Beginnings
By Halocination
The fifth day of the year 1977, And my mother was holding on to the hope of lifeMy life swelled her beyond limits. The new babes are dying in the womb,And the new testament preaches on about the heavenly homeDo you know who I am tonight?Do you know if you are all rightI'm the surreal dreams of stars,I am the whirling maelstrom that continues on VenusI bring tears to the eyes of the storms on earthI sit on the stars you gaze upon Dreaming of you from the same stars you wish upon.I wish you were flying with meFlying through the atmosphere on heavenly orbsKnocking winged birds out of the wayI don't care whether the cage bird sings or if it criesIn my wake those birds are merely road killAnd you think this is inhuman of meBut I paint the stars that freckle the galaxy.I spot the pixels of rainbows and calculate their arch...My memory layers the earths crust To the blistering boiling core of molten liquid rock That is a stronger foundation than any solid matter could ever be.I'm the star that shines through urban city night light pollutionMy words spill to narrate the fields of savannahs in AfricaWhere the Nomads play cricket with broken elephant tusksMy knowledge holds all the wealth of the river banks of the Nile and GangesAnd then my mother's water breaksThe rivers flow to spill me onto the earth and my brain aches as I try to speak all that I think...All I utter is gibberish and gaga's of premature communication.I listen to the hum drum of your communicationThis will never doLanguage is too limitedWhen will we reach a higher state upon which we can communicate.These grunts and babbles leave us air headed and speechlessWhat are your thoughtsI want to learn through osmosisWhat is the alternative to spending a lifetime to learn what all those before me died to discoverOnly to die myself before using my knowledge to make a changeNothing celestialJust a changeYet I read, and like an adult being sustained by the diet of an infantI fall to my kneesToo weak mentally to realize the things I already knowAnd too malnurished to understand that I cannot handle the answers to the questions I askFruits fall from trees with no one to catch themLike children die with no one to shelter themWhatever you're looking for that is what you'll find...I'm the still birth in the cradle that holds all the secret to life and the things you ask yourselfToo ashamed to ask others because they may laugh at youAnd my knowledge is only valuable to those that thinkIf you think of things that can never make you richIf you think of how stupid we are for chasing dreams of wealth and powerFailing to see that power over the world is to have power over yourselfIf you think why the hell do we care whether water melons are seedless or not, when we still can't cure the common cold...And how many babies will be still births before we forget about cloning sheep and creating viruses like AIDS which we then have to hide the cure forAnd in what crevice do you hide the cure? Where do you place the hope of a world dying premature deaths because they refuse to rise above cluttered ghettos and organized cubiclesYour home is your space, your office is your space...You too can be homeless, you too can be jobless...Your only space is between your two earsMy space spans galaxiesI connect the dots of my stars to create Animals in the skyAnd thus you create astrologyBelieving that a whirling mass of hot air Billions of miles away affect the events of your life to the secondNot realizing that what you look for is what you'll findAnd the first thing you should look for is yourselfWhen you can pinpoint the exact location of the creative and understanding sector of your brain, You will know where you areDo you know where you are?Do you know where your children are?Some of you fools belong on the side of a milk boxMisleading other lost souls to worlds where you think...Where are you now?Are you a still birth in a cribOr have you grown up to be able to effectively communicate the thoughts that swarm your subconsciousnessWhen will you realize that the truth is in your subconscience, and your conscious mind lies to you to help you deal with your present state.Curled up in fetal position struggling to hold on to lifeTHINK!!!When does your life begin?From the womb?After you are born?When you learn to speak?When you have acquired enough knowledge to appropriately bestow your learnings on another...Or are you a still birth throughout life...Making as much difference as you would if you were still laying in a crib frantically trying to hold on to life, not even knowing why you want to live...Where are you?Copyright ©2001 Allister Written September 20th, 2001 © on Sep 20 2001 02:46 AM PST 17 • 0 • 9
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"The fifth day of the year 1977, And my mother was holding on to the hope of lifeMy life swelled her beyond limits. The new babes are dying in the womb,And the new testament preaches on about the heavenly homeDo you know who I am tonight?Do you know if you are all rightI'm the surreal dreams of stars,I am the whirling maelstrom that continues on VenusI bring tears to the eyes of the storms on earthI sit on the stars you gaze upon Dreaming of you from the same stars you wish upon.I wish you were flying with meFlying through the atmosphere on heavenly orbsKnocking winged birds out of the wayI don't care whether the cage bird sings or if it criesIn my wake those birds are merely road killAnd you think this is inhuman of meBut I paint the stars that freckle the galaxy.I spot the pixels of rainbows and calculate their arch...My memory layers the earths crust To the blistering boiling core of molten liquid rock That is a stronger foundation than any solid matter could ever be.I'm the star that shines through urban city night light pollutionMy words spill to narrate the fields of savannahs in AfricaWhere the Nomads play cricket with broken elephant tusksMy knowledge holds all the wealth of the river banks of the Nile and GangesAnd then my mother's water breaksThe rivers flow to spill me onto the earth and my brain aches as I try to speak all that I think...All I utter is gibberish and gaga's of premature communication.I listen to the hum drum of your communicationThis will never doLanguage is too limitedWhen will we reach a higher state upon which we can communicate.These grunts and babbles leave us air headed and speechlessWhat are your thoughtsI want to learn through osmosisWhat is the alternative to spending a lifetime to learn what all those before me died to discoverOnly to die myself before using my knowledge to make a changeNothing celestialJust a changeYet I read, and like an adult being sustained by the diet of an infantI fall to my kneesToo weak mentally to realize the things I already knowAnd too malnurished to understand that I cannot handle the answers to the questions I askFruits fall from trees with no one to catch themLike children die with no one to shelter themWhatever you're looking for that is what you'll find...I'm the still birth in the cradle that holds all the secret to life and the things you ask yourselfToo ashamed to ask others because they may laugh at youAnd my knowledge is only valuable to those that thinkIf you think of things that can never make you richIf you think of how stupid we are for chasing dreams of wealth and powerFailing to see that power over the world is to have power over yourselfIf you think why the hell do we care whether water melons are seedless or not, when we still can't cure the common cold...And how many babies will be still births before we forget about cloning sheep and creating viruses like AIDS which we then have to hide the cure forAnd in what crevice do you hide the cure? Where do you place the hope of a world dying premature deaths because they refuse to rise above cluttered ghettos and organized cubiclesYour home is your space, your office is your space...You too can be homeless, you too can be jobless...Your only space is between your two earsMy space spans galaxiesI connect the dots of my stars to create Animals in the skyAnd thus you create astrologyBelieving that a whirling mass of hot air Billions of miles away affect the events of your life to the secondNot realizing that what you look for is what you'll findAnd the first thing you should look for is yourselfWhen you can pinpoint the exact location of the creative and understanding sector of your brain, You will know where you areDo you know where you are?Do you know where your children are?Some of you fools belong on the side of a milk boxMisleading other lost souls to worlds where you think...Where are you now?Are you a still birth in a cribOr have you grown up to be able to effectively communicate the thoughts that swarm your subconsciousnessWhen will you realize that the truth is in your subconscience, and your conscious mind lies to you to help you deal with your present state.Curled up in fetal position struggling to hold on to lifeTHINK!!!When does your life begin?From the womb?After you are born?When you learn to speak?When you have acquired enough knowledge to appropriately bestow your learnings on another...Or are you a still birth throughout life...Making as much difference as you would if you were still laying in a crib frantically trying to hold on to life, not even knowing why you want to live...Where are you?Copyright ©2001 Allister..."