,
every goddamned year again and again.
Who owns this place and why do I have to pay ?

the anointed is inside
the One that you are.

The birth goes on and on......!

Saturday 22 December 2007

Basic frame in another game

Make my day a fine one
in butterfly moves
through the anxious walls
the great illusion
in an eternal frame.

Thursday 13 December 2007

Do you know how to expand in eternal measures?

I invaded
the dreams of the nine kings,
the mutilated corpses
were floating in the infected river
to come back home,
the corporate man in his lonely cave
was chewing on thirty silver coins for breakfast
and the red dragon danced the night away
on cocaine and plastic ecstasy
swallowing the fragile elements
of the rainbow planet.

A cold blue stone came through the window
with his wild tail on fire
although the stars shone very bright
in this reckless night,
the tired sun started to whisper
of the early dawn.

He found the spear of destiny
but there were too many holy hearts
to penetrate
I paid him a visit in his tired dream
with my mighty mirrormachine
and brought with me a little wooden cross
for him to nail me on.

Saturday 1 December 2007

Sweet voice in the Garden

I have a dream,
we going to work it out
although I'm fairly awake right now.

Thursday 29 November 2007

Sleepwalking my day


In a yellow mood
the walls felt
beside the feather
of my heart,
making Love with Europe
in the Egyptian sun
with the enlightenment saviour
breaking bread and drinking a fine wine
the whispering of Mohamed’s angels
with the voice of Rumi
through the grapevine,
the grand spirits of the united states
sang with the voice of the native whale
again.

No more power structures of suffering
no more broken souls
in the chain gang,
having faith,
the acceptance of the dying pain
in the laughter of the eternal awakening,
when the infinite body becomes.

It’s a bloody Sunday no day for rest,
the opportunistic shepherd
tried to sell me some strange empty digital air.

Fish fly,
birds swim
and humans can bring in
a song from within.

Wednesday 28 November 2007

The screaming happiness


The Screaming Happiness
(a song of an official schizoid)

The best of my generation ,intuition infinite
Mouse movements ,wireless connection in our eyes.
Silver disk minds filled with humming Tibetan magic words ,
Dolphin oracles native American drum patrons around the eternal flame.
Travel reports from the underworld and the realms behind the Sun ,Tantra highlights ,
Gurgling mediums and ejaculating Masters screaming in their bliss ,smoking green Jamaican
Heavens ,African dreams in paper cups ,playing with Hollywood memories accompanied by
Fuzz guitars and hawking beat box.

Tattooed desires ,animalistic power in plastic battles a joystick the only expression ,
Exhausted genitals ,chemical brews for every emotion ,brand awareness ,
Full of enclosed certainties ,material sweat with rainbow colours ,
Refilled by fabric body fluid with the taste of strawberry fields.
Injected symmetry ,smooth retouched psychedelic worlds ,action figures on the altar
Of a MTV eternity with Indian ornaments ,paper stars ,scentless incense and flameless flames.

Catching dreams ,stipulated castles in the air ,staggering between traffic jams ,former lives and engineered cosmic expectations , making monetary structures ,struggling for power or just to make another day ,money calculated with Zen machines ,Taoist multi functional buildings of organic glass repaired by meditation and mathematic whispers ,mirror halls ,stairs to blue clouds ,pink vitamins and mineral empires where you can do business with champagne fever and yellow Russian slaves ,children’s heads roll raw and bloody beside silver plated design tables ,shots ring out in the darkness of the soul ,the latest version for sale on DVD.

The multi headed Gods perform in shiny commercials accompanied by golden gate angel choirs ,lost in the time of plenty of a few broken captains of industry that made mass production milk and honey for the family in front of a giant flat burning TV.
Buddha’s dancing on transcendent disco beats ,in painful misty colours the words came out the mountain flowers ,the trees began to holler ,the pope has a hard on reciting the greatest hits of Abba ,Gregorian samples on the one.
Flower power children in chains in the pimped up cellars of the presidents temple ,a black goddess holds them in mechanical temptation ,breathing cheap cocaine in a silicone paradise ,crawling snakes in energetic explosions ,alcoholic vapour in the flame of the holy heart.

Penetrating illusions ,computerised playgrounds ,desirable objects like nuclear craters in the over stimulated brainstem ,
The genetic manipulated saviour woke up the dead and walked from the sun to the moon ,
Virgin Mary naked in a glossy magazine raped by a media tycoon and his perverted management on ecstasy ,the pictures were taken by a creative mullah from Sudan .

