Mystic Disease 1

Mystic Disease 1

by Alan Lewis Silva

Released 02/29/2016
Lusitone Records
Released 02/29/2016
Lusitone Records
"Mystic Disease" is a musical suite in folk-rock art, and a continuation of "A Discourse on Deconditionism". Download the $1 digital album at CDbaby.com.
NOTES
ALL SONGS WRITTEN BY ALAN LEWIS SILVA
All songs copyright © 2016 by Alan Lewis Silva


1. Mystic Disease 1

Two granite eggshells
On a wooden
Frontice piece,
Light on the gloss of polish
Reflecting the room’s opposite wall,

A couch,
And a woman
Of marriageable age
Reading
A table of contents,
And a setting is revealed
A challenge of adversity
Like triangles
Tingling shivers,
Electricity,
Up your spine
Well, how will you survive?

Part Two:
An Alabaster Calf
And Tableau
Of Cow on a wooden Frontice piece
The moment up to now has been as fragile
As china plates with children

Pigeons wear no hats
And likewise legs
Because they are not wings
They have no pants to wear
He touches her knee
The lobe of her ear emits a glandular
Substance,
Activating his physical behavior
This is why the beast with two backs
Has no wit
But when she was younger she fell backward
However, an errant spokes-woman
Gave her therapy
And healed her. Now,
The future is a long path
Where crystal streams stupefy you
Like the dead in Lethe
Roman baths in previous generations
Distract your paralysis
In a way, he knows
That he will do fine
The rest will be suppressed until
He’s about forty years old
And still watching the ear lobe
Listening to the earlobe,
Loving it,
Emitting for it,
Watching it descend a little
Lower every few years
He will be older than forty,
And so will the year
They will have been together


2. Mystic Disease 2

Like apple and leaves,
Bird and the nest,
And memories and dreams will be
The same as eating from a plastic tray
In a nursing home with gueros

In this is, the white life,
Light as sunlight on a glossy peach pit
The smell of the farm is replaced
By the tasteless odor
Of an air conditioner

Horses and eagles,
Vision of idolatry and pictorial worship,
Dying a little as you lie,
Sinking like icons down a chasm
Of ethereal calls,

To act the way you missed,
An act that is not to be missed
Making up for this now,
You scream and are beaten

Spending all day thinking
Of a girl who dumped you
Two years ago
“Torturing yourself,”
Is there more than one word for this?

In the entire scope of the English language
All feeling is derived from
“Tortured” and “think”
I can think of nothing
But writing all day and drinking
I make the effort
To prove the existence otherwise
I'm working on notes to myself
On a far away, alien planet

He had done this many times,
And he thinks
Of how they might behave,
And his nervous infirmity,
It tells him
To oppose mortal concerns
And fight in the flightless name of Prometheus

He wants freedom and a wide availability
Of clairvoyant offers
In fact, he is concerned about his health
He had not noticed a steady loss of memory,
An affliction,
He believes that conveniently allows him
Moments of effable, transient tranquility

His eating patterns are irregular
He is not adapting
Isn’t this the age?
When schizophrenia strikes a genius?
“No,” he tells himself, “genius passed you
“A while ago with a mockery and irreverence”
The contradictions about his life
Reveals him for himself, by himself
He is a warrior worrier,
Bound to be a charioteer,
Perplexed aviator,
Worth crystal magic
Raised in a cradle of sorts
In the desert, he feels a sage
Of secret dilemma,
Like an arrow bow,
Poised at a distant nemesis

What is literature?
Is that the pang in his grieving?
When he smells the sex?
It is recognition, is it not?
It is a representation and a demonstration,
But this is ridiculous
He spoke his parting word
And exited through a screen door
That separated him from the files
That were gathering,
The flies that were gathering

He used to live in a cottage,
Like poets should
He who burns the leaves in autumn,
“He is burnt now”
Forty days ago, she thinks
On the lawn all history’s events are spread
Like checkered tablecloth
With ants with vagabond faces traipsing,
Leaving invisible markings,

Following each other in a line
Of army memories;
But love is not spread,
Or rather heartbreak,
The tattoos from which the poets’ lives are spun,
And to die by suicide
Romantically
Or morbidly like drowning in the surf
All good things shall end but God

President Sewers
Of isolation’s petty
Grandeur,
Contemplating liberty and loss,
Like a prisoner
Who pangs for the sunlight
After two years of isolation
And solitary confinement,
From whose reprieve
He was sentenced to another jail
Of a woman's loose body
And caustic
Mentality
Despotic

The day has come
Where he puts on a lumberjack’s gloves and
Cuts a path
Through the origin
Of the virgin bush;
But it’s a task
He's hesitant about,
Instead panging for a good looking body
With a quiet disposition

It has rang the day,
And he cuts the wet wood
The slippery
Ones are sliding away
He picks it,
Slapping it against the trees
The ax handle breaks—
It’s too much to take


