to my wonderful friend, carlito dalceggio
You are the only artist I don't collaborate,
Collaboration means working together in a joint effort,
we live in a land there is no separation,
no need for joint effort , we are not the ego of united nation
we are the servants of the kindness and passion
Only the way mirror sees itself,
if another mirror placed in front,
colouring the sound,
playing the drum with red , white and black.
There is nothing to paint on,
we pick our brush from cotton fields, ( cotton princes and 7 magits our best buddies)
and dip into tears of a hungry donkey,
we gently touch in your eyes,
we erase the dust of your perception,
then you see magic of creation.
"Art is not the architecture of reality "
fart is better one for that.
for the army of lovers,
We create though we know there is nothing to create,
don't try to see through the distance of yourself
that's not for human beings.
Move within, but don't move the way fear makes you move,
that is dead end and ends in death,
you keep guarding against hell fire,
keep doing, you will end up in it.
Instead we let the beauty we love be what we do.
"There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground".
This is the death of fear,
reincarnated all in once
to the magical Fearless Wheel of Devotion,
Conventional opinion is the ruin of your souls,
they are like ass-holes,
everyone has one.
God turns you from one feeling to another,
teaches you by means of opposites,
now you have two wings to fly, not one.
Only from the heart, you can touch the sky.
only doing things from your soul,
you feel a river moving in you,
The command made the rose open,
was said in our chest,
sweet bamboo butterfly
was a tear of my finger, drop of red blood in my songs.
With thirst of love, we reached down to the water,
gently drank the moons reflection,
now we are part of the beauty,
nothing created is dull,
because creator is full,
we are only tool,
an stitched gold image on a tapestry, our soul.
Our task is not to seek love,
merely to seek find all barriers within ourselves
that we have built against it.
Our intelligence asked for control, pre emptive strikes,
we children want candy.
We dance with our lover,
inside of our chest, no one sees,
from outside, few splash of colours, some broken notes,
inside a wedding night, cotton candy hopes.
At the end of journey my friend
or at the very beginning,
there is a field,
outside of right or wrong doing,
we hang out there,
come whenever you like without yourself.
we will meet you there,,,,