Flabbergasted at my findings
Drooling slightly over luck
Hard to explain how my life has changed
Now the proud owner of a Whatchamacallit

It came with all the accessories
All the whistles plus the bells
Lucky I grabbed it when I did
You know how fast those things fly off the shelf

Double wrapped in heavy plastic
Sealed up tight for safeties sake
To keep from the hands of those not in the know
Plus less chance of escape

Though Whatchamacallit's aren't dangerous
They are mischievous all the same
Far be it for me to set mine free
And be the one to blame

So I keep it on a leash
Everytime that I go out
Even put it in my pocket
If I'm roaming a big crowd

But believe you me if it's me you see
Out someday on the street
I have my Whatchamacallit
Somewhere close to me

Surrounded by chatter meaningless voices taking on no life, not growing close enough to truly matter
That single thought is wrought from inside a busy mind ,buzzing then blinking
Revolutions revealed then quickly covered by the layers of life then quickly shatter
Tuning in to turn on catching a wave of thoughts as they turn to foam,again rethinking

Basic beginning quickly becoming whirlwinds,people &places; bumping into times
Continuing in passing, possibly collecting in small portions,randomly puddling
Opening a new window brings stronger rushes Spiraling sounds rises then declines
A slower gap looking back, a moment then forward to groping screaming notions doubling

Fright never settles ,even with jolly Conceptions begging for more attention
Building of life despite flashes of phantoms whisking into familiar forms
Calm is often felt as a negative the pace a race forming an unseen addiction
No barrier and often the weight to great for a single carrier waiting to preform

Compared to clouds ,billowing rising with heat brought down with cool rain
Downward it came, leaving even heaving it's cleanliness awash in a confused mind
Maybe thoughts controlled by gravity all the weight taking taking a lower seat with the pain
Bewildering how many mannerisms present themselves ,then wreckage offers a new page
reluctantly we open it back up to see what we may find. R.C.

Oh Brother & sisters oh why! Wasn't supposed to make me cry!                                                
My feelings deep down inside ,again & again I'm takin that late night ride .          
Is it me or am I just a fool ,thinkin I was cool, making it through.
Just a few simple words ,a few lines, some nouns & verbs,a minor space a slower pace.    
Thought about how  easy ,just wanted it to be pleasing.
My easy road,I've just burdened my load,
Left me weeping instead of sleeping, I left my smile but did I fall from grace?!
Peace Takes Practice Rick

The echoes from my mind could be the ringing in your ears?

Minutes of the morning turning to hours of afternoons

Carrying the weight of the day on the evening breeze

As if in spite into never ending hours of the darkest night

Hints of light despite the falling back, glancing through

The new sun is strength , needed to form even bigger shadows

One revolution almost completed ,keeping us nervous even though we have succeeded

Others scream or live for a lifetime of revolution on the whirling globe

Meager minds taking a wealth of wisdom in a simplicity of survival

Basking in splendor of surviving breakfast to breakfast or a yawn to dawn. R.C.

You're the sun.

So beautifully bright that I have to stare, even though it hurts horribly.

I live in Antarctica, where you only light up my world half of the time and then leave me to suffocate in darkness for months on end.



You're a deer.

Unaware of me observing your adroitness from the dark depths of this brazen bracken which conceals me.

If I make any sort of sudden movement, I know you will sprint away into the trees because you're so afraid of letting anyone get close to you.



You're a puppetmaster.

Pulling at my oh-so-vulnerable heartstrings in the most musical way while creating the most fantastic and addictive art.

Your fingers are magic to me, and their slightest movement can either plunge me into endless despair or **** me up to the most heavenly of all cloud nines.



You're a siren.

Drawing me in with your sweet song only to ultimately unravel me.

You taunt me with colorful hints of false hope, making me wonder if you're really that cruel, or if you're merely  unstable.



You're a child.

So oblivious to the obvious, yet incredibly innocent.

You brighten my day with your silly antics and sweet gestures alike, but you're too enthralled in your own little world to ever notice.



You're Doctor Jekyll.

Always changing your face from friendly to arrogant and asinine, then right back again.

Sometimes I wonder how I could love someone like Mister Hyde, until you turn into the nice guy again and remind me.



You're a weaver.

Excruciatingly twisting the threads of me into the fabric of my being, leaving little streaks of sorrow and joy.

You have shaped this tapestry in the most painful and beautiful way, and without your unknowing influence, it would surely be unrecognizable from its current battered, but unique, condition.





You're a thorny rose I keep trying to pick.



Sending me away ******, bleary-eyed, and smelling sweet.



I wish you could understand how much I need to carry you home.

A Flower Sings
Of
A Rolling flame,
The River where it touches,
The beaches where it tosses,
A Flower Sings Of A
Black night
Radiating in blissful myths
A Flower Sings.

I'm feeling like the sky
Inside I cry
The refreshing pain
Called the rain
I'll explain
Rain is pain because it wisp everyone to hide for cover.
"Don't go out, it's raining"
At the same time, stepping out in it forces you to let go and face what's already done.
"You're wet, so what"
No longer worried about your hair or clothes getting wet, it's already done.
Rain is pain but it's like a drain
All worries are gone, washed away.
Rain is pain, we all know
But once we learn rain is pain & finally let go
"After every rain comes a rainbow"