Madness from the moon -----------------------------(1995) Lawrence A. McFadden

i speak of zen

in the reality of now and then

how not to mind being reminded

of if and when

in a conversation of how have you been

and as soon as you speak

i knew you were only trying to be a friend

yet you questioned my silence

and i must silence my reply

as if not knowing where to begin

and in trying to be kinder

i can only think of zen


her lips picked me up

with the line "whats your pathos"

and somewhere between an hallucination

and halloween

we dined on the hidden truth

of our follies

over neiztche and parmesean cheese

how we agreed not to have sex

the moment we left

with the closeness of coming

and not saying please

you left thank yous

saying the spirits were driving you insane


i said laughing

the spirits have left me only recently

crazed and alone

that night i could only think

how with everything so right

there must be something wrong

i never saw her again



i always want

to wander over yonder

and see if i can slip in

between the white and blue of the skies

to fly on the wings

to soar to sing and bring

the tingle to the spine

sweetgrass sage smoke

and kind find of the in kind

kindred spirit

and the calm quiet chat

first the exchange of hats

then a movement in the shadows

with honor

and in the hallowed thunder of wonder

a rattle of the hoof

and drum and hum

no chant yes speak the pain

of the noble soul in the thunderbird cry

and crack of lightning

in the rock

stone and bone

and again i fly

face and hand of feather

wings of gold

let fly my soul


your spelling she said

i had put a twist to my words

i fear not i said in my head

and we kissed and touched eyelids

i bless you with all my love

you said i am touched

by the grace of my god with lust

and hell has not your touch

when i spend the night alone

i grow old and insane

walking the streets alone

at night and in your spell

i dance in the shadows of my heart

and if this be wicked

then i stand in a shaft of light

with you in hand and heart

with all my might

the truth of our love

is like a vision in the night


i am scared

goddammed the pure and the simple


and then the splash

down the well and simon says

hell is unwilling and spilling

from the softness of her lips

i hear the hiss of the serpent

kiss in a silent wish

i pray your god is not who you are

what bliss haunts the empty soul

where fears catch the rain

caught bowl that unknowns are known

to share

and shatters in anger and danger


i am willing to drink the ink

black red green or gold

in communion with the untold soul

i am shown where i go

is an age old blindfold

of the chosen true

charmed with the sacred

spirit of the mystery

and magical moonlit pool of the soul

in solitude


to the smiling buddha Ho Tai

with a braid of sweetgrass at your side

my lover brings to you

a vase of dried roses and daiysies

and i say gee i see

a still life in my window

a photograph

i recognized the scene as a shrine

in the sunshine

a sacred space to a face

the place of a moment realized

some say the real eye

i add a feather

and my thoughts fly inside

an enlightened sigh

and now if it ain't

ornate with more and more keepsakes

the still life comes to life

i find the I Ching and toss three coins

three times the hexagram formed wind over lake

and i read with sincerity sincerity

at night the site is in the shadows

of candlelight and shapes of smoke

the incense crowns

and the simplist of thought

slips away


shame on you too

the disease of desire to disturb is disgust

tit for tat scratch this scratch that

she reads poetry like a cat licks at its food

curl of the tongue nothing left undone

the bliss of the dumb a broken thumb

the cruelty of boredom

give me some the last one the bum

he wanted seven dollars

and liked to be called jerry garcia

i smiled like potcholy

but the only thing worse

than a deadhead swing line is a christian

calling a bunch of words divine


i am blessed with a curse

the poets choice

a moon madness beams upon me

lame brain

with my dick in my hand


if you think you know what fucking

really is then tell me what ain't

no doubt

to risk my sanity you pout

and mouth a prayer around my nipples

with a tongue wet naked and alive

with the devotion

why don't you won't

why don't you won't

why don't you come with me

come with me

and we'll shed our skins of need


i could not help

but overhear

where is the truth in the mundane

when one must be saved who is going

to save you from yourself


i am waiting

for love to come my way

and my chuckle

is i'm damned everyday

forty odd years of seeking has taught me

a faith about fate a date at the gate

and what keeps me sane one more day

is a wisdom found in the night

