And now here comes Michael walking
(should be read, or better sung out loud!, to Led Zeppelin’s song “Houses of the Holy”)
Part I: Sending his brother away
Michael stands and
shoe shines his things
with the underside of his
feathers.
They’re a sight
these handsome wings,
will withstand all inclement
weathers.
That’s a good thing
for on the eve
he’ll fly out
leading battle.
And the last thing
he needs to grieve
is for them to give a rattle.
You know.
Getting dressed is
a production.
Got that sword of his
that fires
into ribbons of
destruction,
Sends you down into the quagmires.
Oh –oh.
Chain mail of his
is somethin’ swell,
made of things weird and
unman.
You gotta’ get used
to the smell
but I’d avoid
it if you can.
Whoah –oh .
Because He who is
as the Lord
forgets at times to sponge on
down.
But who needs it
when he can afford
a thousand
stainless gowns?
For if angels could
be vain
Mike would be our leading man
affectation for
being unstained
He would be his own
best fan.
You
know. That’s right.
But that’s why he
feels so bland
Immortal and without
sin
Virtues he doesn’t
understand
having angels and saints
for kin
Enters Gabs just in
from riding
Dragons, with a smile on
his face.
Gabs: the bearer of
good tidings--
Mike puts high ones in their
place.
Chief prince reads
the sky blue pages
Longing lumps of pain for his
brother
Whom he hasn’t seen
for ages
Cause he belongs to
another.
It’s so-o.
Speck turns to
dense crimson flaring
buzzes along heaven’s lines
above.
Come the hosts of
Lucifer blaring
Mike feels a queer mix
of love.
Was there anyone so
gently strong
as Lucifer his
beloved light?
Since Luz was the
one to know wrong
was the only who too knew
right.
So began the battle
of Hosts
heavenly, deadly, and
sanguine.
It left many if not
most,
letting out a gruesome whine.
Oh. oh.
First lamb is cast
from the fold
looks like this’s Mike’s new
day job
clasps Lucifer’s
hand but he can’t hold
lets him go
with lurid sob.
Oh-oh.
Lucifer falls and
yet leaves warning:
he’s not
really all that far;
Look to Venus in
the morning
you see his
light-giving star.
Part II: Casting
out of the Garden of Eden, Wishing he could go too
(should be
read to Led Zeppelin’s song “Houses of the Holy”)
Uh, oh. Here’s Mike to rip asunder.
Eden’s ending with his
coming.
In the distance,
hear the thunder
and a complacent kind of humming.
He steps lightly,
feathers taut
senses alert like a wide-eyed
bug
going into an
invisible knot
sees nothing--continues with a
shrug.
There they wait
with bags that match
‘tween the two trees that let them know:
There are things
beyond their green patch
that their paradise would not
show.
You
know.
He
looks clinically at the two that stand
but one a bit more than the
other
then peers at the
lines of the man
places his hand upon his
brother
You know.
The man’s look
comes from seeing things
that he wasn’t meant
to see.
Alas, now does
those things that bring
blights of that
accursed tree.
Oh
– oh.
Cause it’s easier
to blame the fruit
or even the serpent’s
tongue
frankly all of it
is moot
the promises his woman
sung
Oh – oh-oh. . .
At last, grudging
Mike must glance
at the female looking beyond.
It seems she
prefers her chance
and looks forward to the
dawn.
Behind them Mike’s toy
licks up hail
it’s really just for
showing off.
He really likes to
wow the females
with his aching sword
aloft.
You know.
At the edge, Mike
rests his arm
and stands just to the inside.
She turns and he
sees with alarm
the gleaming eyes of a
bride
Oh-oh, Satan
and Man.
Mike didn’t know
but he would face
those gleaming eyes
again.
Inscrutable in time
or place
When he’d be ready to
begin.
But for now Mike
returns alone
to quiet houses of the
holy.
Where only the
mighty like he are prone
to stare out longingly at the
lowly.
Oh –
oh – oh.
The lowly were
a-walking
Dragging feet and stepping toes, then
One says a prayer
and hand crossing
the other just says an
amen.
Oh-oh, Man and Satan.
Part III:
And now here comes Michael walking.
(should be read, or sung!, to Led Zeppelin’s “Houses of
the Holy”)
And now here comes Michael walking.
going bluely
through one of those phases
when all archangels go stalking
It’s just not one of his days-es.
You know.
Wings are weary and sword is
gaunt
from hacking demons
‘n bad things
feather in his cap’s
lost its jaunt
as the drooping of
his wings.
He steps slowly, not quite
sideways
Looking as only an
angel could
almost wishing he could
not stay
near envying those that would.
not
qui-i-te.
Already he’s
been sighted,
and it’s far too late to turn
‘cause that’s exactly when he can't
fight it
At least that is
what he’s learned
You know.
