Sounding scenic views I’m seeing on screens of my photographic mind –
exceptional pictures, clear and explicit, like nothing outside of myself.
Enjoying it entirely as all of rhythm plays to the nature of my being.
Awesome tones being regulated by the presence of a duo playing here at Buddy Stubbs.
Songs being sung at my personal request, pleasing to my heart no end.
Feeling each and every note as they spread themselves throughout me.
No where to disperse any of it, holding it as longas I can – until I can’t hold it any longer.Letting it surge and fly into thoughts, travelinghigher – no longer staying quiet.Speaking silently, softly, into words, appearingquickly onto paper.Poetry forming – being translated through time.
Although minds refuse to grasp and use any of it in mass confusion.Ideas and images darting about, are pulled into manycreative, cohesive thoughts, turning them into eternalpoems and laying them about in books to air.
answered in full.Turning about, all people stand in awe of other’s knowledge,not understanding that they too, can attain it’s realm.
Tasting the freedom of being alone on tables of featured pantomines, treating ideas to a plethora of anti-aging thoughts.
digging up beautiful rhetoric and expressions.Soul-defying epics, wrapping themselves in mystery,focusing entirely on what cannot be seen with thenaked eye.Straining exhaustingly on days of unending stress,pulling extra duty in setting things straight.
Never fitting or belonging anywhere, always alone, asolitary figure, I roam this earth through darkest nights.Finding at last a temporary hold through Hospice, wherein.We are companions of a sort for a short while as we teeteron edges of death, and then let go.So I guess if I were to belong somewhere on this earth, thisis…
