Organizing our travels, subconsciously,
Or with intent, we confuse our own mind,
Different, ideas, plans, changing directions,
While not forgetting, the what if’s, and whys,
With the, I knew better than that, or I know,
I just can’t think of it now, I should have tried,
Now thinking about it, their story, was a big lie.
Then we head out in the world, acting like were,
Confident having life figured out, our **** together,
Knowing nothing last forever, soon clouds will form,
Drift our way, thunder, rain, called stormy weather.
Oh, we cannot forget the guessing, experimental,
Ideas, we are all inventors, on different days, then,
The story to praise our self, and often exaggerate, lines,
The final thought, we all have experience, answers come fast,
If things do not work out, like that simple picture, in our mind,
The three W’s, who, what, or why, messed it up for us, this time.



The Original: Tom Maxwell © 5/18/22 AD
11:00 am

Has anyone survived, that remembers 1969,
Everyone, was experimenting with drugs,
You’re still alive, you were supposed, to die.
Peace & Love were the greetings, with,
Bright colorful flowers to brighten up each day,
Sharing, looking for the cool, positive in each other,
Giving hitchhiker’s a ride, no one in that extra seat anyway.
The Wood stock concert, held in muddy farm fields,
That season the farmers, lost some yield, as a pond,
Was their bath tub, they passed around, and shared meals,
Touching each other,
Showed love, sharing a sandwich, or ****, was no big deal.
Hundreds of thousands, left their homes, to protest,
Their feelings, and what they believed, they stood up proud,
The way Americans should be.
Protesting the politicians, for picking, shipping young people,
Across the seas, to fight in Viet Nam, they didn’t know why,
Or believe, the day they left, the last time for many of them,
Their homeland, they would ever see. Events that change history,
Marijuana legal today, politicians taxed it, so now it’s good, ok,
Those boys that came back, from war in body bags, they still lay.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 3/30/2022 AD
4:20pm

As we travel farther on this trip, every day,
Following our decisions, without a clue,
Hoping we are heading the right way.

Never knowing if we discovered our purpose,
So many detours, and bumps, that can alter plans,
We can only hope we are heading the right direction,
Some- times we feel like we are floating, others,
Like we are sinking in quick sand.

Never give up thinking, the best part of your life,
Has passed, you never know the best day of your life,
Until you have lived your last.

The Original: Tom Maxwell © 1/01/2022 AD
5:00 am

I create a giraffe
from a paper craft
green was its colour
“Nice dinosaur”, they said
hmmm…
should’ve chosen red
or tan tinted paper

So I flip in half,
squash fold to a calf
It’s simply done with ease
“Nice baboon”, they said
hmmm…
I change again instead
to an island and palm trees

with mountain and valley folds
we unfold what creation holds
and recreate a world from disaster
we make a judgment fold
from the view they hold
hmmm…
if only change is as simple as folding paper

Walking through the rooms of my mind
Wandering until I find the right door
There are many doors to choose from with opportunities or consequences
Tempted to not open any doors at all
I am lost
Decisions I fear to make that may result in dismay
Which path should I take to finally liberate myself from this dilemma
What door shall I choose?
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