Through and through,

I do , I do, I do Love You,

None the less and all the more,

Without need of test and forever more.

Of this love we all do implore,

Of one another and of our selves with out need of score.

Shall we achieve such embrace of unconditional trust,

A love of its fullest in sincere kindness without lust or covetous?

Then the only question to answer burst is who shall do this act of us all first?

Yet has this act not already been played, very much so and on center stage of the very front page?

And of this then it seems, as an actor lived and died to live again, then what must it mean to be this of the rewritten string, to be up front upon that very stage and actor out alone is it not this needed act of you in your very home?

So we fare to dare it so means, that due to the best of parts played in its full scene, that we now have a sense of need to become this part and do the hardest play in its dearest deeds, to be that very one, that is central stage front page of the very deed you and i and everyone else so dreadfully need.

So of this do we not see to clear the eyes of the sleep and cries, to sound out the murmur so faint in our voices voiceless disguise, to render ourselves the first in the main act, to in fact be that which shifts the balance back, and so slightly and at times stumblingly unsightly in our no one is ever attractive when crying, that we chance the whole of our being and do as we all know to be the right thing, and love through and through in the center of the very universe of all our realities, by taking that very chance right there in your families living room.

For all your world is that of mine own, and my dearest friend I have never nor you, stood alone, I as you have been by and by and by mine and your loving and broken side.

Thank you for holding my hand in my darkest times as a man did so long ago when he took center stage , front page of the world dieing eyes, and gave us our desire to try back in a single plays act, and one that took and gave us all our lives back.

Whether you agree or not, is not the posted onslaught, it is the understanding that has its truth, you my dear friend are the center and the root.
So fear not and know this, Through and Through you have all that the world needs to be its best, just love all and yourself none the less and all the more and we just might find a way to feel and live a good sight better forever more.

To traverse the terrain of logic, common consideration in mental expectation and in keeping the public's entertainment of notifications well placed in unscripted floor plans, not to mention the exuberance of those oh so willing to test the nerve of the pulsing jokes taunting the core value of the herk a ****.

The traverse from the need based , Food, Housing, life and limb to the higher minded considerations of abstract thought where a ball is a call to rise ones ability to suspend disbelief we find it not not unlike, making a tighter turn than the bad guy can muster up to with stand or believe possible to them and their well oiled machine.

So in this we find a random house effort to win the masses with a check to the mental and emotional standard barer in such guide on's as were a flag upside down and flowing haphazardly in verse  all reverse and running away from the very battle for which they have trust upon the deer hearted and needy of us all.

And we smile and say, Welcome to the party, wish you were here, but then again  we are comfortably numbed to the pains for which you have cast such doubts upon the soul of our matter. and you no longer matter and we don't mind that bad folks don't matter yet can forth of july the lake of fire and fry.

As we the good folks smile and see that turning such a tight turn can cause the bad folk pause for concern.

Smile, they hate it when we turn their scripted page, like it was a popup book discussing daily wages.

may a time come that all of those good friends that i have not met yet be in my life daily and forever more in all the best ways possible. i know i am not alone, and soon enough none of us shall ever feel alone again. i care not to please everyone, yet i am compelled to believe that there are many good people that find me favorable and not an embarrassment, yet find me as they, wonderful, beautiful and worth knowing and having around. may such a time come and we finally are able to live life for all its worth.
i find that you , out there are worth it, even though i have not your name nor face to know and gaze upon. i continue to believe and know that you do exist.

With this gentle wind flowing slow,

thoughtfully,

even more so mysteriously.

The mind can only spin in it's imagination.

Soulfully soaring through its thoughts, gliding, drifting, as if in a daze.

Reminiscing times not yet remembered.

As if this mind holds in its tender, delicate hands, secret things of wondrous, soft, sweet, yet thick, secure times of playfully enormous spirit.

As i ponder my own times.

I find that i have experienced such feelings in everyday movements.

Yet they are so thin in comparison.

As a child these feelings seemed so much closer.

And as i reflect i find that even in this wondrous time of sweet softness and livid day dreams,

the soft memories of my youth are the fading memories of my mind, carefully enacting all of my mysterious surroundings.


Enwrapping me, surrounding all that i could see, as if to hold all that existed.

As if all things were sopping with this thick universal ooze that made all things come alive.

And yet i am left here with only the truth that this beauty of movement is the one thing that escapes all of us, yet we see it when it seems to happen, we think we sometimes seem to feel what is majestic in intensity.

But we are never really sure.

So as i sit here on this hill, i only know what thousands must know.

In loves fleeting moments of rushing life, free in its time and thoughts.

One must ride theseflows as a river moves when flooding a ****** creek, widening our limits, lengthening our lives, digging us deeper into our mothers womb.