i say if your god doesn't dance or laugh

i'd pray to a new god

and let a goddess lead the way


again i know i was told

when the serpent sprouts wings

what the wizards and demons would bring

i would be given a love i could not keep

she fluttered and said whats your number

and i did not have a phone for the time

she did not have now

she asked where ya work

and it hurt in answering i do nothing

but create

and her eyes grew wide with the reply

wouldn't it be great

but it already is

and i began to hate the word love

from a woman who knows not how to fuck

with fate for nothing i know

can annihilate my grace for the want of love


and thinking of you as my wife

makes me wipe the water clean

for a new reflection

and another drink of life


you are my son

the voice in my head


and once i did not believe

but at once said

i would rather be dead

then led by the unfaithful

in the course of courses

and in the desire of no desires

there is only the night

on fire

and the day swept away

on the blood of babylon

and in the songs

that rant and rave

i crave to be touched

as much as i love to touch

but i would rather be alone

and stoned

then say as much

to find another spark

in my heart

trying not to tear reality

all apart


give me a chance

not by the hair of my chinny chin chin

i drool on you

brushing your tits quick across my sips

lunatic trip of the tongue

and stumble your knee into the me

i always try to be

listening and suffering the moon beam dream

i say three our fathers

and four hail marys

for seeking the clarity of lunacy

on a full moon night

ripens each on loan moan

till i close my eyes to be shown

with touch

that i am loved very much


i light my bowl

of crushed souls

to chew on the cud of love

the slobbered end of the cigar

the bell jar end of suicides


sizzles the rotisserie

and bear berry


when the shit gets as thick

as the mosquitoes or so i am told

old deceiver

of the want of the soul

never stops and to stop

i must divine again

the flow

or owe to the ferrymen

of the soul and to the poets

of the moon

to soon find in inner journey

the fairyland forest

of sacred ancient trees

the woods in the souls

of the poets

you and me


in the pound pound pounding

of my soul rolls the thunder

a bell told hell

of what i can't tell

and i fell again and again

the spell

is there something wrong with no hell

cracked like broken glass

the scarred and the wicked just laugh

with the sacred humor

of that too shall pass

i know not my own will

but still each black teardrop

of the heart honors not the aim

but the eye

not the vision

but the believer not the miracle

but the act

of faith the healing takes

to mend the broken wing of the spirit

with feathers stones and bones

in the weakness of flesh

i must be left alone

my soul pounding against the hell

in my heart

a rage tears my love all apart

and i try to mend myself

with only my art


a breath

in the closed eyes of chant

with nothing left to chance

to wish

the dance of a bear romance

on the wings

an angel or eagle brings

to take

take your own medicine

and prance

with me free again

in the virginity of sin

and in a spin of the moonlit din

an incantation of hope

smoking the dope

to set sail from the sacred shores

in a hollow holy tree to the land

of sure filled with hope

and talk to the pope

of the pure cure

where spirits can heal

the ache the union of flesh and blood

in the communion of love

for everyone

and in the only sacred space faith

to blot all blight

from the soul

for no one walks alone

day or night

we are all one in the same

sunday prayer

of someday

when the wisdom comes


you alone

are the breaths of the wind

though seldom done one last touch

you say i love you too much

and i say you love too little

things in too little time out

and again our grins are bent with sweat

asleep i see your brow quiver

with dreams only you will see

or perhaps remember

the wish upon my lips

when we kissed silence

and if this were true you

would know my voice and not seek the words

or the sun

but come to the view of the moon

and hear the breaths of the wind

when i am alone

and return naked before the dawn

of the yawn

to the warmth of the sacred fires

in the woods of our souls

where day is still a night away

and if you choose to stay

or if you choose to stay away

may the shadows dance from the fire

in your eyes

and may you boldly hold

the one you love in the warmth of your soul

in the frost of the black october night

and in the chill

of another night alone


strike a cord in my heart

i beg

and hate the way you make me


fancy the thought

my shadow the moon haunts

and wish upon me no empty night

like the last

i carry in my heart

the darkness of winter

that comes to sleep

next to me