Blue Moon Rising: Verse 23

Paint music with chords of amethyst. Play on red in violet tune. Pluck the strings of destiny. Every measure keeps beat in time with fate. Every song be short. Drum theme resonate: Fire long desire.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 22

The hard blue sky offers us no consolation, no respite from life, no cover from the winter sun, empty as it is of cloud, void as it is with cold; just vast spill of light and air, promise of the snow still yet to come.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 21

Fill your canvass full of color; make it huge with hue. Seat your vision there in high bright tones. Give it possession of place, immediacy of space; nothing of the minor or mean, but big in sunlight and delight.

Bkue Moon Rising: Verse 20

These crowds that walk the garden paths see nothing of the flowers blooming there, as they leave behind them broken blossoms of shattered dreams strewn along the ways of sightless yesterdays.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 19

Age, by a lessening of insight, by subtraction of mind, slow, subtle, subdued, surrounds each moment, makes contraction more tight, makes it more constricted still; a deafening of sight, a losing of the light.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 18

Downtown sun shines rude light on tarred roofs of the city; smog-spilling slanted brick-red dirty shade of grey-black, laid on asphalt street, laid on escapes of tenements; taunting shadow of danger at noon.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 17

Beneath wet white snow, bitumen black in sagging curve, branches of trees complain creaking weight. Impossible heaviness succumbs a bough. A confirmation shear break happens. A tearing away occurs.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 16

The tars of the past, laid down in the streets of shattered dreams, contained in their cauldrons of asphalt steaming in the cold, ready to be poured upon broken promises, on the gravel of regrets.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 15

Slanted moonlight, from that pale walker in night skies, falls upon a light sleeper. Inherent in his dream is its ending, flowing in a tight ribbon of yellow; as the sleeper, suddenly awake, is refreshed by dream.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 14

Decayed, the rust of this City of the Dead sears and disturbs.  It is a place of no future and no past; no hope, no memory. Nothing can live for long within this desiccation; for love, seek elsewhere than here.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 13

In the harsh knowing of the blue morning, waking from an unsettling dream, despairing again from the tragedy of living; for what we do and for what we do not, is not what we are and what we can never be.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 12

Not there yet. What wants are there unfulfilled? Are still not gratified? Left to be overcome? Becoming, that shaking span that's life, is but bridge to Being; an arch between what is and what we want to Be.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 11

Four of the clock in Manhattan, the Moon hasn't set as yet, this night still lingers on with you; why this, just this, would so moved my heart; would murder me with love I know not, that's just the way with it.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 10

It is the detours that made us men. Learning is not a straight path, never a broad highway. The byways teach. There is much knowledge in the dead ends. The possible is brought real by the labyrinth of Time.