most are prepared to live in peace with all others
and those that do not know nothing about love
except the fact they see love practised everyday,
and still refuse to believe in its conquering reality
so consequently all their malice boils like a volcano
targeting others gifts, secretly jealous, and impotent.

In the labyrinth inside my mind,
Sometimes my thoughts get lost.
I search down long dark tunnels
Where old memories are tossed
Like antiques in the attic, that
I can’t bear to throw away
Saved forever just in case
I need them again some day!

And as I age these memories
Show up at the strangest times
But there is no one there to talk to
So I turn them into rhymes
And hope some day that someone
Might discover them and see
That my poems are about my life
My poems are ‘bout me!

When age finally blocks the tunnel -
I no longer can break through
And I’m trapped inside with memories
And nothing left to do
But stare out through the window
Or at the closed front door,
Know I’m still inside the labyrinth
And I wish I’d written more!
Phil Lindsey 9/14/15

The wind is in the East
coming from Russia

Thankfully no one nation has tried to make a claim on the wind, as yet,
and erected a fence all around it.

Air consumers with combustible brains
a spark of life in a fragile out of date heart
keeps you ticking along this weird wonderful life
until the day you stop, and shut down your vitals