3. Mystic Disease 3

Flowers on a misty lawn
While the house beyond
Like a white cloud submerged
With vacuous stars and skies calls
Bird songs to the bees
Bird calls to bees she hears
The dead man’s tokens on her blouse
Where they’ve trapped his signatures
Like cash registers
Breasts, books, carwheels
All connect dude-ably
Like ignorance to the fool

Birds and bees,
Fools and the wise
Shadows fallings over the
Snowflake consciousness,
Over birds and trees
Animal ideas
Forever and flighty
Capturing the imprint
Of the feet
On remembering shores,
Where it’s cold,
Where there are no butterflies
Without the heat now
Turning the birds into their wings
“I set out to do something, and he failed,”

Would that be such a bad epitaph?
The poor soul entombed beneath
Would perhaps made some reflections
On this before this time before his own
Believing that he may not reach the end
Of the journey that lies before him
Although a part of him believes
That this all of this destined
It magnifies his faith
Due to new-cessity
Aspires
To be a god of hope,
Hoping he won’t be disappointed
Or betrayed


4. Mystic Disease 4

It is this episode of time:
They marry their people like him
Lose their memory,
But I don’t think so
He drifts into memories
For easily amusing recollections,
This looking back,
As it were causing him to sacrifice
Social sides and disease,
Which expired

Amid a tantric echo,
His individualistic exile-ence
On and on
Has a kind of naval signal
As two ships part
On an icy waterfront,
Fighting as it were sabotaged,
Charting with a new course
Directed at spice islands
In the South Pacific

People blame him
And criticize him
For bein’ so independent,
But they lack
The Icelandic
Mutilated fish
They don’t know how
To preserve themselves


5. New Orleans

Meet me there on Grand Street
We’re going to Orleans
Tonight another poet
Has a pistol in his jeans

Apply black lipstick,
Remove your shawl,
And lend me your hand, darling
Tonight we’re gonna crawl

We’ll search through the French Quarter
To find the big man with cigars
To laugh and tell them jokes
And get thrown from their bars

The sky is hiding
Behind a stale haunted wall,
So lend me your hand, darling
Tonight we’re gonna crawl

A train’s pullin’ out
From the city of missst
I don’t know how I got here;
I don’t know how I left—

I thought that I loved you,
But it looks like I don’t
I thought that you might care,
But it looks like you won’t

The streets are filled with invalids,
But at night they’re gone
Well, lend me your hand, darling
Tonight we’re gonna crawl


6. Next Time Around

I heard an old jazz song,
And then I went to bed
What did you do to my life?
I am the living dead
I can’t forget that I know you
Can’t put it in a box

What did you do to my conscience?

I’m eatin’ when I’m hungry
Drink when I’m dry
I hope you understand,
But I don’t know why
Bein’ with you bent me like a pitchfork
I had to stick it to somethin’
Forgive me,
Little baby,
It’s tangled in your gown
Maybe things will work out better

Next time around


7. No Clothes

Walking down the river, I ain’t got no clothes
Walking down the river, I ain’t got no clothes
Goin’ down Mississippi, oh, there she blows—

I’m movin’ to Miami, doin’ the best I can
I’m movin’ to Miami, doin’ the best I can
Looking for some new thin, bookin’ it, yeah-yeah

Lookin’ for Montana, what did she say?
Looking for Montana, what did she say,
Chasin’ ‘round Virginia on the boardwalk today?

Give me your heart, babe: it belongs to me
Give me your heart, babe. It belongs to me
I keep it for us both, and then I steal it away
For free

Workin’ in the summers, my dream ain’t what they was
Workin’ in the summers,
My dreams ain’t what they was
Cook me yum ham; I’ll hold your hand
Cook me some ham—I’ll hold your hand

They say that the lightning is a strong source of power
They say that the lightning is a strong source of power
Well, they talk like those Nazis, the way they build their tower


8. No Limit

Starin’ at the highway
In the middle of my years
In the middle of nowhere
In the middle of my years,

Staring at the blue light
By the river bend tonight

Climbin’ through the devil,
Hangin’ on a chain,
Lookin’ for the limit,
But there’s no limit
To the Big Bang—

I opened the door of Justice
In the skeleton tomb
Lookin’ like a puppet
In the Skeleton Tomb,

Walking out under stage fright
By the old road tonight

Balanced on high beam
Perched above the town,
Lookin’ for the limit
Can’t be found

Climbin’ through the devil,
Hangin’ on a chain,
Lookin’ for the limit,
But there’s no limit
To the Big Bang—


9. Numas Estrelas

It’s autumn,
And I’m thinking
Of a William Burroughs cut-up
Autumn is passing,
And sooner or later
Our hero will vomit white sparks

In the obscene terror of god,
Living in the kingdom of Nod,
Livin’ in a Japanese castle
With Kibuki plays going on

