Here I go on with the show shazam!

In the moment when all you are is heart

Then perhaps it can be heard as a song

Asking for some form of returning

To bring back something

Where the missing thing

Must be hiding

Blood soaked

Tears

Sun.

To be laser like..

limes explode in my firing line

Steeped in myth around death

Weapons moves behind cloaks

But lightning eyes penetrate it

Even smiles betray wild hatred

The laser is as fast as water

Time changes in new winds

Abnormal violent end robot

Crashing crayons in violence

Smashing loud within

Dirrect questions!

Please listen?

I was told today I look 28 which is about half my age?! Weird.

In this dry land there is no rain...

yet their are actual paintings

People reaching like rising seeds

There in Marin vastness

Signs of liquid cash spilling

And hopes come like dreams

Curious people waiting

I seem to notice a secret

Like an tomb of life

And a wave in key hole

Rocks tumbling down in maddening

Sounds

As cracks appear

Sounds

Today is my birthday and 24 days later the death of my dad two years ago.

If living means anything to me it has to do with my research on happiness.  I firmly believe that when some degree of happiness happens most people grossly exaggerate how happy they are and lose the passionate effort that is required!

Yellow may be a form of green.

The serious question is how colors like green and yellow effect vision as green is a color in the mind, an atom and and a ray of light.   If some people suffer unreality anxiety than green and perhaps yellow may help.

The issue surrounds the more ethereal nature of black, white, blue, red!

Plants are an example of yellow and green, but is that really worth noting?

In my quest to find myself I discovered a big ball of lint and proclaimed:

I find lint therefore I am!

Then I bounced into a cloud!

Feeling fluffy and alive!

Embracing the vacuum of space!

Falling through space!

And into my room!

Only to discover a refrigerator!

And I was hungry!

But so was the Aligator!!  

As an American man I am here to serve and work on my tan!

Again why poetry?!

When a child reads a good poem they get very enthusiastic and gleeful.  Adults will head to the dull part of the poetry section hidden like a badge of shame at the back of the book store or library.

So what does the future hold?  Does poetry matter?  Does Bob Dylan matter?  Do poets really want change?  I mean you!  I mean everyone!  I  am an ardent fan of poetry and think it deserves much more..I want you to listen to this message and do something.

All my love to you..

A perfect Meety Christmas!

May Santa bless you

With futuristic toy

For joys

And to inflict pain

Still the season of love

Not cyber stalking

So merry merry Christmas

My narcistist darlings!?