Blue Flower Yantra 4
Art by Norman E. Masters

9/16 Florescent flowers in a room of mushroom people. A guitar of candy played by a cloud of mary.

9/17 The grass that is water, and dancing in its paper Love making machine.

10/1 A parakeet with two hidden feet that can't be seen.

10/5 They give him his yellow taxi of marshmellow to float away. But his throat feels like the bottom of his cage. They won't let him out.

10/6 He's falling, pick him up.

10/8 He's falling, let them take you away with their magic wings of blue music.

10/10 Come on the purple, blue, red, green, yellow dates are people in a lost society.

12/1 Catch a cloud of sorrow and find your happiness in a peanut. For the shell is your shell and so be is strong.

12/3 But being strong is your weakness.

12/4 Maybe today you die to live yesterday, because you were born tomorrow.

12/5 Take the road up and find your feet because they'll carry you to safety in a statue chairs arranged in alphabetical order, with their dresses down low.

12/10 Don't fall, but come down to me, find the true meaning.

Energy Dance Ascent
Art by Norman E. Masters

12/11 Your mind is a mass of matter of question marks to be unsolved because experience is the cause of absense.

12/15 The man comes with his tamborine to sell for your soul.

12/16 Who needs it, Not I, I'm one and nothing.

12/17 So I am everything, to say nothing of what I'm not.

13/4 Pick your mind up and leave your self behind they'll pick it up for you to see.

13/5 Look hard you too may fall in a cage; you'll go back to an exercising bar. For ever until heather falls into your eyes to bring out your joy of sadness.

13/7 Your body's left your alone to face your nothing.

13/8 That man he sells what you want but nothing to give but your soul.

13/10 Unto Him you do with mary standing to lead you on your way to a dream not to come true but a dream that wakes you into reality.

14/9 Stay forever. You're master's master and never be alone.

14/10 Each question mark you try to fill leads you more into a world or imperfect perfections that have no bind of their own.

15/1 The yellow grass comes and it knows your home, your soul which is gone now, because you've sold it for a song of a mind. And a heart of gold that's tarnished because your polish is home on the shelf with your paper dolls of wood.

15/11 Nothing is real, they're all alive to being panfried images of the sun in its conquest over its rays of glory.

Flower Yantra 21
Art by Norman E. Masters

15/19 Round, Round, kind but dumb, you're the smart one only, because they're not.

15/30 Not what? That's what you're not!

16/1 Take the wind as your own and return your breath taken out, fill the tamborine full, so mary will appear again in her waves of black beauty.

16/3 Drive along a road to an end then make your beginning. Before your mind builds its barricade against its own mind of solitude to love her own people.

16/4 No one cares a world without any thing but dirt.

16/5 This tiny granite planet for you to be hurt.

16/19 Run! it's your only chance to escape your destined imprisonment. You're Free!

16/20 The rich are poor for their knowledge is only that of things on earth. Nothing of the true living.

17/1 No one else can escape but you and I and we have our question marks filled with answers and the floating of flowers.

Flowers In Astral Ecstasy
Art by Norman E. Masters

17/3 We're important life's not.

17/6 The poet writes to convey his ideas. Don't write. Tell, tell of your experience with all your problems of youth.

17/5 Take off your nose and don't hide behind a skirt of pants they....

17/6 They do and worse: they DON'T!

17/8 Fly! You're free in the clouds of diamonds among the clouds of powder sugar!

17/9 Blow your mind in the wind of prosperity to find happiness in your love for your dog because it's your boyfriend.

17/10 You're happy only because the switch is on.

Orange Flower Sine
Art by Norman E. Masters

[Written as creative stream-of-consciousness in the latter part of 1967 when Marge Widman was about age 16 in my 11th grade American Literature class at Brandon High School, Ortonville, Michigan, with whatever music being played in the background, then. --nem]

[pp. 33 - 36, unpublished Rainbow Voices, Dawn Vision Press, intended for 1996]