For when the flood fades we are all left open, our naked bodies showing the world how empty we feel when our hearts no longer are full of the one thing that made us.

And we are all left only hoping for the promise of another spring.

late 80's early 90's
Ricci Moon Scott

Loving lackadaisical light,

warm fuzz on finger tips,

shady shaggy sounds,

giving birth to slow afternoons.

Wondering softly smooth through pools of blue-green, drifting among daisies and daffodils.

Feasting minds eye on deep blues and auburn reds dusted with rust orange yellows.

Holding clover blooms between my toes,

sensing time's low tones.

As i reminisce " Franks Favorite Chair".

Drifting through universal skies,

wondering of dreams glowing bright in flight.

Slowly feeling the lifting sounds of gents in suits serenading fair maidens in the unseen deep of swaying long waves.

Pondering movements sensed only loosely in these lands revolving with our great circle.

Kissing our hands in time forgot,

when spirit roamed full textured in voids of touch.

Dizzying in full pride now,

for mine is our water,

as deep as the oceans heart and vast as our mysterious Great Star Nations.

Aug 20th 1995

Ricci Moon Scott

Something special seems to be in short supply these days.

It seems finding my own is the hardest thing i have ever done.

The scary thing,,, What if my people come out of the wood work,
will it be too late for me?

Will i be so far gone that i refuse them out of fear?

Fear that i am no longer able to except what is truly a part of me?

May 1995. Ricci Moon Scott

There comes a time when all good efforts render our souls wounds laid bare.

there comes in our lives, a moment so long lasting and ever never failing to stretch on for an eternity, that one finds each minute second a lifetime for which to wollow and contort in our self abuse and humiliating pains.

In these moments of seeming endless script that dictate that we find everything wrong with the world of our making, we seem to realize the saddest value of self being remanded to the simplest of sensations , sensations devoid of gratification yet sweet and addictive in some parts as to understand what it is we are doing in such dismal environments of self.

These times when all of our best laid plans and stumbling prized findings, of unfolding adherence to what we perceive, as the world in its synchronic and dumbfounding way of expanding all we thought we knew of this place for which we act like we are the masters of.

and we find we feel like failures no matter what we find about us, supporting us, within us, without us, and opposing us.

Yet even in this seeming depressed and down trodden state as one would think to find the feelings too be, we find rebelliousness a constant even when dealing with ones self.

See, though I find myself a failure to many differing and inconsistent degrees in life and all I tried to accomplish, I found myself far more willing to lash out and strike the world with my own sense of abandonment, accusation and bewilderment, though knowing that it be justified and unjustified at times in its quantum 1,0, and both degree, I realized that I felt this way to myself as a constant.

See the truth is , I never failed in anything I was trying to do, yet feel that I failed everyone by even attempting to do anything. I knew nothing and know even less these days to some important point of reference lost ages ago, while seeing clearly the confusion cast like a net over the world and the confoundment over us all, though my intent was for all others to see what I could not.

Seems that I some how could never edit myself as diligently as others ensured to edit all that is of me that the world would ultimately see.

Seems when I would speak of things and venture out of the box and attempt to render a graphic image of mental consideration so as to convey and extrapolate what is vague and blurry to ones self for it to become a vast painting that could be envisioned and embraced for you and the world to expound upon, I was seen far less accurately and far more foolishly than I figured motivating to anyone, much-less to the soul of any matter for which we water the hearts of all good people to find a well spring to matter the most as to find the best avenue of approach, and thus solve in resolute that which we failed to consider raising up a flag pole to salute.

So do consider that even when I dash about all rash stricken and dashing the best efforts of mine enemy and supporters alike, I truly have attempted to cast a complete and rounded full spectrum light upon the very flaws and perfections of the you in me, as if to ask you to hold strong and truly the deepest regard for yourself and those you might not have found worth in before bumping into this nobody of me.

I am no hero, I am no wonder of the world to gave upon, nor am I a waste of time or effort to see the beauty in me, see, no matter what you feel you find in me, I know I find it in you as well as me, and I am truly doing all I can to see past all of my failings, so I can be reminded of all the good things of you in me.

Soon I will raise and be less broken and beat to a ****** pulp, and you just might be proud to see the you of me, and till then, please remind your self, you were worth it to me, to stand fearless in front of the world and all of the overwhelming things that opposed us in this endless and confusing happenings that make up this unending situation unfolding before us all.

I am a King, and I know this because I know you are as well and I can see that in the me in you, question is, can you see that in the you in me.

You were and are worth all this pain and cost that has defiled all I have ever held sacred.  SO try and not give up on what you think is worth it.

Chin Up, I am still here and working on it all, just reeling from some serious blows to the soul. smile, you are still beautiful you know.