If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

The beauty of life isn’t having everything perfect and rosy and all we ever dreamed.
The beauty of life is in the journey of overcoming each struggle.
Battling it with nobility.
Getting down in the mud.
Despite each of us being a means to an end
and none of us getting out alive.
We make art, love,
build from our imagination and support each other with solidarity,
humility and humbleness.
We cherish the here and now and make romance of our adversities.
The beauty of life is in the snags in our journeys that we have to look twice at.
The challenge that we may never overcome.
The beauty of life is in laughing, hysterically,
till the very end.

No matter what.
Despite all opposition.
Against all predictions.
Defying all belief.
Rolling the dice.
Breathing.
Till the very end.

People may say what they want.
Influence who they wish.
Question what they need.
But we will continue putting in the work.
Like everyone else.
In fact like no one else.

Till the very end.

Life is a walk,
through the shallow garbage,
the sociability, buildings, grime, crime, work, homes, towns and cities,
car parks, night clubs and late nights.
Sadness and happiness,
elation and grief,
to the beach.
Where the land meets the sea,
vastness colliding, significance, understood,
In it’s place.
Harmony, clarity and tranquility, your place,
The beach.

When it’s all stripped away, there will be a beach left behind, where land meets sea and life meets heaven, vast and empty.
Take me to the beach.

When I’m just about to fall,
to go forward,
to leave behind,
to see everything I’ve ever wanted to see.

My left hand clings on to the past, twisted round my wrist,
my senses have dulled,
my heart is longing forever but forever isn’t very intense.

So for my peace of mind,

take me to the beach.

Night & her infernal hues
push the caffeine drip.
I'm caffeinated.

Night & her peyote cues
push the whole world flat.
I'm gelatinous.

Goo, yes, goo.
Star
to form
to dust
to mud.

Night & her violet light
guide me in to silence.

Silence but
for the strike
of a Clipper
or the pop of a
bottle top or
the rip of a
zipper.

Kissing me
Is an event
That requires
Full bodied
Participation

Clearing clouds, color
blue breaking through
letting all my troubles
take a stroll
clearing my canvas clean
so that I can kick cans
of paint *** I can
paint pain or peace
or just let love colors
rain, create freedom
in my own bubble till it bursts
besieges bystanders
filling them full of care
common sense and community
we can all kick cans of paint of unity