To Universe, With Regards – The Soul



Featured art by Bojan Jevtić. Click image to visit his studio.



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Porcupine Tree “Buying New Soul (Instrumental)”





Life is what you make it
Take it as it comes, apply a pinch of salt and learn to bite your tongue
Break bad habits, chase white rabbits, take fraught thoughts and frame them
If only to remind yourself of just how far you’ve come


Run to the sun and you’ll likely get burned
Tendering the sender, soon upended and returned
Means to ends are necessary, teach us how to seal the deal
Teach us how to feel the pinch
And inch towards recovery


Life is a voyage all about rediscovery
Undiscovered countries need not be quite so ambiguous
Take a look around, you may have found some place familiar
Some place from your past, either from this life or perhaps your last


Nothing particularly sinister, should we administer sound judgment
Not that of a minister, diminishing returns
The kind that learns its lessons through the art of cherry picking
The kind that turns addresses into quick wins, cutting losses
Flossing with the facts on hand and spitting out the surplus
Considering intelligence that truly suits the purpose
Begin to think the worst and this is where the soul defers
For it will not see wrong turns taken
Should it have been reawakened


Life is what you make it
And let’s face it, we are all born naked
All host thoughts
Impure, sincere
With grand demure or cavalier
We muddle through the puzzle pieces
Searching for the perfect fit
Unaware the answer lies within


Always has been privy to the skivvy doing chores behind closed doors and never ever getting paid for it
Tailoring responses not, it tells the story straight
Relays this from the second brain to quench the thirst of first
Retrain the pained receptors to abstain from fool’s protection


We build up walls effectively from around the loss of innocence
These precincts serve us well until such time as life pleads guilty
Sentencing to death by way of gradually undressing apprehension
Fully clothed we may be, but we’re naked to the bones
Just the way nature intended, pending further spurt of growth


Cannot place a price on soul
Barely know where it resides
However, that’s what’s makes it such a stranger to both space and time
Danger to the line we walk by talking talk read somewhere in a book one time
Taking it for gospel
Cherry pickers stand more hope of separating Kobe from offal


First cut ever deeper as the soul paroles its keeper
From Alcatraz of self-pizzazzed design
Smoking mirrors cloud our minds
Creating false illusion
Only when we lend dependency to constitution
Magic gathers not if not enabled by the user


Hitting snooze prohibits use of inner view and soon dragoons the blue lagoon long frozen by our own chosen Medusa
Serpents writhing, time escaping
Chutes and ladders, snakes and charms
Choose your apple wisely
Trust your gut as first will do no harm
Find some inner peace, release the burden of reserved alarm
And leap into the arms composing nose of sweetest cherry balm


Nostrils flaring, scent unending
Life no longer harsh, unbending
End to loss of innocence and prelude to true inner sense
Never-ending stories yet to tell
And deadpan voice of calm


Life is what you make it
Take it as adventure and pretend it has no end in sight
Leap in blind, embrace proud lions, find your spirit creatures
If only to remind yourself of every handsome feature


Run to the sun, pull the pin on its orange grenade
Go it alone and you’ll find this a lonely charade
Head down the rabbit hole, wonderland beckons and blesses soul cages of all those self-chosen to lounge in the shade
Desperate measures necessary, taught us how to feel again
Showed us how to feel the pinch
And inch towards the boundless state of melody unchained upon the bandstand of our grand imaginations


We’ll know precisely which way we are facing
Providing symphony of soul composes ode to great unknowns
Picks the cherries, spits out stones
Finds home, sweet home and sets up sticks
Turns tricks to treats
Will not permit defeat, less it be dignified


And even then, the soul survives
Withstanding tests of space and time
Suspending death
Transcending life
Light years from darkness
Burning bright
The soul it guides
Beyond last light
Seek with heat and you will duly find it


Life is what we make it
Take it and run to the heart of the sun
Pick out the cherries from every yarn spun
Come undone if it aids in your search
When you find it, thank the universe
Please give it our regards
For sake of soul
Burning hearts and all that grand fandango
We’ll take this last dance
How about we start off with a tango






Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill



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