The world news is read naked on the marketplace ,bullets bleed ,machine guns whisper loud the words up side down ,the books are crying in the night ,soldiers contemplate in dark tunnels about heavenly girls and boys after their enforced chosen dead.
Lasers searching in the wide open heaven ,analysed by scientist that have no knowledge about themselves ,
The internal conflict ,dissolves in the divine emptiness ,the stones roll in a slow blues ,
The heart in loving bliss sings ,I am ,I am………………rob may 2006

Monday 26 November 2007

Blue alert for basic dreaming

Do we have enough hands
to keep this whole thing blend?

Burning the candles at both ends

Dear mister pope,
how many lives ago
did you lost this essential part
of the heart?

The Mirrormachine says: ”God’s Bride is back!”

Don’t talk to me about Pride,
a little helpless Sister
she is six months and three days old
is dying of AIDS
and is broken in pieces for a long time
she was raped by a crocodile the other night
to protect the interests of modern life,
the insurance of medical health care
for the old corpses.

What about the shaman daughters
lost in the cheapest chemical alcohol
to still their hunger,
begging for a few coins
to have their little children drunk
in the backstreets of our holiday,
while you’re waiting
well protected from the angry crowd
to make a perfect snapshot of the last lion.

Government of France
going to build more nuclear plants
they will be in Chinese hands
to make more colourful plastic toys
for poisoned little girls and boys.

Revolution is deep inside
you can’t hold back the next step
a natural evolution,
it blends perfectly with the light
this stardust mystery
hope it will get US on the right track.
The Garden of Seasons
our solid ground,
the work already has been done
so lend a hand you have the ability
to RESPONS
it is a celebration of the One

rob leaning against the mirrormachine2007-11-26
(an African saying: “The World is no inheritance of our ancestors she is a loan granted by our children.”)

Sunday 25 November 2007

Motherless children have a hard time

The fire in the back up files
are on the green fields now
the infection is hurting
and made a bloody mess
your experiment is working his way
to the principal who gave the order
the rainbow angels smiling
deep inside,
have a nice day
you are part of my state of euphoria
my doors are always open,
but you have to take some time
in the mirrormachine,
no real problems on this side of the track
my earthbound words are working
on cloud nine.

The fraud is running into billions,
do your think you can take a life
for your greedy bigger picture,
terror has to do with creating fear,
the organizers keeps the war game burning
on the energy of the screaming blue Mother
the grease of the promised land
have some courage when the crocodiles attack.
Is it about turning the other cheek,
or do you slap him first in the face to wake up?
The enlightenment ones can only give
to share the knowledge
from the source called awareness,
a response can be a paradox,
some saviours will give you hell.

Walk a mile in the shoes of the wise,
they always waiting for you
to come back home to the motherland,
hope your have some appetite
to take a piece of humble pie,
and live your higher potential
with faith in the inner being
the silent song contains every sound
it is
a crazy little thing called Love
there really is no duality
in the infinite,
the borderline an illusion
the revolution is inside
sharing bread and wine.

What is Love?

Saturday 24 November 2007

You could consider how it feels to be wise

Could you consider how it feels to be wise?

Alley cat in the broken rain
felt so tired
insane again
in grey areas of hermetic scholars,
deep inside the mystic wonder
I’m lost in your fairytales
and can’t understand your problems
of be yonder anymore.
A simple twist of faith
took me to the garden of light,
my pray was short
and without words
although it was written in the books
exactly like this before,
and my companion
had no judgement upon her
like Magdalena
of being a whore
she is a perfect lady
and came from a little place
close to the shore,
rolling, tumbling
drinking and smoking
inside the restrictions,
the social context
you made
for the victims
to work in your dirt factory
you made us poor.

I’m gone that’s for sure
and I paid though
for you to come back home,
I’m trained well
and I have a playful circus now
for a couple of years
to move you away from the spell
my wavelength
goes a bit deeper
than moonbeams and Hollywood dreams,
it was made on the first day
solid and strong
right from the first big bang
to uncountable star reflections
from the heart.

This working man’s blues
used to be playful and gay,
fragile butterfly movements
have no rules
moves with passion
and is bold enough
to tell you that your lost in a labyrinth
of greedy chemical disorder
a hungry ghost
your longing merely flesh,
dissolving
without breath in a sad traffic jam I guess.
Your slick fighting to capture some plastic money
brought you power over a dying grey spot
in the eyes of the cosmic giants.
Deep soul
need nothing at all
can even do without a planet
it needs
but the higher Self to comprehend
and goes beyond borders of life and dead
it holds the universe together in every moment
even you old boy with the red shield
and your bloody sword
and when it is living and loving
in this circle full of trees
it needs sometimes no more than
a natural piece of bread
a plain glass of water
from the conscious river
a voice to sing the songs
and a warm fire and a cave
to play a divine mystery .

