Dervishes Are Plentiful




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Hazel O’Connor “Decadent Days”





Whirling impervious to curve balls as they swerve fools for a living not misgiving of real living
This incurs what’s known as pole-axe as we close ranks to the bankable
And thank our lucky stars we passed on mole tax
Lonely hearts dance only blues when games of chance don’t shine their shoes
Cruising for the bruising that hit snooze one time too many


Dervishes are plentiful
Indeed, every move greykeeper make’s a shakedown
The beast within the breakdown
Scrubbed up well upon recovery
And another thing of beauty
Is the part we get to now


Taken lefts
Done some healing
No dealed death
And bled to express feeling
Willing on the dervishes as curve balls tend to hurt more whence the windmills cease their turning
Whirling imperious
Steering us this way and that to help clear us of numbers and stats all about the drawback
Objecting to the more is less theory
Simply cos we love the world query
Fearlessly fun to the gum on our heels
Nearly undone so we flashed ’em some steel
Dervishes are plentiful
We hold them here of their free will
Lick up all the residue they spill
Feed them to the crimson quill and bleed like we’re mid-season
No momentary lapse of reason thieving from our fantasy
For dervishes make easy street reality
Courting sheer insanity, while winking at the camera and tantalizing bedroom eyes that undress every red sunrise
To bleed the moon a kiss


With blushing lips and lashes poised for full eclipse
Devout in pout and stout in calling out the doldrums zoning out our spotless minds before such time as chorus line be routed
Wiggling their hips and sliding down the zipper just enough to shake out any passion thrashing just beneath the surface
And, all the while, they’re whirling
Causing lips to curl, unfurling petals
Offering a glimpse of metal
Tempting us with hot wax
Hot rod burning
Nitrous spitting
Atoms splitting
Turning over
Sticks and stones may break our bones but, fuck it, let’s all shout Jehovah
Blame it on the crow left of the murder
Urge the purge and turn the worm
Merge twin flames and watch ’em burn


Earn their keep 300 fold, scattering like diamonds in a field of white gold
Now you see them
Now you don’t
Make no mistake, when they’re around you’ll know it
Inform them of your own way and they’ll suggest you darn well go it too
No flies on you
Too many windmill blades
Too much cool shit to say
Not enough ear lobes to sway
Only takes two and the saddle starts blazing
Not gonna lie, it feels fucking amazing
Love is the message and dervishes messengers
Magic gathers in their midst
And from their mist a lesson’s learned
Love ’em or loathe ’em but loathe ’em and die
They’re wonderful tokens of infinite time
Whispering carousels twirling our minds
Whirling these dervishes, burning so bright
Scattering like diamonds amidst fields of white gold
If we may be so bold, it’s a no-brainer


Love hard and cry soft
Whirl like dervish
Arms aloft
Find that sparkle
Abscond from pining, go polish it fine
Should you follow these steps to the letter or better then maybe, just maybe, you can transcend both space and time
Love with the dust of your past, with the skin you are now and the bones that one fine day shall decorate a mystical tomb made for two
Elbow room is overrated
greykeeper say bring on the dervish
Turn that shit into a throne room
Just like we did
Now bugger off and go get your own tomb
Just kidding





Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill



greykeeper fusion headline


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