Word man manifesto
“Band of Gypsys” statement
Guitar celebration
Genius innovation
To Be
Or fade away
Constantly seeking
Another perfect day
Solace from the fray
Of making that money
Sweet mountain honey
The horrible cost
Losing myself
Bread and butter sustenance
Rotting on the shelf
April 29th, 2012
I dare to deeply delve
Stoically
Defiant
Courage of dissection
Earnest reflection
From the bitching rhythm section
That prances down my spine
This day I stand before you
With nothing left to prove
To share this great resolve
No pardon shall I ever beg of anyone
Who vociferously disapprove
Turn their snotty noses skyward
In obvious disgust
Shallow minded mis trust
Opiniated rust
With blatant criticism
After arrogant
Cross examination
Of my poetic regurgitation
Blackened soul liberation
If my words disturb you deeply
Don’t read them
Did you hear me?
Do not read them
You simply do not need them
Me
I must bleed them
In soul purging freedom
My art
Needs no crass endorsement
From any Mothers Son
Celestial ascent
Has finally begun
Rapidly advancing to the sun
As it’s searing brilliance
Bows to the waxing blood red moon
Not a moment too soon
I have increasing difficulty
Taking anyone
Seriously
Who can’t hear the scream of a butterfly
As it explodes upon a slick
Polished windshield
Of a $50K automobile
Those who shall never know
The mystical sound of one hand clapping
It’s always been about soul to me
It truly doesn’t matter
If you cannot see
My artistic revelry
Home grown chivalry
Core sensitivity
Blind, deaf, and dumb
I shall never be
I grow more distant by the moment
From the false corporate snapshot
Relentlessly bombarding
My atrophied senses
Compliments
Of Madison Avenue Puppet Masters
Shadow soldier killers
Who create global disaster
Every evening on the 9pm News
Please don’t be amazed
That I stray from the herd
My strength
Comes from my words
At times
A bit absurd
Precisely
How I choose it to be
Flopping erratically
Like a wounded love bird
Crashing fatally
Into polished ego glass
53 years of hard grinding
Continually seeking
Sadly
Never finding
True harmony
So carefully
Crafting metaphors
To replace the primal screams
Futile nevermore
So meticulously
Penning literary reams
Of chronological extremes
I flow it
As I feel it
For he who feels it
Knows it
A true
Avant Garde artist
Dares to expose his raw nerves
No gimmicks
No photo shop
No cautious reserve
Time to bring this home
I wish I had a better epilogue
Tonight
It is what it simply is
Powerful fatigue
Symptom of my roam
Blessings
Love
HIS peace
May you all find sweet release
On our intrinsic journey home
And I smile………
© Bill Grimes Jr. 2012
