Cave of the Shaman
I was falling farther away
From the fields where I used to play
They must have thought
I did not love them anymore
But I could not afford to care
I was chasing places
I used to stare
No use explaining
They wouldn’t get it anyway
The shaman takes his ride
Way off to the side
Telling tales out of school
To a dying world
With his distant heart
Looking out from his cave
This is his part
To play, to play, to play
He’s a modern day myth maker
Ah, but them poets, they can be such heart breakers
Standing off beyond the side lines
Making their…
Their pictures, their rhythms, and their rhymes
(The poets, and the profits, and…)
Out of sight, but not out of mind
To those who feel left behind
Waiting by the borders to say
Can the one that we knew
Come out to play?
And catch himself some rays
In the sunshine where we all used to stand
Together
Why can’t we stand together
Anymore?
Anymore
But to want to know him
Is to want to know somebody else
A somebody who’s life has been placed
Up on a shelf
Taken down and passed around
From time to time
A bone tossed to those who care
So they will not whine
His place is a secret place
It is a secret place
It is a secret place
It is a secret place
It is a secret place
He keeps a lair on the edge of town
Where he’s imposed upon
By the fat man’s sounds
It place where all are aware
But nobody is allowed to go
He’s quizzed on the matter
But dodges the question to and fro
It is a place hidden in plain view
Oh what is a loved one to do?
They will wonder why they are not invited
They will wonder why they can not come
Why of to this shadowy place
The artist does run?
Why are they not invited, Ghostboy?
Why can they not come?
This is a sacred place
A place of healing
Of solitude
A place of work
A place of experimentation
Of digging in dirt
Of imbibing distorting things
Of giving urges wings
Of living out the taboo
(Of flogging and of snogging)
[Things that would seem askew]
(Those owned and unowned)
[To those who walk well worn paths on through]
[This veil of tears]
[This house of cookies]
It is here
In this place
That I will write the sacred songs
That will reveal things as they are
That will heal the tribe
That will pass the secret messages
To those who they were meant for
Just as I was sent messages
Through the radio
Through the internet
Through license plates
Do not seek me out
I am just a vessel
You must find your own answers
Find the clues
I must be left alone
To be who I am
And not who I was taught to be
There must be no knocks on the door
jonvalley.com 