Kaballah Freight Train
Originally published @ The Plebian Rag, July 11, 2009.
I’ve been living in the strangest kinds of places
I’ve been walking the most crooked paths of all
No control
I’ve been shattered, I’ve been scarred
I’ve been wounded, I had no heart
And I’ve been told that you’ve been all so very good
Like you should
I’ve been treated like a hobo
And all the dreams that I’ve been robbed off
Are still strong and the wind sings my songs
Yet not too long
With a divine help or not
With no money with no luck
I got on Kaballah Freight Train
Tonight
I’ve been searching for some love
At the bottom of the bottle
I’ve been searching for my friends not in the faces
That I ought to
I’ve been tortured, I’ve been scared
You speak of hate – I’ve had my share
And now I’m sure it sleeps deep in your souls
I’ve been treated like a madman
You speak of friends – I thought I had them
But they gave me only jealousy and guilt
A perfect deal
With a divine help or not
With no money with no luck
I got on Kaballah Freight Train
Tonight
Me and you – different things
You won’t live in the shadow of my wings
No, I won’t surely live in your bog
Your pit of gall and your god knows what
Your honey tongue was a poisonous tongue
I should’ve known but I’ve been waiting too long
I’ve been down but now I stand to rise
No surprise
I’ve seen folks like you in tons
I’m not impressed, you just leave me alone
Take your illness somewhere else
Leave my world, it’s not your place
With a divine help or not
With no money with no luck
Mine is this Kaballah Freight Train
Tonight
Burn the bridges – it’s not like that
There were none and that’s a fact
You thought there were and that you knew me well
You thought I wasn’t more than you could tell
Time to see, time to know
You friends out there, devoid of soul
That you will never mock my verse
My vision well
I’ve seen things you’ve never seen
I’ve heard the thrust of the great machine
I’ve walked inside the hidden moons
I’ve drunk the stars with a bromine spoon
You were a joke
You will always be like that
You’ll never change
Again a fact
Watch me ride that special train
Tonight
I’m too tired to even talk
I’ve just returned from my full moon walk
I’ve passed all those funny graves
Of all the masters and all their slaves
And on each grave I’ve left my mark
A small red nine to please the stark
And tell’em all to pray for me
While I still dance
I could swear I heard them laugh
I heard them count my every breath
I talked with them on distant times
On faded memories on bitter wines
And on each glass they’ve left a smile
They’ve left a ticket for me to ride
And they’re with me on that special train
Tonight
With a divine help or not
With no money with no luck
I got on Kaballah Freight Train
Tonight
My Rebirth (American Wings)
Originally published @ Callused Hands, January 30, 2010.
Drifting without measure
No point of return
Drifting
Slowly
Only to burn
Passing prisons
And nurseries of mind
Leaving cinders
Only to find
That it’s my rebirth
The American wings
That shine
And it’s my rebirth
The American wings
Sublime
I’ve seen it before
I’ve been one of you
The chains of control
The carnival fool
Falling through the theater
Watching the dogs
Applauding
Softly
Pleasing the gods
Finding lanterns
And houses of crime
Bathe in ashes
Of lovers divine
Lost in my rebirth
The American wings
That shine
Yeah it’s my rebirth
The American wings
Sublime
Wasted, traceless
Merged with the rain
River calling
My secret names
Lifetimes written
In solitaire blue
Rotten eagles
Feast on the truth
And it’s my rebirth
The American wings
Of fools
Yeah it’s my rebirth
The American wings
Of fools
I’ve seen it before
I’ve been one of you
The idol obscene
The carnival fool
Navel of the Universe
Written in 2001, originally published @ The Cosmos Review, Fall Issue 2008.
