The manner loudly sniff its nose,
The manner quietly respond,
Way of asking questions
And four and five.

When I turned eight,
Got rid of those manners,
Then still a teenager
And in the future engineer.

The habit of staring at ads,
The habit of doing ten things,
Late today, early tomorrow,
Once all as I wanted.

Have you seen the soft light of her eye?
The speckled dusts that line
the record sheaths
Spinning in the groovy beat of eternity

Somewhere high above the skies
veiled in wisps, her water-bearing cirrus
and looming presence of Cumulonimbus
running the deluge of thoughts into the brain
and giving the gift of loving rains

There she is, the lovely moon--
A pockmarked pearl in distant gloom
A momentary gift, spinning her disk
in shafts of light on fallow eyes

I have been long lost, in varied dream
The boundless world around careens
Empty towards the end of move
But I'll spend the rest of this with you

The moon, Earth's aeons of planetary dance
in loving poise of circumstance
Her writhing storm of life between
the ever-floating nodes of light

By Arcassin Burnham

Praying to the most high , you know that is the way,
Can't look for a way around it , find another way,
Pushing all the boundaries , girl you know you better slay,
Some people give a lot more and the others take,
Gotta be outside the box,
That is the way.
Looking for the upside down,
Ready for the chase.
If plan B does not succeed then go back to plan A,
Soul is trapped in limbo , let it find it's traits,
Say the **** grace , you better clean the plate,
But praying to the mosthigh , is the only way,
Gotta be outside the box,
That is the way.
Looking for the upside down,
Ready for the chase...

In such strange ways I strangely cannot understand
The horror of it all is we stay attracted to everything that hurts
We cling to it and never really learn to let go
So perhaps we do want happiness
But we also desire to keep the pain close; close enough to destroy us
Close enough to define us
Close enough to make us all feel a little less cold