Waiting for you,
Yes you!
To toss me a stanza,
Feed me your lines,
Give a starter, an appetizer,
An antipasti,
A few morso's please,
To complete a meal.

So we make this connection
Permanent and when we break
Such being the course of all
Uncoiled, unoiled machines,

We will look back and say,
It was the best poetry of my life,
For two made three
The most fantastic words...
Unto one, into one, one.

So send me your pregnant,
half born, song with no lyrical end,
That won't complete themselves.

Titles in search of body,
Touch me in places,
That only you can provide
A path, a travelogue,
So I visit, and show you places,
You missed!

Send me those lost bereft ones,
Yearning not for freedom,
But creation itself!

Let us collaborate,
And make a marker's mark,
That cannot be auto corrected,
Since the morrow's daylight will
Bring its inception,
A new name, a new poem,
That will be added to the global
Dictionary.

Were you born in '98?

so was I.
let's do the maths.
that makes you fifteen,
even sweet sixteen.

Methuselah, not my name.
not even my middle fame, unclaimed.

Course meaning clear!

Lived a long time coming,
Picked up yesterday my three year old boy,
Third of a third of a third of a third
Of a half of me,
Who I only see once a year,
And we fell in love once again,
all over as is our style,
Annually, annuellement.

Went to the cemetery
Go once a year,
Where they have buried
The lineage.

On the first,
From near two millennium ago,
And upon the each of and the
every one of his descendants,
Psalm 37:37.

They wrote
upon their markers
David's words

לז  שְׁמָר-תָּם, וּרְאֵה יָשָׁר:    כִּי-אַחֲרִית לְאִישׁ שָׁלוֹם. 37          
  Mark the man of integrity,
  and behold the upright;
  for there is a future for
  the man of peace.

An enticing blessing, and curse,
A passed down warning goal.

What's this got to do me,
I got love, poetry, and
French, geometry, and history,
And cute boys on Facebook to study!

Plenty.
You were once three.
You will be someday
Not just fifteen, sixteen, but
Three hundred and fifteen
Just like me.

Your cells will be embedded in
Others,
So take care mr and miss 1998,
On that banner, wrapped
across your chest,
If you win the contest
Of a good life,
Better write down something smart
That is worth living for,
On the palm of you hand.
Tattoo it where you will see it
Everyday, and in your mind
Inescapable.

Then press it upon the skin
Of that three year baby boy,
For that is what this has to do with
You.

I was lucky
to have that once in a lifetime
feeling. .
that most probably never get the chance to
that feeling where time stops
and immortality arises
where nothing mattered but now
I just wasnt lucky enough
to keep it.

The heart has its reasons
that go beyond reason
and all the mind can do is reluctantly question.

The way I see it
is you wake up every morn
soulless,

Spend the rest of the day
rebuilding it
anew,

So when you lay thee
down to  sleep,
thy soul to free,
not to keep!

Except for the poetry,
You created in tandem,
That on your flesh
Inscribed and filed
Under the heading
Completed.

Wrong question.
Wrong footed.

Let's review:

With a woman,
Created  life,
Can, did, and
done.

This new life,
Automatically a replication,
In my own image,
Subject to my modification.

Control my death.
Choice is mine if I
So choose.

The body instrument,
If tended well,
Will run as long as
It can, longer than
Most can imagine.
All machines wear out.

Can ****,
If so choose.
Can save,
Some, not all,
If I so choose.

Do choose.

With practice,
Will get better.

Let's review:
The power of
life and death
Is mine.

My choices coded,
By a moral standard,
Designed, modified and
Chosen to obey.

There are elements
Can't control.
Not a fool.

Let's review:
Man can make it rain.
Man can blot out the sun,
If he were so foolish to do.

Can fly.
Go under water
For extended periods,
Live to tell.

Someday,
Will ontrol most
Of the elements.
Not all, but many, better.
Those that can't dominate,
Will forecast,
Move aside the wrecking power of
Tsunami, volcano, tidal wave,
Diminishing their power.

Can go to other planets,
In my solar system.
Someday, will visit
The Milky Way,
Cause that would be cool.

On and on and on,
Could go, but let me
Summarize with a question...
That points you on the direction.

Does god believe in me?

The answer of course provided
poetically,
But let us to the conclusion come
Holding hands friend,
Yes, to both.