10,000
early morning muses
but sometimes late at night
he brings enough sun
to make 1000 poems look easy
he is the leaven to our loaves and
the tequila to our margaritas
positively
positive he works through
the dark of night
to bring us light
and for the full effect
of his efficacy
drink dark coffee
first
then
sufficiently caffeinated
awakened and ready
to read
put in the work
to discover the words
his encouraging words of life
and maybe you’ll burn to earn
a bonus of how to survive
so very little sleep
for me
personally
its more about
the lines between the lines
than those not spoken at all
or written at all
rather realized
if I were to
focus on others
half as much as he
then maybe my life
would be less miserably
my own
more jokes than yokes
and less wails to no avails
no non-satiated regrets
or cratered frustration
rather
peace in a storm of senility
he writes for us all
with a message of hope
like the god of HP he sees
we are radiating rays
positivity pointed
one and all and
all together at
the same time
toward heaven
he moves freely
amongst our home page
from whence did he come?
from the fourth dimension
he brings forth conjuration
his style is love
his style is hope
his style is empathy
his style is encouragement
his style is truly who he is
he is an early morning beacon
bewildering
he comes from the east
to rise across our browsers
seeking the infection of discovery
in each hissy fit writ
we write
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
10,000
early morning muses
but sometimes late at night
he brings enough sun
to make 1000 poems look easy
he is the leaven to our loaves and
the tequila to our margaritas
positively
positive he works through
the dark of night
to bring us light
and for the full effect
of his efficacy
drink dark coffee
first
then
sufficiently caffeinated
awakened and ready
to read
put in the work
to discover the words
his encouraging words of life
and maybe you’ll burn to earn
a bonus of how to survive
so very little sleep
for me
personally
its more about
the lines between the lines
than those not spoken at all
or written at all
rather realized
if I were to
focus on others
half as much as he
then maybe my life
would be less miserably
my own
more jokes than yokes
and less wails to no avails
no non-satiated regrets
or cratered frustration
rather
peace in a storm of senility
he writes for us all
with a message of hope
like the god of HP he sees
we are radiating rays
positivity pointed
one and all and
all together at
the same time
toward heaven
he moves freely
amongst our home page
from whence did he come?
from the fourth dimension
he brings forth conjuration
his style is love
his style is hope
his style is empathy
his style is encouragement
his style is truly who he is
he is an early morning beacon
bewildering
he comes from the east
to rise across our browsers
seeking the infection of discovery
in each hissy fit writ
we write
Yes indeed Joel, it is about time.
These words are his words, they are barely my own rather collected
and displayed as an ode to Nat.
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