in my pocket
and a whole world of words
a picture of her in my wallet
and a poem

in my heart
I could not be richer
nor poorer a dichotomy
of circumstance

some might say
get a job but
I get heart stamps not
from the government

but from people
and spend them to make
me smile
and they are honored everywhere
because they are
all in my head
my way of looking
at things

I'm no Pinocchio
Or Jonah don't you know
Stuck in the belly of this whale

How I ended up in here
Has never been made clear
Though it's clear I am by myself

Was I walking along the shore
Or a man overboard
No matter how I ended in the drink

The very next thing I know
I'm swallowed alive whole
Now this fish's belly is my brink

With its bones as prison bars
There's no doubt just where you are
No way out of this rib cage

How can a man find comfort here
Year after year after washed out year
All I do each day is plan my escape

I keep the plan inside my mind
With nothing here or where to write
Waiting for the opportunity

That this fish eats something wrong
Where a case of heartburn comes along
Setting this seasick sailor free

I whisper subliminal
Messages into his blowhole
Guiding him to the Mediterranean Sea

And to the tune of that tiny fish
The seas saltiest of salty dish
Pizza Pies friend the anchovy

While ******* tons of them in
Indigestion starts rolling in
Hanging Ten I surf the wave of burp

Landing on my two feet
To miles and miles of lovely beach
Of the Mediterraneans turf

And that my friend is where I still am
A life of tanning pasty skin
Paroled from my prison cell

Sure as how I now live
I'll never go back there again
That being the belly of the whale

Ready or not here he comes
Best you batten down the hatches
Unless you were one of the smart ones to run
Like a **** Hound in July chasing rabbits

Alright, alright, alright
As you turn and face the wind
Open the door to a Category 4
And let Matthew come screaming in

Oh me, oh my, oh my, oh me
Is that Grandma in the yard below
Hanging tight with all her might to the clothes line
With her cat Skeeters in tow

This is getting rather exciting
As I see trees by the dozen crack in half
With my Boy scout skills I might need to later build
A sturdy family size raft

But for now we'll all hunker down
Try and stay away from the windows
And all the flying debris that I decided to leave
In the yard scattered between plastic Flamingos

I'm here wondering at this moment
Which of the two could be worse
Being blown away by a hurricane
Or eaten by a gator face first

Still you've got to love Florida
With 20 foot waves crashing to shore
As I step outside to grab that branch floating by
I think I need to start whittling some oars

was intended
and another paragraph was
to begin
but I lost my
way among
convention
where among
the apostrophe
i turned left
to another
way of annotating

If you're not careful of your sin
It can kindly creep on in
Burrow deep within your soul
Where you can't climb from its hole

You must always be on guard
Doesn't matter who you are
Sins cares little where it goes
Or who's life it destroys

So keep a watchful eye round you
Always clinging to God's truth
Never fall for Satan's lies
Holding tight to Jesus Christ

Where the victory has been won
Through Father, Spirit, faithful Son
Still it's your job best to try
To keep sin out of your life

I enter the small town coffee shop
desperate for caffiene
                           and a moment's respite

and I find it is to another era
I have come, hot and flustered

I look at the menu,
scratched in chalk on dusty board.
No artistic rendering  here
just a list of good honest food,
humble, but a smidgen dear

I order coffee, latte,
with cold milk on the side,
to which the large lady server
looks at me her head cocked to askew
and states, in a flat australian drawl,
that brings billabongs and jumbucks to mind...

Darl, I can make it tepid if ya wants,
or I cans put ya cold milk on the side
but I gotta charge ya extra..
for ya mouthful of chilled moo juice
smiling, lips thin and wide

I replied I'll still take the milk on the side
and one of those little peach cakes
if you don't mind.

She gave me a price and I complied,
thinking unto myself,
the moojuice, must originate
up on heaven's side and
cure all ills, ward off chills
and give only ....
joyous thoughts whilst one imbibes.

I sat at some old farm wifes table
worn down and grooved.
Come to town to shine in this caffiene shrine
rubbing my finger agin the edge
awaiting the latte and cold milk...
on the side....

Watching me from the prized corner table
three old dears.....
With stacked mahjong tiles, and swivelling ears

and on the floor crawling with gay abandon
two small children, in tandem,
they wandered amid the tables
on uneven floors the colour of slate,
deep dark wood, tongue  and groove...
that had seen to much walking, to much talking,
the tongues have slipped and the groove all but broken

As I await the cow to moo, the beans to grow
my heart slows a beat..I let go..
and see the joy, of a fella and a good cuppa,
two old friends caught up in a natter.
and the mahjong queens, realease the tiles
old friend and foes, in an a company of smiles

The cake comes, presented with due grace.
Two  pink half moons of light sponge
in a thin jelly and coconut case,
caught in a lover's kiss of delectable cream

and I understand now,
the cow is an angel,
a veritable dream,
to be loved and cosseted,
the moojuice... of moojuices
the mother of creams...

And now for caffiene...
well go figure...they know their beans

Refreshed and renewed I arise and I leave
but not before buying more moojuice
                                                      an­d moocream...

i have said enough prayers
so i'm done praying
no one really hears
or cares what i'm saying

i have fought enough fears
now i'm done fighting
all the wasted years
wrongs not worth righting

i've had enough regrets
no more ***** for giving
the heart never forgets
but i must go on living