Wednesday, April 30, 2003

Poetry by the Hobopoet Todd Huey

My love comes from a spiritual awakening.
Why then does my percussion of love pain me so?
This trance dance groove that I hold so dear vibrates
whole new waves of painful evolution.
My belief system now has no charts where love lies.
So now I hate my melodies. Abolish this instrumental heart
from my imposed limits.
I accept this unusual loveless dream-like journey.
Where there is no creation of love resides.
Torture of the heart, no beauty in a flower, nor in a sunset,
Nor in God himself. I damn my love. I damn my soul owned love.
There is no sword that afflicts such sorrow as the distant shore of love.
Oh, distinctive voice let me love so;
As this hypnotic journey of love you possessed me with.
For all my pores bleed of love found. The gentile book of love,
The exploration of love gives me the light of day.
New sweets. My love is blinding light,
My hands, my fingers, my tongue, my body and soul
are tools for giving an electrifying celebration of life.
Wandering peacemakers- this aural traveler of deep space awakens
from the spellbinding life plan.
For the awaking of fireflies and moonlit nights.

My vibratingÖ.
My vibrating windowís to my head--
resonates my sound to you.
My fingers skipping over wind holes of wood and soul.
This compassion being-instrument will give you a
vibrating dance.
The ear to the universe is now open.
Dust trails light years long and lifetimes thick;
The fireball which is us,
which is one ,
which is forever.
Seeing beyond past, present, and future.
My music will unveil this picture to you.
Dance, dance, dance fingers and tell her my message of love.

How I Contribute
My pain is the blanket I cling to when
I am alone in the darks of my mind.
This colored mist hides many shadows of self.
The irony is my light source is ëselfí.
This choice Iíve made will lighten my spiritÖ
So to remember again.

My Transformation
My transformation is flooding with confusing
ripples of choices.
The riverís soul is now boundlessÖ..
and running rapidly lost. Cascadeís turbulence
is my consciousness. Feeling dazed as I am
draining down the side of the mountain.
Losing my breath.
Open to the driving desire.
White water with tiny dancing bubbles.
Peering in hopes to spot lifeís eddies.
It is not my lungs that burn, it is my heart.
My soul being recirculated.
The river has changed level once
again and now it is as if I have
never held a rudder. Find the will.
The voice speaks,
The life lifts to higher places.

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