READ LOU
‘
Everyone should read Lou Reed over and over and over.
I’ll be your mirror, reflect what you are
‘Between thought and expression’, ‘pass-thru fire’.
Somebody else would have broken both of her arms
That’s the difference between wrong and right
Shows just how wrong you can be.
Lou Reed gave me everything, everything and more
Pale blue eyes, that I just don’t know
And that’s the long and short of it.
There’s nobody but you, inside my thoughts
as the rhythmic thoughts subside.
Different colour’s made of tears, nobody called
In a way you’re the best friend I ever had.
The image of the poet is in the breeze
Canadian geese are flying over trees
A mist is hanging gently on the lake
Our house is very beautiful tonight.
Wash the razor in the rain
I’m waiting for my man.
KARMIC SEED
For Lou Reed
Trans-my-great
Two persons
In one, sip-
Da bardo.
This pome moves
In 49 steps, the con-
Tinual bardo.
Suspended between
Magic and loss, thought
And expression like
Sanskrit being read
To a pony.
Transcript of Antarabhava
Key Terms Antarabhava: The existence in an interval. The period between death and rebirth. Analysis of the Buddhist
QUWAR-ANT-TIME
'The incest of some-
one elses thought'
Lou Reed
READ LOU
Lou Reed gave me the essence
and all of the strength he had.
Like a black and blue mask, sad
sad song a curl of his lip a look
in his eye a take no prisoners
look inside, a rock n roll animal
Your legendary heart goes out
not with scotch tape, not with
glue the gel of street-level
humanity, adhere to an un-
certain probability.
Rushing with it on my run, Lou-
Reed you gave me a radiance
of strength to sustain in me
another breath. American poet
washed up on my shore
you tore down my barricades.
MY HOUSE
Living- room is piled up high, My Lou
Reed boxset has go to take second best,
Another delivery of P.P.E. will see me
unable to get into the living room.
You couldn’t cat a swing
In there. The blue mask
sounds like a ship lost at sea.
Lou is in my house
makes everything perfect,
boxed-in remastered,
a gift from Lou to me, my
house our house.
The spirit of pure poetry.
GOD IS DEAD
I smoked the pipe for Lou Reed
and the smoke went up in smoke.
his spirit climbed the walls like
The sword of Damocles',
I know where I was when I heard
I got a phone call from my ex-wife
saying it said on the news Lou reed
was dead, I was writing a poem called
with-in listening to a Lou reed song
called the day John Kennedy died
I stopped and cried. I woke this
morning raw eyed, maybe I dreamt
there was a point to life and the human
race. a shadow shimmered like smoke
on the wall, a new day as if a dark shadow
was lifted from me, I can't explain but
I felt good in myself, I could hear music
playing in my head. Like me he loved
the reality, the autumn leaves fell outside
I know what I want to do, play Lou.
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