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The Big Everything
Hey, I wanna experience the big everything, the big top and the great abyss.....not miss one thing.
Hey I wanna experience the big everything, how it feels to be tall; flowing through the bodies, warm and singing.
Hey I wanna experience the big everything, when its’ silent marching fingers pull out the stops and stop talk forever, and the tongues listen.....
That’s a feeling I wanna buy into, that’s a moment I wanna lean into, that’s a gift I wanna open slowly, that’s an everything covered, time to remember...that’s happening now...
Watching; watching; not acting. She switched into survival mode; watching; not believing.
She turned away, finding the exit; watching, not feeling.
Many choices across time; embedded; I chose other views; most views benefit from contour, sweep and variety.
Views are no trifling matter, endorsed by the rear slopes, wide bays, beaches and seas. The spectacle is overlooked. Alive with hope at dawn; loss is the distant view, with a clear boundary.
One minute almost a playground, one minute almost a playground, one minute almost a playground.
A geological mishap leaving a raw wound.
We are in a different world, we are in a different world, we are in a different world; One where we must find solace, solace, solace, solace.....
Yet each is in harmony with the other, yet each is in harmony with the other, yet each is in harmony with the other;
One minute almost a playground, one minute almost a playground.
We walk on all-fours, heads tipped up to see the sun, then we learn how to run, run, run; eyes bright with learning and intelligence;
Here we go, here we go, and here we go. Round and over and beyond, all timed to perfection; leaving better versions of love behind us; catching grim determination, grim determination, grim determination by the jaws! And flipping him over; as he tries to bite
Retreat before the second attack and catch the wave before it
Covers your head, covers your head and you roll forever, in the undertow
Blinking and sinking, with the fish....
Here we go, here we go, here we go, here we go, here we go, here we go!
To the land of youth, with the head of a pig; I keep all my beauty, and it is your duty....
To kiss me, kiss me, kiss me! And keep me young, put down your gun, it’ll do you no good here!
Keep your eyes in the adventurous realm! Waking or sleeping, this land it will hold you.
The powers of time, and spells that enfold you; to the land of youth, with the head of a pig; I keep all my beauty and it is your duty
To kiss me, kiss me, kiss me awake and keep me young, put down your gun, it’ll do you no good here....
In the land of youth, with the head of a pig, I keep all my beauty, and it is your duty,
To kiss me, kiss me, kiss me awake.........
copyright Karen Langley
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BEGGARS TO CHANCE
08:49
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Beggars to Chance
Ice cold waters of the snow-fed land; shipwrecked together; beggars to chance; chancing to live, living to death, dying to life, dying to life!
Dry hot levels of the high-ridged sand
You live in a state of war; no wisdom from experience; you think – you die but once, and reach the lighted city,
The fortune’s far away! When you live outside the day; the safety never stays! And your naked heart cries pity!!!
Shipwrecked together, beggars to chance, chancing to live, living to death, dying to life; Industry of the truthful, signals lost, never made misadventure, take the credit, and the rest in kind...
Delight and destruction are both swept away, delight and destruction are both swept away, delight and destruction are both swept away......
copyright Karen Langley
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Centre Dead.
He'd always been a man of legendary excess, washing off the freaks, the ghosts, the earth, the darkness.
His expression was strangely dislocated.
It zigzagged like a bolt of black lightning.
He was listening to the boom of his heart in his head.
The house is falling down; he said.
So get out while you can, get out while you can,
Fake and fragile are the walls,
Swooning stucco lined with souls.
He was dead centre; centre dead and left for living
Came to light on scented pages
The dead man's' house is where she rages!
So get out while you can, she screamed
Come collect the crazy man; on his back, he's in a trance,
The drums of fate design his dance
The drums of fate design his dance.
Karen Langley (copyrighted material)
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BABAL England, UK
One speaks and a thousand misunderstand
where millions are silent and a thunderous applause erupts
where chatter
overwhelms humility and gossip destroys worlds
the tongues wag, the ears flap and the mind creates a wall
everything has been said but no one has understood
talking with conviction and concluding that knowledge is easy and effects a multitude of expanding smokescreens around truth
... more
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