The sun warms my once chilled body Through pains of glass in a fast food pain glass window. The activity of life is artistic scenes rows of color Fresh Smells of exhaust The sounds of engines roaring The chatter of the morning customers The sweet laughed of children and grandfathers My heart beats with pride Simply seeing new visions of a day Out and about Alive and simply being a witness to the activity of life A visitor amongst the crowd Feeling the summer days start from the night. I feel truly alive and deeply spirited.
Those who choose to dig deeper must be willing to accept the dirt as truth and the mess as proof The only resolve is sharing tha loot with those who seek not to be aloof those who can recycle improve reuse Otherwise your pursuit becomes futile and vanity in roots That holds you trapped in a place that never bore fruit.
Like a Pirate Tied to a ship who's sunken into frozen winter drifts Yelling at everyone who passes by Uneffected Bitter Colder Less Productive An Ivory Tusk Burned in private on public telivision
What is gained in the retelling and redistribution of historic ills should always be measured by the need and desire to cultivate future enrichment and wisdom from the source not fashioned into a rusted sword to beheld in anger and revenge... That is to say the value in revitalizing history is never found in giving it teeth but giving it light and understanding.
So many times Trying to turn reasons Into rhymes Newest muse Desperate attempt Only to fall short As soon as attention Noticed Wide eyed girl Obsessed may I Lacking depth As soon as Emotions copied Or furthermore Replaced Gravity With weights and stools Climbing higher Reaching further Grasping air While the painted red smile Walked further north And the Abled girl With wide frames; golden bay Lingered patterned Against broken scooters and watched While I made a fool over feet In autumn leaves and new beginnings You held my arm While minds wander Of heavenly thought Of what it would be like To hold your hand And not mess it up With my idiotic tongue And presumptuous lip Always rushing Like one constant race When the rules Clearly states Walk not run Try to slow my tracking feet From making another big leap Intensively driven Pretty glass eyes girl Did you want me to admit my defeat?