He braces while she
lightly skips
Wary, watches her
burning eyes
and smacks at her dripping lips
Darkens his eyes in disguise
She offers a few
words of Eve
of gently swaying limbs
that Mike just had
to believe
of wanton, calling
whims
whoah-oh.
Mike’s heard her truths
are token
and has yet to enjoy one
but wonders if something
broken
is better than new
and none.
Pale curls are salon
fatigued
Showing signs of
shivering stress
waving over his eyes
intrigued.
Will he settle more for less?
Who knows.
As Mike droops down to
listen
She leans forward
in a way
that makes Mike’s eyes
misten
to know happiness for a day.
Oh-oh-oh.
He looks up into the
milky way
speaks a condition of return
She looks down in thwarted
delay
then up, for she
too has learned
you
know
her eyes skip a beat of planning
and imagines out tomorrow
for if Mike today is
still standing
sometime for sure
he’ll meet his sorrow.
he knows
yet she plans to
take her foe
for if Mike’s to
walk in hand
with sword blazing, he will
know
that one day he was a man.
Oh-oh-oh.
Part IV:
the Last of the Red Hot Dragons
(should be read, or sung!, to Led Zeppelin’s “Houses of
the Holy”)
See how Mike sits contemplating
You'd think his
name was Greek
To watch his jeweled eyes revelating
He's never had to
speak.
He wonders if his
day job
can be more than
heedless slaying
At heart he
hates to rob
those of their
sinful playing.
You know.
Now he strains to walk up
fast
the hill he
couldn't climb.
He guesses this is
his last
He'll slay only one
more time.
You kno-o-w.
But really she's a
splendor
Scales of varying
celestial lights
Did any see such
wonder
from the depths of
Neptune's heights?
She's the last of the red-hot
dragons
and he's meant to
drain her blood
Into a skin-wound
flagon
Or else there'd be
a great, big flood.
That's right.
It would last more than forty nights
bathe the world in
disco red
Would show you all the blights
That are already in
your head.
Only
you know.
But before the deed is
done
Michael doesn't
feel so sure
That the flood wouldn't be more fun
the pain is better
than the cure.
You know.
She looks up with eyes of musing
for Mike's young
and quite the knave.
He's never come close to
losing
So he's never been
real brave.
Her death will be a
story
to tell of great
Mike and his sword
of the godful and the
gory
It's so trite it
makes Mike bored.
Mike lifts his sword red
hot
But she still
prefers to nap
If this buddling wants her why not
Another bloody
scale in his cap
He stops but feels
a nudge on his shoulder
terrified he takes
a blow
then stoops his body to hold
her
feels the brilliant
scales aflow.
They run into the
flagon
scales, blood and
gleaming eyes
The glory of the
dragon
But her hallowed
wings still rise.
A bright shadow lifts up on high
And kindly looks
down on its slayer.
He can't stand to see the bright eyes
Mike hasn't got a
prayer.
It wasn't
discrimination
Her life was a
random taking
They just don't want insemination
of too much
merrymaking.
You know.
Mike wants to go where the dragon
has gone to have
more fun
But he can only drink from the flagon
And hopes his day
job is done.
Part V: From the Mountains of the Lowly
(should be read, or better sung out loud!, to Led
Zeppelin’s “Houses of the Holy”)
From the Houses of
the Holy*
with the pace of one
in daze
comes an angel
walking slowly.
In his hand a sword
ablaze.
He comes idly but not alone
He looks over no one’s
shoulder
for quite frankly he’s quite stoned
and this makes him all the
bolder.
You know.
He comes then with
Satan’s daughter
because she has been asked to
leave
but not without him who brought her,
while her spell she gaily
weaves
You
kno-o-ow.
Satan’s daughter is by far the older
and she makes Michael feel his
age,
she makes the red flames leap colder,
and her laughing calms his
rage.
Oh–oh.
Because Michael is
quite livid
in fact past point of
being mad
from standing
beside her with the vivid
virtues
of being bad.
Oh-oohh.
As he steps farther
from the House,
his wings around him
lighten.
Would he have her as his spouse
but his wings are swiftly
tightened.
You know.
Now the One who
made Her beckons
for as well he made the
sword
that will gleam and leap to reckon
with all that stand to cross the
Lord.
You
kno-oh-ow.
Yet Michael feels
he must now hold her
for this rightly reasons he was
made.
And this reason makes him bolder
since he’s not been ever paid.
As the One who made Her told her
She is payday, every
day.
From the hands of
him who molds her
She can only
stand to lay.
OOh-oh-oh.
From a closing door
comes a sigh
as Michael stands behind her shoulder
and the sword flames leap on high
for it’s time ever and now to hold
her.
He
kno-ows. It’s right.
The door will open only when
Michael comes back solely, but never
can they come to
the House again
but for now they still come
together.
It’s so-oh.
(should be read to
Led Zeppelin’s song “Houses of the Holy”)
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