God had awaken in the flower of stars
Smooth surface of our rustling cars
Orphans of the evening stroking sphinx in the sun
Fleecy slow hours devour all the guns
Nickel lacking people within iron baths
Obscured creator hides within his paths
Religion of love is superannuated
Moonlight shimmers with the stars all pure
Strange giant eyes peek down from a hole
Orion’s belt is your magic lilac cure
Space liquidizer contains all the fruit
Frivolous gods drink the liquid of fools
Iron rivers hit the smooth steel shore
Meek still trees gliding and glimmering
Globes of the universe – eternal game fields
The Pyramids & Lion on a seashore land
Million years ago covered with the sand
Where once the land was soft and green – now it is gone
As our world keeps turning in the rays of our sun
Within countless stars in our universe
And in other universes stars shine as well
Unicorns and fairies may not be children stories
Look up to the skies and see ether flower worried
Elliptical ways with the embers of creation
Daffodils in the bud of all known powers
Embrace the stone within soft heavy hours…
Owls and Giants
From “Saint Of Kreuzberg”, Erbacce Press, 2010.
Film noir, a silent setting
Havana and cockade
Distant airplanes, midget crew
Incoherent steps
Prozac and Jack
Late night new arrival
Pun acrobat
Jogging with his Bible
Bulletproof heart
Sluggish piece of meat
Skyproof hands
Pretty like a priest
Buspirone and Vodka
Early morning bum
Rover poet stranded
Liaison for one
Owls and giants together in the night
Clouds and ghosts of lovers
Traveling the exploited sodden sky
Hallways of birds, eternal
Pavilions of moon
Chinese poetry scatters the trees
Cirrus beauty obscure
Trazodone and wine
Angel hair alarm
Camel’s eye on top
Mother Mary dust
Owls and giants together in the night
Clouds and ghosts of lovers
Traveling the exploited sodden sky
Patricia (Gypsy Caravan Rollin’)
From “Pilgrims & Indians”, Deadbeat Press, 2008.
I met her in Autumn
Though I’ve seen her before
In one kind of life or another
I believe she’s my twin
Though we don’t know it by now
And she still judges a book by its cover
So please have a look
As I’m standing before you
And I’m begging of you for an audition
In dreams I’ve heard voices
Of many-a-gal
But they all whispered one name – Patricia
I fell for her quickly
Till winter grew on
Then I thought that she might not be willing
But one look in those eyes
Those reflections of sky
With the diamond-stars shining bright and no ceilings
So don’t turn away
As I’m trying to know you
I believe in my heart’s intuition
And it tells me since Autumn, keeps telling me now
There’s just one gal for you – Patricia
Like a stoned Gypsy wanderer
I follow her roads
And I follow some light that I hope guides me
And the gods of the old times
At the gates of Babylon
Tell me, son of ours, follow her, cause now you’re blinded
So don’t lay your head
Where the killings are done
On your soul winged from the start of your wishes
Just walk out of this and leave all that’s his
Come here where’s your place – Patricia
And the caravan stood still
As the bard he did play
On his strings for the same unchanging goddess
Through ages of stars and through faces so different
Just one and only spirit wanders
And it crosses those borders
So many-a-time
And it howls in the wind, ruins cities
Like a blossoming thunder, and tombstones not plundered
And stories of old do repeat – Patricia
20 Years
From “Pilgrims & Indians”, Deadbeat Press, 2008.
Through streets of azure sidewalks
And stony windows with no light
There were some sadmen walking
And in the cutting of the night
I’ve seen a little angel
Dressed in rags but still so sweet
And smiling over gutters
And smiling over empty streets
In a country bitter
And in a country dead
In a country sterile
There are people with no heads
Take my word for it
Time for some sins
From money making bastards
Up to their money spending wives
Through TV sets and houses
Their pretty children and their cars
And quacks of twin destruction
Catholic terror over us
And you’re not safe in colors
You’d better get out of the bus
It’s a country bitter
And it’s a country mad
An obedient wasteland
It’s the land of the plain
Take my word for it
Time for some sins
All old and cynic people
And all the bans they put on art
And all the doors they close are
Just the doors they close for us
Standing at their fortress
Protecting visions already dead
Cause they were created
Inside their bitter aching heads
In a country swollen
From the unsatisfied
Since we were young
They taught us
How to keep our heads down
There be no more of this shit
Time for some sins
That’s 20 years of boredom
For trying to live and be myself
They made me watch the gutter
They locked my dreams inside a cell
But now the bars are rusty
And rats are rotten bloody old
My tears have paid off well now
I’m getting higher you stay low
In your cells of poison
In the country mad
Your rules and laws corrupted
Your silent echoes of a brain
Can’t reach me now
20 years, that’s all
20 years of woe
20 years or more
And 20 years to go
20 years, that’s all
Army of Lovers
From “Insane in Rome”, Erbacce Press, 2008.