I think of Shakespeare
With his starry crown,
Just a crazy clown
Roving from town to town
In a field that shortening

I’ve got a long way to go,
A long way to the end
Find a woman;
Reinforce the Middle Ages,
I’m in stars again

In stars again
In the stars again
In the stars again

A short time ago
In the land of the East
A corrupted frog
Leapt into the sleeve
Of a giant
Who was crushing rocks
In the apartment
Of the deceased party

Where the wine is blood red,
Where the season is naughty:

“Yes,” my affirmation
Of the pearly voice
Through fuzzy language, of course
Nonetheless,
I’m in stars again

In the stars again
In the stars again
In the stars again
In the stars
In the stars

This story is true—
Because
In stars


10. O Maria

I’ll tell you where I come from
I come from canyons of dying leaves
Where every hidden desert
Will battle through the trees

‘N I wake up in the morning
And I see a blade of grass
I see clouds shifting over
A lost photograph
And I say, O Maria
O Maria

There’s a dust storm on the highway
The battlements are closed
And everybody’s vanished
I guess they had to go

And a sign tattooed by lipstick
And a paper bound by ink
And mountain Sierras
That seem to call out what I think,
O Maria,
Where are you, Maria?

Well, sleep is coming on
My memory’s lyin’ still
She used to hold me like a pistol
Like there was something I could kill

‘N I dream of how
The way things used to be
The way that she left
Was something I just didn’t see
O Maria
I ask, “Where’s Maria?”


11. Of Greeks and Words

Of Greeks
And words to throw,
Eternally strange
And lost, lost, lost,
A chained ghost
Of an old house
He cannot live in,
Something real
Or a vapor

He has more than enough
Of what you need,
But that’s not invincible
The trees on a hill make a shady spot
He can see
On a granite mountainside
Dappled and leafy

She gave me water
I did not drink
She gave me food prepared
I did not eat
She built a fire, and I did not sit;
But you can’t think too much about church
And politics

He has a kind of reservation
That he does,
Enfeebled and saved
Many times by the sparseness
Of a mystic disease,
And he owes it to the lady
Inside
Of love


12. Oh My Love

O ooh, my love,
Will you ever come around?
Will you ever come around?
Will you ever come?

O, oh my love,
Will you ever see me?
Will you ever see me?


13. Old Man

Old man

Old man,
What are you doing to your life?
Old man,
What are you doing to your life?

Little girl,
You’ll be the queen of the world,
So hold on tight
Cling to the light
You’ll have a wonderful life,

Little girl
Little girl

You’re gonna be a world king,
So be nice to the people
And they will sing,
Little boy

Oh, little boy
Little boy

Well, old woman,
What are you doing to yourself?
Well, old woman,
What are you doing to yourself?

You better cut it out
Before it cuts too deep,
And then it’s gonna seep

Old woman,
Tell the old man
Old man,
Tell the old woman

Old people


14. Old Wet Road

I see you when it’s rainy
I see you in the sunshine
Went down you as a child
When I opened up all my time

Old wet road
That’s what I called you—
Old wet road…

When Rachel came to town
It was kinda strange
I hope next time we do it I don’t have to act
Like I’m insane

Old wet road—
Old wet road…

What happened to the mud
And the garlanded señorita,
The misty tavern music,
Or the leaning tower of Pisa?

Take one for the team
So I can breed,
Old wet road

I was talking to the concierge
We were watching the door
He said, “I hope that sewage don’t come around
“Here no more”

Old wet road—
Old wet road…

Well, I don’t know about love
I just care about you
Next time we see ourselves
It’s swimmin’ in a pool

Old wet road—
Old wet road…

Take me away
And we’ll make it into art
Once when love did burn a
Hole through your heart

Don’t confuse the doorman
He’s watchin’ for the rain

Slip in through the back door, baby
Maybe you will let me do the same

Old wet road…

We can do somethin’ maybe
Get it all back
Make nothing out of somethin’, maybe
Have a heart attack

Old wet road


15. Om Overtone

Listen to the rain
Fallin’ from the sky:
Drip, drop, drip:
Drip, drop, drip

Listen to the wind
Blowin’ through the trees:
Wheeeheeow:
Wheeeheeow

Oh darlin’, would you be mine?
Is it too early for a valentine?
Aum—

If I don’t venture,
There’s nothing gained
If I keep thinkin’,
I could be the same

But I’d be that,
And I don’t want to be that

If we change ourselves day to day,
Develop who are, as we evolve,

What could it be?
We could call it destiny,

But let us be true
To ourselves and to others
Let it all be real free…

Ssensuoethgir dna evol…
Make the world a better place to be—
Ooh yeah



ALL SONGS WRITTEN BY ALAN LEWIS SILVA
All songs copyright © 2016 by Alan Lewis Silva
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