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When the rising winter sun
Whispers a blush of peachy pink
On the evening’s steel blue clouds,
I know that I am home and safe,
In my small but ever busy world.
ljm
Another morning walk, awed by the Nevada sunrise.
but when it's mine
it's pungent as turpentine.
I grow restless for more.
But more is less yesterday and

bigger tomorrow when dreams
are all you have to follow. And dreams
are like the weather. They change
once they come together.
The little flower is so beautiful
And bright it's smiling in the
Warm sunlight and it's blowing side
To side gently in the warm sunlight.
The Sunlight
The cold wind gently blowing
The Autumn leaves
There bronze and orange colour as they
Gently touch the ground
Falling leaves yes there falling
From the old oak trees,

And they touch the ground softly
And gently and I'm watching them blow
All around and the little birds are
Singing so passionately
Up in the old oak tree,

And I'm sitting watching
The world go by as the
Autumn leaves fly by and there
Leaving the old oak tree
Flying high up in the
Clear blue sky there whispering goodbye.
Autumn 🍁🍁🥮 Leaves
-------------- adjust the minute

When people go to the desert,
with no toys to play on, just,
just,
so fine a term, just is. Adjustable,

one size fits all, all together now, yup,

we done it gang, we got to the land
of refrigerators,
and global fresh produce,

the land of corn, and wine,
Beulah's land in that one song,
you knew Beulah, she was the sub-
mom, wise as a neo-oracle, on Channel 3.
She had her own TV show, and she was good.

Now, I'm thinkin', all the colored folk
I ever had a laugh with, was on TV.

For a while they had Amos & Andy, with black
actors and voices, although on the radio,
those guys was white, few knew, I did.

But I did not know how to act around a bunch
of grunts, arrived one night, like 5 Bloods,
by invitation of that mad lieutenant from Maine.

We were approaching listen, quite time,
the once in while,
seems like all the time,
the spirit of the Fishnet Factory
first six months, Forever Changes,
Velvet Underground and Nico, and Jimi

drift up -- feel a night once, with a clear
seven second flash attention paid

to a phrase, a term, in cultural pacification,
- soul brother - said by an obvious hick,
yet,  the curtain lifted when some one heard,
yeh,
really. Show us, what you mean,what you call
experienced?

Radioman dropped acid that night, Purple Double Dome,
un beknownst to any but me who gave it him,

as that question became the point, and it was
a showdown,
and shut up, because the whole place felt it
when the net settled and the framing patterns

fit both STYF with BTDT boots, stolen, and not
really repented for,
it was a stunt, I was not caught, in fact,
I shined those boots to a three day pass,

which I had no clue how to use, it was Georgia,
so,
the experience that night began, with Georgia
on my mind,
and we wandered, into realms few armed men
have ever entered,

more centered in the middle of three point
literature enclosure,

as one, zazen, me. Tom Green, with his Panasonic
Reel to Reel, and Weirder Harold, who ran the radar.

we got this signal see, we think we listen,
its like those people's courts, entertain us,
show us the law,
enacted,
with names changed to conceal the innocent,
rampant false accusations,

witness protection,
you do not need to know why wars are fought
for money,
Nietzsche said power, wills clash to prove
Lobster level stacking nature of us,
- NOISE HUGE ORIENTAL DRUMS
we, the people in any structured we, you and I,
we, are a wedom open
on allsides, as at the bottom of the ocean of air,

we live in a devilishly clever contraption,
mind you,
mind me, we become something more,
flash
ifery point imaginable as novelty patterns,
Submissive art,
-so insert Jello time - absorb
-slow thunk
- whump whump
seen through, as leaves leaving little strands
of cool shade
to mingle with light, soft, recessed lighting
reflecting from limed walls, lacing, subtile shadow

Synchronisity, simple, sure.
Madness come upon a man robbed of hope.

How come he to think of me, and wonder if
ever is itself a mythic psi-psy-science,

called into being,
by the mouth
of a major stadium mob.

In every stadium on earth, the spirit
of the crowd,

people make their living, by maintaining,
constant,
I am not them, they are the prey,
they are my targets,
look for munchies,
- faces tell every thing
look for cotton mouth, search signals sort
those ones,
in need,
Holler - I got it
as the real thing, baby, hear it sung, real,
deal done, in the spring
1970, alive and in attendance during
the cons-umption over some few weeks,
25 hits of the February 1970 Orange Sunshine.

Epic, everything, is epic, if you kept the records.

Yeah, if what we do is written and recorded,
each thought and deed, something tells me,

part of that is true.
We live whole lives, and none of any day we live,
was lived artificially, we did it, as it came to pass,

took baby steps and giant feel like falling ones,
in stride,

struttin', lookin', laughin'

we got past that,
let's celebrate we know, one trick traps,
make y'famous,
make y'ten minute rich, with five of fame,
at the end.

While we die, taking our own sweet time,
finding stacks of seven seconds on acid,
I had forgotten where I put.
Knowing I can think it, do not make it so.
It scares me how you turn
your face into a wall
how you rip your ears off
when I call
You turn your lips to stone
when I try to kiss you when I fall
in love with you and kneel at your
feet with ****** knees after I crawl
your just an old wrinkled crow almost
forgotten except for your distant caw.
Don't believe they've met
This family matinee
The kids come with guns
But it's the roll-on wife who's loaded
Beneath the rhythm and sound
There's a sign saying 'POLICE – INCIDENT'
Love may have the right to remain silent
Yet when it ends, it ends badly
Love motionless
At the bottom of
A backyard swimming pool
Now quietly referred to
As the crime scene
Sadly, this is becoming more and more common.
The beautiful bright flowers blown
Softly in the Morning sunlight
And the cold frost on the ground
All night
And the gentle wind blowing the leaves
Softly around in the sunlight
And the little bird's
Chirping so Passionately
And butterflies flow
And little flowers gently blow and the
Frost and snow slowly melting away
And Springtime is on its way.
Spring day
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