Come treading through the clovers of your youth
The bargain of your beauty, the rose’s point of view
Come naked through the wire, the napalm piece of heart
And never do surrender, never walk apart
No beauty for the cannons
No beauty for the liar
The army of lovers against all this fire
Must walk
Come stalking through the bushes of your breath
A saint among the murderers, a murderer in their path
Bring forth the proposition, bring forth the fiery spear
And never do surrender, never walk in fear
No beauty for the cannons
No beauty for the liar
The army of lovers against all this fire
Must walk
Come wandering through these wayward straws of truth
These pieces of their game, this blood that’s coming through
The fire they believe in will one day put them down
So never do surrender, never wear a gun
No beauty for the cannons
No beauty for the liar
The army of lovers against all this fire
Must walk
Come bruised, betrayed and hurt
Come homeless, left-behind
Come poor and numb and weary
Come speechless, tortured, blind
Never do surrender, never let them win
Never let them ravage
The beauty of your skin
No beauty for the cannons
No beauty for the liar
The army of lovers against all this fire
Must walk
You, army of lovers against their desires
Must walk
The Seed of the Serpent
From “Insane in Rome”, Erbacce Press, 2008.
I’ve been a searcher in the lands of the North
A wanderer of all the seasons
Yet winter is still my favorite one
By the blood of the old dragon
Damned were the places where I used to lay my head
And seared was the surface of Earth
But I can see clearer now, I can see pure
I’m on the way for my gold
Set up as pillars, ruffled in silk
Supporting the roof of this temple
The bed of her flesh is awaiting the pleasures
To purify the meanders of will
The dawn of Kublai Khan, the stairs to Shangri-La
The pleasure dome opens its vision
Gold tried in Fire, Fire tried in Gold
I raise my left hand in decision
I enter the caves of solid ice
With no hesitation
I wait for eternity, it sleeps in my eyes
I guess men would call it damnation
But I stand there erect, proud and awaiting
The snowflakes to fill my throat
My eyes to be locked and my breath to stop
And a god to be born
There in this chamber where stars do not change
I witness the same sights forever
The sun has grown red, the Earth is now dead
No life exists but me
I’ve always been cold like these stars above me
But that coldness could burn you if close
So no one did dare to enter my presence
On a deep satisfactory note
Alone I did freeze and at my own wish
The world around me has stopped
Infinity stares through my vacant eyes
And grinning says look what you’ve got
Same million voices, same million faces
Reoccur as I lay there in still life
Echoes of past of present and future
Cannot move this creature, immortal
Zeppelin Blossom Sky
From “Satori in Berlin (X-Berg Songs)”, Kendra Steiner Editions, 2009.
I can still hear the train at the station
Can still see the kite flying by
Unable to differ directions, now
Utopias real, utopias smile
My deja-vu girl looks through
Her kaleidoscope dress and her marmalade shoes
Headed zeppelin blossom sky
Headed purity, sanctity, too
And the sun never sets at Görlitzer Park
As some boy learns to play his guitar
The old ones begin to settle the scene
Let the boy, too, win some scars
I can still see the giants in flight
Can still hear the gas in their belly
The beast that one swallowed old Jonas
Spits him out 9 o’clock daily
My deja-vu girl sees the make-up
Considers it fake, considers her break-ups
Headed zeppelin blossom sky
Headed adieu, then be it, it’s fine
And the sun never sets at Görlitzer Park
Well at night you can read by the stars
Suns of all worlds, of all ages to come
Like us must earn their scars
They can still see the beggars in time
Can still hear the whispered goodbyes
The words that echo all mornings
As the giants come over at 9
See, Jonas has fled from his cell
The prison his maker, his tester decreed
Headed zeppelin blossom sky
Headed one night like a thief
Copyright © 2001-2012 by A.J. Kaufmann. All rights reserved.
