In many ways we are all simply children,
Age has no barrier does it?
They say it's an individual's state of mind.
Wrinkles are merely character
Grey hair? I'm waiting for the next color to come in. Hoping for Pink...

I think I can refuse to submit to OLD.
I reach back to a 1970 Chicago Tanglewood concert on YouTube.
Was it REALLY 45 years ago?
Does anyone really know what time it is?

Ok, I know I'm biding my time.
I lost my friend last year,
And just before he passed, just before his last breath...
I convinced him that life doesn't end here!

Journey on my brother , journey to the next dimension.
Hug our loved ones..give my upmost love to my Mom & Dad
I KNOW you are there in a distant galaxy because
I can hear you whisper..."he was right".

I love you Buddy!

Crazed chuckles
almost drown out
the whole
absurd situation
but not quite
soon the grin
will fade
and tears shall fall
but not today
probably.

Literally anything
limited only
by your imagination
and maybe
your good taste
but ******
I find myself writing
the same thing
again and again.
maybe because
I've yet to say it right.

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

Axiom does not lie upon the
plush bed of the words I've said.
It doesn't flourish under influence of the
flowery texts I've written.
Axiom does not fully exist behind the
actions I've deliberately displayed.

It is ingrained within the subtle folds,
inexplicable nuances
and playful innuendos.
It is present in the lull you find in between
fleeting memories and faltering heartbeats.
It is scored into the unlyricised songs,
sung when our breaths do meet.
It's in the unplanned gazes that
stray into nothingness
only to be caught by yours.
It's evident in the void... The silence we've shared
without ever feeling awkward.

Axiom...
Is the fall that you had anticipated
only after having taken the leap.
It's that feeling of not knowing where the bottom is
but yet still certain that you are safe.

Axiom is...
My unseen heart as it beats hard
for none other than you.

Before I met you,
I had not been searching
For my other half
Because I considered myself full
But now you're gone
And I have never felt so empty

So, let's go crazy tonight...
In separated beds,
In separated bodies,
In empty embraces...

So, let's go crazy tonight
Go into the eyes of lonely night
And see the truth beyond your self...
And feel my long hair of unfinished poems...

So let's go crazy tonight and light me up...