if i am graced to have a daughter
i want her to be a fool, a beautiful little fool.

a fool in the sense that she dreams too big
i hope she runs head first into a multitude of hopes for what she wants to be
i hope she runs around with her little legs carrying her weight telling everyone that when she's ten, oh when she's ten, she'll be the queen of every nation and that the people will sing twinkle twinkle as a global anthem

a fool in the sense that she rushes into things
never looking before she leaps, just diving straight in
leaving behind a trail of mass destruction with her tiny hands all stemming from that beautiful little mind of hers

a fool in the sense that she so easily falls in love
from falling in love with a cartoon character to falling in love with herself
but not just falling in love, giving the love back onto whoever she deems it fit for

i hope she's a fool
because by being a fool she will live a life that meets it's greatest potential
and that beautiful little fool will be just like her mother
a fool for whatever life has to offer

All I
Am
And
Who
Ill
Be
B
a
  l
   a
    n
     c
      e
       d
      On a
    C h a i r  

Hung   in   space

       Silence
          And
Tranquil Peace

       Frozen

    In the air




Then a
       Shift
A slight
  Movement
     From the
L
  e
    g

And my, me, myself, I,
Ends-up-turned
On the floor, ego dead.

I don’t have anything against them flailing about,
With their commanding stare and whisper shouts,
Don’t get me wrong it’s not an easy job,
To keep all in time with a clean kebab,
And I don’t think I could keep a civil look when an oboe’s flat.

I think that’s when my brain would crack,
Just as when you break a twig,
First you feel the wood bend and give,
Then Crack! Like stubbing your toe,
Sudden pain and yelling, I’ve thrown my shoe at the tone deaf Oboe

Never noticed Time fly
Beautiful springs and autumns passed me by,
Fooling and goofing around with naive eyes
I didn't know how to whistle at twenty-five.

Life greeted me in a suit and a tie
And introduced you with a hue and a cry.
As lightning struck my heart, I swear I died.
And you were me and I was you till thirty-five.

You used to be beautiful as the sky.
Your fount of allure has run dry.
Your nagging has sapped my strength to be nigh.
You smothered my song at forty-five.

To mourn your demise I did try.
To be happy, I learned to live and let die.
Not giving a **** about wives and wifis,
I started whistling at fifty-five.

if i end up a coma patient,
give me a split second cremation
for the fire that burns the brightest
burns the quickest
And charge people tickets
make the event the biggest
bonfire festival and witness
my wonderful photo finish
I might not have been able to live life to its fullest,
but I was never worried about doing things I knew i couldn't.

~ Ommm ~

I'm attempting to find inner peace on the top floor
of a down town community hall.

                   ~ Ommm ~

I can hear the anxious siren of an ambulance;
its tone stretched out by the sound waves
that fail to keep up.

                  ~ Ommm
       Focus on your breathing... ~

For an apparently relaxation endorsing pose
right now I feel very uncomfortable.

                  ~ Ommm
       Look towards your inner eye.
       See the beam of bright, white light shine
       From your third eye.
        See the bright light...  ~

I can't see it, are there special opticians
For people who can't see through their third eye.
Maybe I don't have a third eye...
Oh no, I don't think I have a third eye!

                  ~ Ommm
         Focus of your breathing...
         Focus on the bright light
        radiating from your inner eye... ~

Okay I think I've found it, is that it?!

          ~  You should follow along
               towards the golden temple,
               Step forward.
              And with each step
              focus on the feeling
              of the fresh, green grass
              beneath your feet. ~

My right foot has serious pins and needles!
Don't think about it!
Don't think about it!

        ~ Your left foot is your Karma,
           Your right foot, your Dharma
           With each step focus on the feeling
           of the fresh, green grass beneath your feet... ~

My Dharma has serious pins a needles!
Ouch, ouch, ouch!
Don't think about it!
Don't think about it!
                              
                            ~ Ommm ~

I need to move but I don't wanna disrupt my zone of inner peace.
Ouch, ouch, ouch!

                      ~ Step into the pool
              and feel yourself melt within it.
         And lose the sense of having ****** form
                 Float into the nothingness.

                   Drift off into the water...  ~

I wonder if there are inner eye lifeguards
For the little imagination people who can't swim.

              ~  Focus on your breathing ~

Pins and needles!
Ouch ouch ouch!
Maybe if I wiggle my toes a bit...

       ~ Gradually come back to the sense of having a body.
                 Feel yourself being bought back to life.
                                  You are re-born. ~

Re-born?! Well, if you say so but
My right foot is proper dead right now.

                             ~ Ommm
                   Keep gently breathing... ~

And now I better brace myself for
the many uncomfortable, complicated poses
that we will manipulate our bodies into...

                             ~ Ommm ~

That distract us temporarily from the manic metropolis chaos
that's buzzing right outside the windows.

                               ~ Ommm
          Stretch out and breathe in that beautiful prana ~

The dusty air, choked with car fumes
and the diesel engine hum of the noisy dockyard nearby.

                                 ~ Ommm ~

You run,
Chasing after none
There is no fear in your momentum,
Not a bitter thought once fallen.
Your memories are new
At thirty-two, I have made a few.

You will run,
Chasing after some.
There will be fear in your momentum
Many bitter thoughts once fallen.
Your memories are new
How could I forget, mine are too.

You...
The light I never saw
The morning of despair
The remembrance of a soul so fair
A world of forgotten happiness
And a day of burning desire
Countless light reflections of everything we missed
And thoughtless chatter, I'd admire
And if it was still lacking
I'd take photos of us too
Paste them in my dreams
And keep them just for
...you

An announcement, dear spoons, it has come to my attention,
That knives are in fact the superior invention,
They cut and they dice, and they bring us sliced bread,
While for spoons, I'm afraid there's not much to be said,
They're good for the stirring and sipping of soup,
They can help you eat anything; well, as long as its goop,
They can't even manage to show a proper reflection,
Try gazing at one, it upends your direction,
Oh spoons, you buffoons, you round-bellied fools,
Try slicing, not scooping, you inelegant tools,
Knives dress to ****, while you spoons are such slouches,
And knives are quite charming; you lot are all grouches,
It's clear that knives are the superior race,
They'll put you dumb spoons back into your place,
At the bottom of the drawer, way down with the forks,
Alongside the can opener, and a screwer of corks,
You're the **** of the table, I despise your skullduggery,
That's why I declare knives the finest of cutlery.