golden springs
seek
those showers of loyal
followers

gaze in the valley
of
absolute denial
of worshipped responsibility

You are that gazer
You are that walker, of fine walks
across the desert sands looking for
this heaven of mine
which I call, simply,
golden springs.
Lift one-
Lift two-
Lift no more until
you see to it,
that you revive
that thing which you once called spirit
that thing which you once called faith
but the lord has no home in the golden springs
only tiny print, tiny colors of blue, red, yellow......
rainbows in a sense.........but no archs,
archs only give way to confusing riptides
through our enveloping journey.

Are their grasps so important, that you will
run?
run to them?
but where will you run when they stop?
for you, my heart, will not stop...

gaze into those shallow eyes of them!
what do you see?
nothing!
nothing but a remnant of what could be
what could be done
what could be said
what could be painted along the evening sky.

Pick your brush.
for your turn is soon-
pick your color
dont worry-
true faith doesnt fade

but what about this heart of mine?
will I be able to grasp it when the time comes?

tall trees litter the plains, as they dwelve further
deeper-
the trees face you,
the eyes face you
the applause is silent-
what will you do-
how will you fair when they all leave
when all you are left with,
is this golden spring-
will cry?
or will
you fly through the night sky,
across horizons
of wasted moments
wasted temper
wasted laughter
and most importantly
wasted desire

Golden Springs will always return
so I urge you
I urge all
find your golden spring
find your rainbow in the
last teardrop
in the last
storm

Why is rain so beautiful,
when Im hurt?
Will the helping hand
be the striking hand?

I will remain,
a rambler
of the clouds
forever-
Travelling through painted portraits
of visitors-
of golden springs.

Blue Haze
reaching out
to a summer's night
Blue Haze
the indescriminate thought
the reluctant result
for Blue Haze
brings in a heart
with so much hate
so much anger
is it worth it?

Blue Haze coming
to attack
to reach out
to grab for a soul
so unexpected
the plight of the Blue Haze
always stares

The prey
us-
for once the time preeminates
a lost future, a lost past
A lost persona
-then anger becomes self pity,
and yet again the haze sets in
wreaking the tears of a lost man, woman, or
even boy
For the man stands in Haze,
And the boy shudders.

A bomb is being loaded by:Hagop Ayvazian

A bomb is being
loaded on a train
headed towards
new oasis, the pinnacle of man

The fist of freedom's
justice's plight
wanes hard

as the steam engines
faltar for no other
-consequence-

the tone is set
planned
and
reinvisioned

tracks
turn
lights
shine
at the road
ahead

a once far off road
now made to in seconds

the consequence of destruction
less toil

passage of frozen wastelands
once headlined
by
her sick
her hunry
her weak

across the border once more
watch towers alerted
rifles aim
but not a shot heard
round the world
not a soul in sight
without a forbearing smile.
Unity in your world,
means doing the forbidden
doing the encountered
thought
always
tickeld with
but never true reality
Unity for us, is all those
hungry eyes
staring at the same thing,
at the same past,
at the same failing future.

One in a milion.
-One in a million-
that's all you need

One in a million
to shout those ancient words

with justice for all!
justice?
Ha!

the corporation-
is that justice?

train stops
bomb blows
childrens' limbs become
desegmented from head to toe,
exploding with the midnight chill.

Rain of fire
becomes Rain of blood
Rain of rhetoric
becomes
Rain of heart

-Sacrifice-
-regret-
-deny-
-insinuate-
-Sacrifice-

A bomb is being
loaded on a train
headed towards
new oasis, the "pinnacle of man"

Have dreams died?
Has the radical died?
in the hollow sky
the hollow day
Love becomes
failed lust
Ascend to the inner slope
and see
Lack of dominating rhetoric
I confront
I speak
do I hear?
The wind-
The heart-
It flickers towards
the green travellers
-PLight-
The dreams flee like innosence
of a hundred follies
sweet screams
-Radical mindset become sirens-
The sirens are silenced
so is the radical words
of this last radical myth
a once destiny
now
a fact of decline
of a dead people
to me.

what do I want?
I want to walk across golden bridges
with no fear
of the depthy bottoms
of a possible fate
a possible journey
to a
possible abrupt ending
to a
seemingless abrupt life
an
abrupt lifestyle-
in this nonsense we love
in this nonsense we create
in this nonsense of our dreams.

I want to speak with heart
and find an answer
I seek golden ritual
golden acceptance
an acceptence which seems
so far
yet, not so dear
not so worthy of a dream
not worthy of a past declaration

The gate lies at hand
and yet the key will always lie at
side, at rest, at refuge in
my soul.

Poison to their ears
Poison to their eyes
that's what these calls
these cries
are
for they are forbiden truths
hidden truths
in this everescent paradise
which they create with their bodies
hiding their souls, hiding their hearts
but I am one of the few
the few out there
forever out
forever abrazened
out of glory's hands
and into the hands of truth
the invisible hand which touches us
and keeps us from that wonderful
dreamworld which we all seek
heveans gates are so close
the golden gates are open
yet the hand ceases to release
for the mind ceases to be