I took a deep ride on a tape of myth, the one that weaves my dreams. Thought it was better to write it all down, and hopefully see what it means. Come, won’t you travel this three o’clock hour, and delve in a keep by the sea, flashing tan lights that go back in time, sepia, green light and she. Hollow, and cold stones, kinetic inside, perhaps a retreat from belief, but something whispers she’s just up ahead, her movement on just 40 degrees. Hewn rock for climbing a palace of past, steps to the throne of a queen, open silk curtains, my hand being led, hoping soon something I’ll see.
Shekels made in pain for Salome, in this place of shade, she can dance, and she can mate. Your name means peace, a better place, your thoughts on G-D are not misplaced, could there be deception in your fame. The first shot true from a dead god true, term they you, a prophet’s blame. I see you dance through the air, through the lace. You’re the thought in this dreamers case, moving physics in between, and it seems, Salome, these times veil your face, my Salome. Trouble is a misplaced story gamed. You have for the centuries earned your place, and still, it seems you call out from your ghost, tell me how they lie when they split the host. Is that why you called me in your grace, standing smooth and lithe in fulcrum space. You of all the Hebrew queens, spinning, gleaming of others schemes, and still your eyes show a sad disgrace, oh Salome.
What a tale of mystery come undone. Herodias finds you dancing by someone, in the pool through ice you fall, your head detached, a legend falls, but still the stories go through time unchanged. You’re still to blame.
Welcome live morning from a dream, look deep in my eyes and tell me what it means. Whispered words that do remain, am I beguiled by histories seams, those legends, deceptions by fallen queens, or have, I reached a niche of time delayed, sweet Salome.
I took a deep ride on a tape of myth, the one that weaves my dreams. – 01.31.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל