Our journey thru life is a tight rope.... Those that make it to the mountain on the other side mostly employ the aide of a long balance pole

Very few navigate the walk freehand free of constraints filled with elation
these are gifted old souls on the last leg of the path to illumination.

The trick for the rest if us is to lengthen our crutch equally, both ways.  Too much of anything is detrimental to the spirit, it causes delays.

So good luck on your journey, I wish you well....when will I see you, who knows only time will tell

Upside down on
the ceiling above
upside down
looking down at me
what does he want
I know he can see
He's got plenty of eyes
Is he spying for someone
whose lying about dying
so he sends his pet flying
to see if I'm crying.

Ahh...childhood.... The library was solace... It was adventure it was days.

It was being lost in a world of Roman gladiators, pirates andGreek myth....it was reading about Jimi Hendrix before my first trip

I could check out reel to reel, eight track, and vinyl if I wished.  

Ahh those days of imagination
I sorely do miss.

there's a door
inside my mind
I use it to travel
through time
you have one too
look for the handle
when you're feeling blue

turn the handle left
to see your childhood
turn it right you'll see
what future generations
look back on
clear as the day
not dark as the night

so grab that handle
let's take a flight
I'll hold your hand
if you like ....real tight
no need to worry
no need to fight
the past, the future,
the world is yours tonight

I have no MO....
No particular methodology
I just dream things up
Add a sprinkle of psychology

Season with similis
Macerate with metaphors
Emulsify with emotion
Then get baked... Real high

Let the words cool
while my soul
starts to drool
then I present it
to the night.

There's a vato in the milky way sporting a fedora and a stash...
I saw him from a mountain .....high somewhere between New Mexico and Arizona .....smashed.

I took a pic to pinch myself
get proof of what I'd seen.  
And sure enough when
I zoomed in there
he was, looking really mean.

I never knew the Aztecs had gone to outer space....but I have proof... I can show you...you could never miss his face.

I was just reminded why
my pencil is so dear.  
Commented on a post ...
...replying in poetry to the host, the battery died
and one if my best pieces
just disappeared.

I struggled in vain
to write it again but
gave up ....
had a fit in a hurry.  

Had I subscribed to the prescription I apply,
I wouldn't be sitting here worried.  

I still have poems I wrote
when I was 13
because I write old school
.....in pencil on paper.  
Sure they maybe faded,
torn, have some folds
but at least they
didn't just become vapor.

So if it hasn't happened to you, learn from this fool
cuz losing prized verses
is not ever cool.

And if it already has,
beware....
technology again
Is not your friend,
It won't pay dividends

So don't be crass
Cuz you'll be
near the end
then **** ...
its gone  ....
having bitten you
right on the ***.