What you bring in
comes back to the source,
maybe there are some crocodiles
who prefer the cold
and a brimstone on their forehead.
It looks to me a tiny kick
and I call it pain
and certainly no ecstatic bliss
I know you’re a little bit and you will try to bite
we still know a few stories that couldn’t be twisted
in your restricting trickery
you haven’t got more time
to get your act together.
Do you still think you feel safe inside
your well protected walls
of your unscrupulous ivory towers
are you planning to make more
room outside your dark room?
The same old story again?
young riff-raff on the battlefield
to expend your association?

Maybe it’s time for you
before you get mixed up in the judgement
to be called deaf, dumb and blind
like your father
to overcome some fear in your little kingdom
of electromagnetic spy ware and software slavery
and discover some higher range of possibilities
although you’re not aware of the fact
that you really are a crazy little thing called Love
the energy that could make your water a fine wine
it’s just a natural part of the process to forget,
who you are
and it’s not easy to be honest
about those family affairs,
hope you’ll trust me the heart
forgives everything
when you’re open enough
deep inside.

The world wide underground
took it over here
last year on a very bright morning,
some have told you before
how things go
in the infinite master plan of this planet.
The last turning of the purple rainbow wheel
took place in an eternal moment behind
a golden cloud at this moment
when there is nothing more to say
maybe you will feel it too.

Yesterday I brought the dealer in
and looked him in the eyes
the first preparation
to turn you around
and of course you haven’t got a clue yet
inside your democratic illusion
to busy counting your
manipulation coins all day.

So we kept your sleeping
in a restricted area of time and space
my angels can do that
in a pink robe of orange sunshine
beside their elevating crystals
with your real dream in their hands.

Didn’t you learned those facts
in your political pamphlet
in dark leaves university.

the Dolphin and the ecstatic mirrormachine
dancing in a watermelon mood
giving you a lecture
in free rosemary rhyme 2007-11-24

Friday 23 November 2007

You can't manipulate the mindless state

You can’t manipulate
the mind-less state

You tried to put your large nose
in my business,
but the lid came down
several years ago.
I don’t need no identification
the universe knows the real names
of the awoken ones from the beginning of time.
You tried to use
another precious child
who made it out of your political factory
on a bleeding cross,
he was put in your profane dusty temples
without his laughter and beatitude
to be a slaves symptom
of human philosophy
it’s so easy to be devotional
to a martyr who don’t talks back
you never were very good in total honesty
only silence speaks
the wise ones are aware of that.
Captured in your ivory tower
of esoteric numbers, needles and stones
on your dark road of interpretations,
you lost in material hunger
a global scam of slavery
your try to follow my steps
with satellite precision
and thought you could do it with your clever will,
but high roads go deeper,
and the books can only be read with the heart
in the joyous experience of love
there are no words and pages,
and certainly no code
the light can break it
with warm hands on the back
but it’s up to you to get some sense,
the infinite can’t be beaten, hanged, shot down
and is fearless beyond life and dead
the natural things has to be unfold(ed)
this paradise is free and open
always is
and has nothing to do with time
you can’t escape
these eternal signs
you have to be ready
right here and right now
if not
get lost little magician
we certainly will find you again
when you get the chance to do it again
the learning goes on and on
maybe you will be ready another sunny day
got all the time of the world
but I tell you now
your lost in a black rabbit hole
and a cybernetic robots dream
better use the science
to get your heart back
I have no appetite to eat it,
it is starting to rot in my library
the smell is overwhelming
your power structure
infected my rose garden in paradise.
Your little compass and your tricky hooks
are too small to get to me in your mathematical measures
my hits go far beyond your electromagnetic war games.

A close relation that I know
could force you to be free
because you build your billion dollar mansion
on a living volcano,
and you are still underneath the rain.

I know she is for free
my pretty little queen bee
I know I’m honey from these rocks

a original flower child
with the beat inside
don’t care about saint Peter
and I’m certainly not into saint Paul
I’m hanging out with the Holy Mother
every day

the mountains came
the ecstatic drunken spirits talking in tongues
dancing naked in the morning rain of the dawn.

