It is not like a feeding frenzy,
In the bay boy, by the dock with youbread
by the loaf.

Just add seagulls
and a boat.

It is not like a gang fight, between
The Crows and The Gull,
at a MacDonald's entrance,
with some discarded
contra-
band,
in a Marked and torn paper bag.

Three are always
clad in black and
one dressed in grey..... or white.

It is not like any of that,
It is like standing in a silent room,
There is no clapping, nor thunderous Boom,
of approval, a the speed of sound, and of light,
the white is blinding, the emptiness binding,
on all sides.  Suffocate my self-esteem from miles and miles away,
if Social Media Therapy, is all I got
something has to change, that isn't LIKE me.

Your skin is like the softest petals,
Your worth the rarest, of rare metals,
Yet
In the sunlight, you sparkle like a jewel,
So I guess we never met because I was a tool?

A discarded rusty wrench, with an oily stench,
I meant in play, when I said "*****", standing on a bench,
In the park, of my heart and yodeling my love for you,
From afar, so far, you never knew, the only feeling I had left,
I had for you.

There is always hope, I am not just another dope
I no longer need stuffed toys to cope,
Being the empty cup that only fills with tears,
I am chipped about the rim, your lips will never
drink from this cup, but wait I know where we
can meet, at that park, with my new pup!

If you have a dog to bring, we can talk while they play,
I promise I will only listen, I won't ask you to stay.

Too long.

Balding head, across the boulevard, catching drops of rain,
falling hard,
cars and trucks travelling fast, weather warning was plain,
for all to see,
watching the drops bounce off, where they land, the strain,
in him is obvious,

his coat sheds water like a duck, the burden he carries tight
to his chest,
he stops and moves and stops again, points prepares to fight,
shadows in the downpour,
he talks, then shouts maybe he likes the sound of his mighty
voice, all alone,

he stops and confronts a telephone pole, others pass by, not staring,
to get his ire,
what he held to his chest, was dear to him and had to stay dry, carrying
his shoes, high
so his shuffle was in soaked sock feet, he had his mannerisms, wearing
plainly for all to see, he only had socks on his feet
between him and the rain swept
                                                         ground and street.

He may have needed more, he was tweaking, maybe he needed less,
was it **** or worse, he was still walking and still cursing, confess
to the gods, he would make it through the day,
against the odds.

Doin' the Boulevard Shuffle,
it isn't hard, until you have to live it.

hide and seek,
child's play, run away,
to stay, shhh, so still,
shadow absorbs,
all but the fun,
where night and
day matter not,
just get lost, in the game.

Then you will seek and find "home free"

How does the human evolve,
Not a question to try to resolve,

Because as a species we survive.

More than like sand mites,
In a desert,
Go ahead spend the time,
Counting grains of sand.

Because as a species, we survive.

Let that hang on your breath,
say it again real slow, slower....
thoughts processes go where they will,
percolate and distill,
"we still have a habit to ****"
one another

oh brother, I need more wine...
Is this by design....or are we on a decline
from the pinnacle of creation.

But what part of you, will be the downfall,
from such heights...take time to drink in
the fading view.

Whether it is oil or riches,
Too big for our britches,
The only possession we own
it seems is greed,
so sweet is this reduction, over
the heat, of want over need,
do you even know your own

DNA

the pinnacle,
It is not the end,
but a place to see,
what you have yet learned,

No way to earn,
What is available for free,
Peace, that passes,
Release, of the past,
Envision, the future,

See?
Only from the pinnacle,
are the past, present and future,
more than whimsical and make believe!

In this journey, know, you won't be alone.

And there is nothing, I would rather do, than be with you.