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Strumming guitar strings along with a violin,
Only following paths least lit or traveled,finding my way through the tangled jungle ofyesterday.Cutting my way through the vegetation of everyday strife, I land on all fours.
Basking in details, gathering them like leaves being raked into piles of entertainment.
Tolling african signs as they race between pages of documentation, accruing wisdom as it flows downhill into ponds of learning.Opting for and choosing select meanings of prose as I glide along on melodies, random and adventurous through life.
Talking incessantly in my mind happens only in pictures as I watch my life entice ideas from what I see.
Sadness, emptiness, abandonment, loneliness – finding pathways to lead me onto deserts where I may find my soul intact.Quietly sharing, no speaking when writing down all conversations for posterity.Always taking time to feel what it is I’m seeing.Depths flowing ever upward as I qualify myself in creative juices – mostly ink on paper.Talent far-reaching, giving…
Watching screens of aging complacency erupt into poems of love across lines of believable endurance.
Folding away ideas and letting knowledge take a back seat to imagination’s wit and wisdom.Focusing always on energetic moments of entire ages, following them along trails, solving puzzles of tomorrow.
Stillness of purity sets itself before me in an attempt to wake me from a reverie of thoughtful memories.
Rightfully placing everything in filing cabinets of my brain, one day to be used in terse explanations of value to anyone who reads them.Significant words, portraying all of life on existent borders of fame, balancing writing with musical scores, as telling stories of lifetimes becomes a full-time epic of repose.