Morning Blossoms

For the essence of time is flux, dissolution of the momentarily existent, and the essence of life is time.”

–  John Campbell 







I could’ve found a trapdoor            

& unplug your soul pins in             

my favorite hour/ of slurred            

whispers/ hard progress &            

flush feeling/ it disappears            

because of these here 1 eyed             


boys on bicycles pass in lush            

innocence two bees drowning             

forever in lucid amber time/              

loose mood of now is best &            

a blood-dimmed past a valid            

background to hang on to a lie –            


dead the morning blossoms/            

misty drop zone mood & ages            

dead all twisted nerves &            

catatonia dream-like fair/             

dead the moldy tribal bones            

& all our research parched            

& dead & dead & dead & dead    













Weather Report – One (1971) 


Peter Bies © 2013



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