Listen to a reading of "After The Fugue":
After the fugue state clears,
after this whole shitshow has been shitshown,
after the stuffed shirts have become unstuffed and the talking heads have found their bodies,
after the Beltway brainchildren have turned back into terrestrial primates,
after the Pentagon has been pierced by the Roman lance and bled out F-22s and Reaper drones,
after our headless corporate gods have been cast into the sea screaming "I'M MELTING! MELLLTING!!!",
after Buddha Godzillas his way across our world,
Earth will heave a deep sigh of relief,
and we will truly hear the birdsongs
for the very first time.
The birdsongs like the full moon's light hitting your eyes after orgasm.
The birdsongs like the gentle tickle of a sleeping lover's breath on your skin.
The birdsongs soaring out of the silence like the opening notes of Sweet Child O' Mine,
born of silence and received by silence, met by the baby's smile of silence,
emerging in complete human stillness
for the very first time.
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Wow. This is beautiful. The sensuous detail is amazing. And reminds me—what do you do before enlightenment? Chop wood, carry water. What do you do after enlightenment? Chop wood carry water. Life is good enough as it is. It is “I” that has to contribute to it.
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high
Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say
[Chorus]
Carry on, my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
...
...
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say
[Chorus]
Carry on, my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more, no
~KANSAS