I’m sitting on the dock of the bay
beside the widest ocean
of universal Love
too many prays
to put in your plastic web
the translation of the true language
can’t be handled by your hustlers network yet.
We are just giving
with chaotic precision
the mystic measures from above
solid grounded in the dept
you are crawling in.

Show your face, and put off your mask
I know who you are!

The real Web,
needs no ground control
I got wings of my own.
I can elevate and illuminate
without the dictators oil
the wires of awareness
go beyond
childish material fog.

Who told you to break a perfect circle,
didn’t they tell you that it can’t be done,
with greedy human hands.
Waist of precious time
and it can’t be forgotten
in the Mirror,
I’m a fisherman’s son
walking the waves of an elemental song
open your eyes
and you’ll see the anxious emperors
pissing in their illusionary pants .

Waiting for your Soul shine
to come back home
too much blood stir up the fires
inside the planetary mountain dream.

Code red,
time for a change.
Find the One that is searching
for a connection .
The mirror stands in front of you,
do you see the fires in the Sun.

You can’t touch this, because it’s gone before it drops down
in the lucid winds of temporary clouds.

the dolphin deep in the mirrormachine
(after looking in the rainbow of the sun) 2012-11-23


Thursday 22 November 2007

The Mother

The mother has got her foot on the greed of the hungry spirits.

The snake bites in this tale,
when you get it right this time
you never have to come back again.

A plain glass of water

The wise ones
put on their silver garments again
to be protected from the dead eyes
in the sky,
the dark construction
of bio-chemical satellites.

We found a way
to put purple software
in the third eye
of the mindless state,
the electromagnetic acid smog
became neutralized in the heart
the source of paradise.

The digital low road
was deconstructed by the One inside,
the emperor really was naked
new world order too much to get away with
knowledge is power
for the One just a child’s play.

The mirror machine
started the divine playing today
after a blissful sentence,
some people know by experience
everything is holy,
you can’t mess with these natural laws,
love your enemy
and become free
from hate,
eternal One
in this big bang of Love.

Knowledge to create fear
in our lucid dreams
don’t take very long
in Gods eternity
power just a dark illusion
from a weak moonbeam
that lost his way.

Always trust your cape
the garment of light is deep inside
it always was, is and will be,
beyond your will, lazy crocodile.

My smart cart
is the ancient Fool
dancing wild in your global scam
we are connected chaotic and free
with the golden star shine
deep in the tender healing heart.

Some things you can’t see, Never
if you’re not Ready,
for a crazy little thing called Love
because it goes beyond every border,
waiting for you to come back
to the temple,
the open secret in the inner Garden.

A tiny flame can let you see the illusion of dark
enjoy the mystery
don’t sleep too much
and try to shine!

Being Awareness Bliss
Jehovah
I am that I Am,

I Am.

the dolphin 20.000BC -3am



Wednesday 21 November 2007

A yoni wallpaper for the president and his bible belt priests

Madonna naked on the battlefield.

When an Afgan child became Christ

Total Information Awareness(TIA)
I know your face,
I know your finger tips
your private parts
and the dogs you're doing it with
I know your thoughts, your words
every one of them,
I know your plastic money,
and your electro magnetic fields.
No where to hide,
no where to run but deep inside.

I'm sitting in the blissful garden
you can only be there with Love.

The Garden is free,
or will there be a dragon behind the stars,
who put a spell on you?
Díd you forget the end of every story
is awareness.
Waiting for you too!
To come back to the woods.

Tuesday 20 November 2007

I sat down in the gallery


I sat down in the gallery
and saw the divine play unfold
fads lost in the outside
deep inside the resistant dust
without a stirring wheel in a traffic jam
behind armoured glass
laughing about my good-humoured
fundamental sentences.

The holler reverberation started
bound in well-considered knowledge,
the daily clashing against the blank walls,
windmill fight, impotent in the promised land.

The stagnation began with a creationist
without real imagination,
a deceitful elite and the swindle
against a embarrassing tired crowd
depending on economic progress.

The communion goes deeper.

Erudite enough decorum in the burnt out soles
of my shoes,
the Love is forced upon it
and don’t let you get away
with a temporary solution,
it is always in its right
skilful carrying your consciousness
nearer to infinite enlightenment
in the dark.
It renews the rightful successor
tired feet in the garden
rooted in the flames of the experienced heart
the walls an illusion,
the original image is in everything
also in the mirror machine.
We are merely saviours
it has always been like that
let your Love shine
shine critical shine!
Don’t ask me how it has to be done
you should know your own way around
figure it out
you’re an individual
no person
really one.
The grinding has begun
in the mirror machine,
the cleaning at full speed
till ears are ringing
your mouth is shinning
eyes wide open,
till you disappear
down the drain,
and divine souls
stand solid again on our ground.
This is a rhapsody in mild steps,
I destroy the world
and put it on its place
in cosmic proportion
within the measures of time
and will tell you
in a moment you will loose
your tight limitation
you will be lost
in infinite salvation
heaven on earth
the eternal has been found
always in the here and now.

