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Siren Serenade for the New Sun

from Thickly Mulched Fields of Peripheral Visions by Simric Yarrow

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lyrics

The sirens are sounding! The sirens are enticing!
People of Earth, choose the way you view, for the Purple Butterfly is landing.
The Condor and the Eagle are taking off.
We are now arriving at our long ached-for desire-destination.
We are passing the testing post-fact period of pesty teste patriarchy.
So put a feather in your cap if you have one.
And if you don’t, ask the winged messengers to send you one.
They will, 100% bank guaranteed.

Float your bobbing stocks and your logarithmic lives on the Great River of Rhythm
with joy in stacks and pogo packs for this is the time of fast-forward reward
and slow-down breath-bliss pause.
Pay attention to the signs for if you choose they are clues to the new
you always knew was going to be here now.

In fact, this is the time of the New Sun when we remember why we came
even if it’s a Manichaean time-plane stream some of us never expected to be in.
A time of unravelling the twisted truth in twisted hair harmony amidst the
awesome pollination of some fabulous bumblebee melodies.
A time so unknowably creative when we can fight the demons best by
predicting exactly what we most wildly wish.
So here goes.
It will be a time when polar bears make friends with penguins
through magnetic ecstatic acrobatic telepathy;
an age when American multi-billionaires will take sacred medicine in the Amazon
(without buying up the potent plant-patent rights)
and expand their free-flight horizons as they empty their inner trash cans
faster than a water-wise toilet flush;
an era of holy hoping and voracious hopping towards the
candid soul-sound bright lights – camera - activation;
an epoch of bracing embraces, of unbundled day-to-data communicating commuters
celebrating communion with our androgynous divinity
so –
it doesn’t matter if your sunny touch spirit screen is flat or curvy,
for the boneshaking once begun cannot be undone,
the rattling of our mitochondrial serpents is unravelling the
ancient whispers of the secret seed-spells in our cells
and the love-bomb has already smashed the Vatican vaults and sprinkled
the ashes of the archives with chilli’n’chives from deep-heart dives
and the whales are singing that there is no going back
for the boneshaking once begun cannot be undone
and when we open our soft sweet lips and utter
the horrid truths we hid into the always-forgiving world
we know that there is no longer any wide star-jump Renaissance Man analysing of the aeons
needing to be performed with telescope microscope stethoscope
just a big beating globe longing to be felt
and we feel it
when we choose to trust
that we do.

credits

from Thickly Mulched Fields of Peripheral Visions, released December 11, 2019
Simric Yarrow - words, music composition, keyboards, flutes, percussion
Produced by Ronan Skillen @ Didgi Taal Studios

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Simric Yarrow Cape Town, South Africa

Simric beats out his words with a magician's eye and a musician's ear, performs poetry with a wide-awake humour that thought- and-feel provokes, scintillates, and makes love to the future in a positive joyful celebration of the now... all from beneath Table Mountain in Cape Town, the planet's heart chakra in the heart-shaped country of the rainbow nation, take off to new dimensions in his company! ... more

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