The evening shades have descended
and a peaceful darkness is upon the land.
Clear star filled skies and a new moon on
the rise.

The frogs and crickets are in fine fiddle,
their night music in tune, romancing the
air with their hypnotic rhythmic tempo.
The garden fountain is playing along, water
sounds join the musical chorus as does the
light fresh westerly breeze rustling the leaves
of my two garden birch trees. Truly a musical
symphony to my old man ears. Another
tranquil night interlude heard and enjoyed.
Add a purring cat on my lap, I am content.

but I am old enough now
to have my fears comfort me;
and have the things I love
chain me in fear -

You were everything
the sky, the clouds, the why
I was just me
now and then I made you smile
my heart smiled with you

The sky is empty
white clouds tossing tears
the laughter ran away
now everything is nothing
a grave of memories

Now is no more

Whose lie will do less damage?

Nothing personal, it's all political.
Hard rock mine real estate, mind state,
less turmoil, after the blast, settling dust,
grand fluffy occlusions in purple sunsets,
as the herds return to sleeping grounds.

Kinds flock together, all united
under the kinds that shepherd flocks
to fleece them in season and out,
instant,

"Preach the word;
be instant in season, out of season;
reprove, rebuke, exhort
with all longsuffering and doctrine."

Live and learn, or turn and burn
with desire to know where curiosity leads
life out of mind.

Biological means life logos using
Meat machines to make up mind's
Machinations,
PIE *magh-ana- "that which enables,"
from root *magh- "to be able, have power."

"we wrestle messengers, and make 'em pay"

Wille zur Machts misthoughts fog,
into which the white horse disappeared,

leaving the illiterate hedge hog in the clear.

Have you never invited a story to live in you,
did you never attempt to memorize
Casey at bat, or Paul Revere's ride?

At the base, most least highest part of you,
at the sole
of the foot you stand upon,
tree pose, suppose, imagining balance
is a system that makes your spirits rise,
and imbalance attempts prevention,
by increasing the will
to believe I can remain so posed, great
iffing ego boost, foul form
of gaseous wedom
given a good convincing win
in puberty, while transitioning
to fructificating adult…

aha, the man
in the mirror, sees the child
wondering as if wonder were a verb won

by one willing to see if one can see
beneath the blindfold, in the classic game

was it blind man's bluff, or pin the tail,
one of those everybody knows but me games,
popular in ****** forms of making others laugh

at our blindness,
so we all learn a kind
of way we all are different, a way
some find funny as blind poker players.

Is this the tell, can we think we see you lie
?
¿
Is an a a take away, as amaze,
lifts one above
around astounding stories
with miracles fixed dogma used
to judge from, after the last Trump
about the time grace is defined
in religious prep
as unworked for favor, like
"money for nothin' and chicks for free"

but far more culturally refined,
more Trumpian
big iron American, real estate,
******* fixed military order
where only
rank matters,
at the last judgement, that's the tell,

is what a gnat thinks
of an elephant controversial?

Can a gnat make an elephant scratch?

Ai, in the blink of an eye, watch.
Here's mud in your face,
big disgrace, a flea madjaphlench… yo? Y'know?

Earth to the Universe, listen,
there is really too much to take on trust.

True rest, does not allow a liar to lead an army.

Let me be yours... let your final breaths be a lament of my name,  
A soft echo on your lips, as life gently fades,  
Let me be the delicate fruit between your fingers,  
Squeezed of its flesh, essence seeping through,  
Devoured with a hunger only love can birth,  
Lick the nectar off your fingers,  
Savor me in gentle breaths, each one a lingering taste.

Let me dwell in your mind, a constant presence,  
In the midnight of your thoughts, in the afternoon haze,  
And in all your morning glory, when the world wakes anew,  
Let me be the sunlight on your skin,  
As spring stretches into the warm embrace of summer,  
Welcomed as an old lover returning home.

Let me whisper the sickly sweet words that haunt your dreams,  
Let my voice be the echo that fills your nights,  
The longing that curls around your heart,  
Let me be the sweetness that lingers, even in your sorrow,  
A love too tender to ever truly fade.