Stopped at a red light,
Looking down the hill,
We wait to take flight,
We wait for the thrill.

Riding the green light wave,
Riding the small bumps and holes,
My bike and I roll down the way,
My bike and I roll as one soul.

The wheels turn quicker and quicker
While the air flies past like sweet sound.
My bike light continues to flicker,
While together we, in our music, are drowned.

There's a level of trust between us two,
We listen to each other and feel as one.
And yet there's a sense of mystery that we pursue,
That of machine and man having fun.

Donde está el hombre que nunca fue niño, el que nació sin la ayuda de llantos, con la educación ya cosechada y con los pies que caminan hacia atrás de donde el vino la luz.

Los años me han cambian preciosos fragmentos de la cara, con la suavidez y delicadez de un hoja en el agua.

Mano que toca la blancura de camas.

Ojos echos de lluvias de luz, un sol que me llama, mas cerca, yo siempre con el pero lejos, parado en mi tierra con brazos estrechos un arbol de ayer.

Two performers debating on a quirky time capsule stage

Evaporating the barriers of time with their improv

As the spectators breathe life into their routine with no turmoil

It was what was left.  Adrift at times and sometimes in route to nowhere..  It took billions and billions of us to finally realize it all.. Or at least it grew tired.. Among the expanse beyond,  it decided to one day stop here.. It built around it a tangent place..  A place it could touch and feel.. Through this place it grew at random..  No sort of real order..  And then the first 2 became many.. Many became to much.. And in the end the many tore down this beautiful tangent it created for itself..  It resides at the core of this place..  It has experenced love, and hate, hope and despair, happiness and sadness, laughter and anger..  Thus said the dead bodies float among the beautiful cosmos in this system..  Where it has tried many other times to try and get life right..  But it seems to be failing at the moment..  And the reason it is failing is because we have discovered it..  This beautiful heavenly machine at the earth's core.. This machine with a soul..  Our should I dare say with the ability to make one..  But the question is,  Who built this machine?

i am nostalgic
for the past,
the past that we hadt
and the almost
happy memories we
shared,
painful memories that
will always be caged
in my mind and heart.
and sometimes,
this nostalgia is too
overwhelming and
unabareable,
so i get the urge to
be sentimental for the
briefest moment and
wanting, needing a
time machine.
but then, again,
i need to face the ugly
reality, where you are no
longer next to me,
and you can't comfort
me like you used to.

The iron gear's teeth,
Like that of a wise wolf,
Grip and pull at it's brothers,
Leading them down an old road,
That circles back around to yesterday.

The man who marvels at the path,
On a warm winter evening,
Doesn't see anything but forward.
Man is not a wolf.
Gears turn in place.
Forward leads nowhere,
Within the Machine