~ YEAH, MAN, YEAH! (warning: contains expletive madness)

~ Picture me staring at you... yeah! Then grab my hand and fly.

A light breeze hesitates around me.
The air is pure as the soul of a Buddha.
The sky is limpid and bright as the heart of E.T.
I am ready to change, once more.

With the lights out,
In the most ontological silence,
I gently place the palms
Of my yearning hands
On the heart of my soul,
I close my eyes
And with infinite expectancy
Prepare to savour
An infinity of pain
In a way only I know how to feel.
The pain of ecstatic vision.

It is a moment of extraordinary intensity
That catapults me into the first day of creation.
I feel the scope of my desire:
A desire for emotional transfiguration
That equals nothing,
Not even the explosion of the Supernova
Still, I wish to make you share it,
Now, while I feel it,
Now yeah, man, yeah!

Ah, friend, if you were here with me!
None of that simple communion
Of experiences along treaded routes.
You would share a unique trip to intensity...
In the very moment in which I'd shake your hand,
You would perceive and interpret my biorhythm
And all my vibrations,
With the knowledge of your extrasensory response.
And my biorhythm
Would immediately return
To optimum vital level
And my whole Being would pass
From the melancholy-depressive
To the most harmonious tonic-active
Vibrational frequency.
Spreading onto you like an aura.

Yeah, man, yeah:
I need you to become real,
And not just a reading presence:
How fucking depressing,
A virtual presence indeed.
You are a flesh and blood human,
Are you not?
Then transmit to me,
With all the tenderness
Of a real warm embrace,
Your marvellous,
Vividly coloured images
Of your pictorial mind and
Make'em flow into mine.

Yeah, man, yeah:
I'd visualise greatly loved landscapes,
Faces of favourite people (finally!) And animals,
Adored paintings, sculptures and objets d'art,
Aphorisms and extracts of poetry
And prose of amazing beauty and profundity,
With a perfectly intuited backgrounbd music,
Celestial to say the least.

All this transforms me, man, yeah:
Transmutes me ispo facto.
You'd loosen all the knots
Of my compressed energy
And empty all the sacks
Of my neurosis.

While I gloat light, fluid
And vibrating with joy and peace
In a state of pre-Nirvana,
Because of my inspirational state...
I understand that communion of kindred spirits
Is a soliloquy of cosmic import,
Architecture of extreme spatial possibilities.
Communion - friendship is in fact a spatial fresco,
I do believe.
And as you read me now, I find light
And shadow of the spirit
In the spring of my Emotion.
From the abyss that we are,
Both you and me, yeah!

Man, yeah:
The strength comes to us
From the unexplored regions of the Ego,
The Mind's Eye to offer itself to community.

That image lives in the background space,
In the remote cellars of the Ego
That borders on the cellars
Of all the other companions and brothers,
Printed on the eternal pages.

And so it comes up from free imagination,
From the hand in direct contact with the heart,
Like writing,
Its brake invisible and pure.