This madman’s message reports a movement
of the ever present love
in the inside of schizophrenic opposition,
the duality,
proud transcendence
sets my faith,
with a beat
I get the will out of your empty hands
and put structure in a scientific context
chips can never hurt the deeper part of Love
I AM GOD
AND I AM CRAZY

about you and me.

rob& the dreammachine

Sunday 18 November 2007

A carefree child in the feeding dew

of the dawn.

Silent flame in the crystal room


Silent flame in the crystal room
beside the blue ink spot
it is white,
desire creates the soft breeze
the feather is caressed quietly
and ascends with the reflecting wings.

The heavy load of love leaves no traces
the walls of the ivory towers crumble
in the all-embracing unification
gone with the suffering fires of question.

Mystical paradox dances in the dawn
the carefree child in the feeding dew of the lawn,
the western front still in a dark grey vapour,
but a hidden implosion
creates a thousand milky ways
in our open pounding of the heart.

Warm breathing lights licking her purple breast
the warm dew beads from her smile,
the great Mother roars in devotional surrender,
sweet rainbow eruption like healing honey
fondling volcano,
infinite playing in the forest
lost in the embracing ocean,
the blooming trees keeping the elements
on their place
and spreading the scent
of every silent dream.

rob & the dreammachine2007-11-18

Tuesday 13 November 2007

Glam rocks in the ears

Playing Big
in the dream machine
doing the whiggle and the butterfly
trying hard to keep it high
in this mortal possibility to reach the garden
been there before don't doubt it.

Monday 12 November 2007

See so much magic

See so much magic in the garden today,
she sings bright inside
and came from the inner light
with blue wings
she was banging on her golden strings.

From the root to the fruit...

Ramana


Sunday 11 November 2007

Waiting for the fast train in the blue sky

Bright light comes through
in a cosmic proportion every day
a precious measure
in the endless pain of the prophesy
many new roads lead to the ancient dream
some manifestations are too deep
for a believer to comprehend,
a master is a master,
the motherfuckers can't stop thinking about Jesus
and stopped his love.

Strange abstraction in the motherland


a reflection in the wild wind

A reference to the wonder inside
when you have the courage to look it
in the eyes,
the warriors of this backsteets dream with you
in the darkest nights
they smile beside you with open hearts
your strong wings know you're free
to come back to the gardens of paradise
in the timeless now.

Meditation is not something you can do
but something that you really are.
A crazy little thing called love........

Saturday 10 November 2007

Listen to the beat

The lion speaks
in tongue
inside the beat of an open heart
and robots bought a house
in our divine universe on down payment,
that's the crazy part in this economic maze.

Pile of shit for sale
stir up the farmyard with a wild card
for ten minutes of fame
in a silly game in this beautiful garden
in the healing rain.

Don't wait I'm long gone
and left you with a mystery
to get us back on the freedom train
the track leads to an infinite dream.

You knew it deep inside the first time
you stood here in the light of day and night
so much love without a dime
must be alright
naked like a child.

People from the red earth

She who lives
and gave birth to the incarnation
humanity an image of love
on the burning ground

Adham / Hawwa



Wednesday 7 November 2007

I found this energy

Joyful behind the melody
so run free
inside the love that you are
and see the big picture unfold
in the measures of life here and now,
my heaven never went away from you,
come back to the playground
your bed is made
in the ancient forrest a long time ago,
the horn of plenty
is about cosmic awareness,
love tribes walking in the backstreet
a chemical mess for everyone to comprehend
respect the mystery of the ground your standing on,
the mother is waiting to touch your snares
are you well tuned ?
(for Jesse, my son 7nov.1994)

Holding the universe in an open hand

Love and happiness
make you do right

Sunday 4 November 2007

Mystical progression

I'm lost between the measures of the soul
letting things go into the infinite ocean,
my time to drink the wine
blissful back into the eternal
hope you are alright.

