I'll walk with you tomorrow along the endless shore, while the primal tides are beckoning what has never been before.

Blisters and the sunset
Run if you can
Worlds and art and words and heart
I am what I believe
And me
And I

Roses on the hillside
Rest if there's peace
Pain and joy and loss and love
I am what I believe
And I
And me

And I see suns catching fire to the meadows
Fire without light
Rage on into the darkness
And burn
And me
Completely in the mire
Still holding palms skywards
Feel because you are alive
Love is not lost
Even if its gone

Love
And I

I am what I believe

( reply to Sappho )*

I took my guitar to the sea and said:
'Come now heaven, these fingers bled,
Wrangle and rain for thoughts you deign
And all the listeners dumb shall proclaim,
Strings are merely— vibrations of the soul
And soul is merely one mirror to the gods,
Take my dying art and throw it— to wind
Hear my song, strung, sept to your kin.'

why do I want to pack a bowl,
light it up and send my soul
into a marijuana induced haze?

could it be that I'm addicted,
or the dopamine too restricted,
and it just needs a push into my brain?

I live in my head
I have my own room there
My own bed
Where I do my best thinking
Where I am most comfortable
It keeps me up most nights
Making to do lists and analyzing
conversations from days before
Daydreaming about everything
Some of the thoughts I have
are down right crazy
So crazy that it must not be me
there must be other people up there
and hell not just a room but a whole house
with several rooms and several conversations
I can envision it clearly
Sometimes I stay there for days
The lights are on
My shades are open
But no ones home
I do return to the real world and have
real conversations but seems like I
Always return to my head
Where I live
In my own room and my own bed