"I'm early. I'm early. My world's not got here yet.
This Wonderland's a nightmare,
not the stuff of dream
There's too much crazy sanity.
I want my tea and cream
and other fellow bunnies
jackrabbits, hares, and all.
Machines of madness kill the people here
They live in fear of gladness for
tiny little things;
so they build the giant sadness
the stacks of stacks and stacks
smoking, falling, crumbling under
weight of expectations"
BlackRabbit throws his watch away
It breaks, and loosened springs
fling the gears into the sun
They melt like winter
BlackRabbit waits for his world to come
Lancelot Price 2010 November 08
They say that in the ancient days
writing on sky was commonly done
And yet in these old modern times
we no longer write, but simply haze.
pale moonshine lustre lost in dullest grey
how I wish that we descendents
had still some beautiful words to say
to write within
the untouchable sky
Lancelot Price 2010 August 1
My life is ruined.
By so-called Christians
Damn the Church! Damn it to Hell!
If there is one.
Other than living in the wrong place in the wrong time.
----- 2009 September 19
redwill shall do what it wants, regardless
When I was a giant
Golden friends from pods have come
One by one
Living in the clouds
Supported by the green
The giant green
We call it blue
But it is many colours
Never does it bore
No matter what colour
Whatever hue it wore
In beanstalk days
We are lifted above the earth
A realm where we are kings
We rule our own hearts
But sometimes throw open the castle doors
I let Jack in
and let him rain
He played the music
In beanstalk days
Michael, you magnetised my eyes with moves impossible
I could never look away until you stopped
Yet even now I watch
"...know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy." - Barack Hussein Obama
Tonight I balanced on the edge of drunkeness and thought. Alcohol, sugar, and caffeine. If you can get to exactly the right mix you will achieve what I have thought of as zen consciousness, awareness without judgement, where all life flows in and through you, where you are not observing life, not of life, but are life. You become free
every input a delicious delight, a surprise, new
I am a hunter of beauty; I would not kill; I feed, to make it part of me.
Do you ever feel that you were born in the wrong era, the wrong time? That your particular set of interests and abilities makes you better suited to some era in the past or some time that is yet to be?
My primary interest and talents are in mechanical engineering design, and oh, was I born in the wrong time. I should have been born in the 1870s, so that when I had matured enough, it would have been in the 1890s, when it was possible to design and build your own designs for cars, and later, past 1900, airplanes. This was the era of the pioneer, when it was not required to have a giant business culture, and infrastructure of technology and administration to create and 'market' a new design. Nor did it have to be approved in the enormous inertia and lack of vision of a federal government crash test facility that knows nothing of imagination, but only of a little set of rules created by those who know only regulation and not design and function and possibility. The designer was the builder and the seller all in one human, one person. There was flexibility and creative flux with no delay, no waiting for decisions made by the moneymen, no need for huge factories. One could design and make and drive and fly.