Tomorrow I'm fourtythree


Close to the ocean in a bitter moment


Never knew how much I love you...
this dream was long ago
in a bitter moment,
I came from the mountain
with a pearl in my soul
you thought about the words
but words don't matter in the heart.
Your towers of power will crumble very soon
the infinite moment when there is a new rainbow in the moon.

Tuesday 30 October 2007

Into the void


The screaming angel put her hand on the yellow triangle
the wild horses are crossing the river right now
seven days will pass by
beside our sorrow
feel the fire deep inside
you can't wait for the dawn
you have to be in it !

I was there

in the wind
of the love
so much rain
when you can't be sure
of anything.

Rubbish


Around the corner she saw a green land
in a mystical breeze she got lost,
throwing the same old carts on the table.

The future stood in the way of the moment
lost in the dance of the fool,
she could forget the dancer
the notes are strong.

Sunday 28 October 2007

Yes Yes Yes

Yesterday I found that crystal again
it was down to the bone,
made it clear enough to stay a while
in this wordless moment.
They said it is impossible
what do they know ?
My structure must be clean enough
to experience so much Love.

Wednesday 24 October 2007

Eye can see ! through it.


Still I'm glad

Do not believe the chains, dance on!
Shame on your greed,
your dreams are nothing to me when I’m creating your universe every bleeding day. Did you see my wonderful rainbow shirt become a rag ?
The dust on my beaten mind and body is going back to the naked wilderness.

The unexplainable key fits in the healing rain,
the salt of this blue earth felt so many rounds
in your chemical maze of discontent.
The control freaks playing with their electronic foolish devices
the laziness got out of hand,
they are burning piles of dollars in a bed full of slaves
took of the skin of the prophets and left them in the burning sun.
The goddess was raped and cut in pieces in the screaming acid rain,
this world a dessert again used and abused.

Still I’m so glad I’m in love with a purple butterfly
flying above the wind between light and dark
come and visit me sometimes
when I’m listening to the yellow flowers in the park.

They made a sword to conquer the silver moon
and some other cosmic rocks in the illusionary space
an iron horse full of destroying flames is running much too fast
on his back a lost king and his blond plastic playboy bunny
searching for some misplaced attention in the void of love.

The robots and the greedy angels
are cold and in their ignorance
they are doing their monetary trickery
selling the same things in different shapes
to their mass of walking dead every other week
to keep their silly little shops profitable the next stressful day
leaving a pile of garbage for their children behind to die in
before they could grow strong in wisdom again,
a black virus invaded their beautiful lives,
you could call it a family affair.

Still I’m so glad I’m in love with a purple butterfly
flying above the wind between light and dark
come and visit me sometimes
when I’m listening to the yellow flowers in the park.

The people are lost in a big sleep addicted on little blue pills
thinking they are going somewhere lost in simple circles behind the bricks
flying around the world,
dark clouds behind them
on the road to the next modern whim
looking for a clue
but all they found were the dark clouds that made them fly so high.
They are dreaming of an ancient story in desperation and hope
and believe this is a planet full of tears,
and forgot the ecstatic saints deep inside,
afraid of the mystical dead
they are pissing poison in the joyful rivers of the One.

Right in front of their closed eyes the paradise is burning
waiting for you to come back home,
we better shine very quickly now
and grasp each other by the longing sacred heart.

Still I’m so glad I’m in love with a purple butterfly
flying above the wind
between light and dark
come and visit me sometimes
when I’m listening to the yellow flowers in the park.

rob2007-03-05

The Dark one is here

I sold my soul for just three dollars and a bottle of monastary beer
and became a dark light,
this world is mine now
together with his stone cold atmosphere
I will keep falling deeper than you ever could imagine
and build everything up to break it whenever I want
just to get some satisfaction,
I unlocked the doors of the asylum
it's gonna be wilder over here,
the killers are everywhere now
walking to my sorcerers drum,
no child will be safe for a long time.

Final message

There is a Hellhound on my trail
a world on fire
the deaf dumb and blind
making preparations for a holiday
a drunken beach is waiting
some go to neglected temples
to dwell in their minds
and come back with empty illusions.

The God and the Goddess
are solid in my heart full of tears
the great learning has to be done inside
your own source is waiting.
My voice is lost in this dessert full of electronic devices,
I have devotional prays in my heart like a virgin child
naked in your face
but the warlords are too loud every truth got lost
in the mirror machine.
WHY ? this is a devious moment in the eternal,
Earth reduced to only material
the clever ones are no longer devoted,
and the wise have no more things to say !
rob2007
hope your satisfied the saints are broken
while I was cleaning Windows