All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical

The ransom was paid.
I would guess it got some style
points with its hand-off,
although that’s really just a sense
on my part, given it’s been
all my part and there still
has been no word or
sig…

we never stopped once
to consider the road,
or the chosen scent
of the chosen rose.

we just loved how our feet walked
and how it pleasured our nose.

we never once stopped
and thought of the sound,
our foot…

I am
vacant, some being fills my space in spacetime
Technically, I am here. But really
I am not. I am, an observer.
I am absent from the trivialities of human existence
A mere watcher of the suffering and…

… bee yourself.
:)

I’ve heard of couples fizzling out after a few years or even less.
I’m here to say this will never happen to us because so little tears
we’ve been together, believe it or not, now for 52 years.

So it happened that Quentin Lynch actually wrote the letter to Nancy, the waitress at Bezzlebub’s. He had been toying with the idea for some time though could not bring himself to face the poss…

I exit as a messenger
Of the silent rooted presence

just a little thread
of water
down the side
of a cup
of a tree trunk

trickle

how the time
ticks sometimes lonely
sometimes only
second to second
a world apart

trickle

as honey runs
sweet
insipid
and slow
just e…

in the most silent way,
how he passes his time,
gradual light graces his fronds,
smears across late day hues,
in an exquisite dance,
whispers through the tines.

the hill is bored endless by rabbit,
my cush…

Nothing , And I mean nothing can ever hurt them now
together they flourish and sustain
both securing and giving a pure heart

take me to the place where you go
where nobody knows

I were so very patient as

i slowely ran my toes along

your bottom

then your hip,

you along your thigh

across your knee

then your calf

i knew from these inti…

Do not fool yourself
to think
you have fondled
a saint
You have merely
touched your lips
upon
a burden.

One glimmer of hope,
In every desperate situation,
A silver lining, in every dark cloud.
Why do we only need a candle,
In a vast darkness,
But refuse to believe that hope keeps us alive?
We must always be…

Love the madness of serving yourself…..

The Horny Horns played funkadelic as the sound of
trombone, sax and trumpet rent the air
There within the music, minds travelled
to where beats of soul echoed through the psyche

Always in the groove giv…

darkness sits in hot idleness
across my half sleeping form,
in unseasonal warmth,
the night noises enter
each open window.

you had to leave,
and in these days inbetween,
my second brain
does not see or hear…

… “be
here
now”
more.
:)