Wishing you well
Grandchild of six
You left young
You had no sight
But learned to have fun
Resting at six
I'll see you another sixteen plus,
My young grand baby
My young one.

Lawyers crack down, with a thousand plus hours on studying criminal's-
The paradox of this study, half of the lawyer's and judges are criminal's-

Manipulation's
Allegation's
Sanitation
Strangulation
All frustration
Let out
On a
Seventie's delux
Strat.
Putting blues
On the screaming
Map.

Got to string out the guitar backstage
With Ben bridwell from the Band of Horses,
Drank a beer with J. Tillman of the Fleet Foxes
With Colin Richey I had a glass of wine
And me and my band for one hour shined.
I rocked with known rockers
Follower groupies,
Not to mention or did I?
With my second string player
I smoked a magnificent doobie.
What a week it's been
Three more days
Then coming back home.
A getaway to remember
A getaway well known.

What is love?

What is love?
A constantly asked question.
Some say love is just an emotion.
Sure, but is that all?
I say, love is a gift.
A gift from one heart to another.
It is something to keep and to cherish.
Not throw away like some worthless piece of paper.
It can be painful at time,
But for the remainding, it is beautiful, everlasting, and forever.
It is never selfish or greedy.
Mean or cheating.
What ever you do,
Never throw away love
when you come across it.
Whatever the obstacles,
Hold on tightly and never let go.

Chickadee do
Chickadee does
Chickadee kool
Chickadee hugs

Trying to tip toe silently across the floor of the bed.
While my wife sleeps in a state of euphoria
I sing to her
With the acoustic words,
Wake up please wake
Satisfying Gloria.

She sat there alone and cold and naked
I picked her up
Put her in a jar
I really didint think
The little sun flower
Would make it

Shadows moving to my door,
Pleasure seeking at my wife's
Feet, I explode into many
Different pieces, the kitchens
Taken by me with her sweets.
Strawberry goodin's
Apple pie loving.
Rock and rock on the record
Player, track number seven.
Kashmir, stairway to heaven.
Boogie with stu
Zeppelin to contend with.
Melody sound's
Loud we yelp out.
It's privacy
No knocking,
Keep the neighbors far-
And out, southern
Soulfood after the sweet
Devotion, the nights almost
Over, like a clover I'm lucky
In her promotion.

Mississippi, let the good times ramble
Biloxi, and Jackson
Flag raised high
Passion,
Tupelo rocking and roar
Hattiesburg for a show tonight
With my wife
My girl

Words can be silenced
Only for a lifetime
But my words will live on,
And my ghost won't be gone
Until night til the dawn,
My poetry will spill
Like ripened wine.
I'm everlasting
To everlasting.
My body may be passing
But my eternity is forever,
Like a perennial rosebud
My locution hangs with the
Good that's to come,
And hushed I shall not be.

Diddly doo, diddly dee, diddly sleepy
From kava tea, diddly will be with
Family.
Diddly do
Diddly did
The tea is warm
Sweet reminisce!

Love is not Just the saying of words
But the giving of one self
Love is caring
Love is daring
And most of All
Love is sharing

Love is not to live in fears
Love is not a matter of counting years
But making the years count

Love is
Telling, listening, understanding,
Respecting the truth and never pretending
True love does NOT have a happy ending!
True love does NOT have an ending!

Love.. some say it is blind
But I say
Love gives you a third eye
To make it easy for you to find
Who is worthy

Reverberation hit's the auditorium
Wailing notes and key's, guitar, piano
Chord's splash sound to the crowd
Leaving traces of burnt trails
Like the neighborhood crematorium.

Girdle, gurgled amplified effect's
Some do it for the love, other's for a check,
Fifty musician's. One stage to be the attention
Microphone's and xylophone tones rock out
To jam overtaking, to rock and blues ripping.

Ever since I was younger
All I ever heard from each politician was!
( I CAN make your land great again)
Well

It's been fifty plus years and I noticed something?
Over the last fifty years just in
My lifetime..

THINGS WENT TO HELL!

So for the upcoming hopeful voters

Vote for who you will
But still
Daily

Another soldiers being killed

Also,
Our land Will not once be great again.
Take it from mother earth
She's cursed in the dim.

Copius family
When my day's aren't so good.

Populous of the kisses
From my dandy, she make's bad better, and mean's understood.

Irksome Hassel's
I easily from these get upset.

Anger comes out
From word's not meant, the old guitar does pay the rent.

A shiny string , my wife who sings
Zero cool, to make me drool. Her vocalizing makes me fling.

Far out I tell her, she's a low down rocking mom
Rocking out, passing out, to Guinness green applause.

If I could flip back
The years I have lost
If I could return
To my mom and dad's cost.
The cost of their life
To give me my food
Us as young kids are to busy,
Seeking self-evident childhood truths.
If I could, I'd tell mom and dad one last goodbye
I found out the secret to living
When mom and dad died.
But dad did always tell me
Son, when your years get golden
You gain more Grey's, that means a sign of wisdom
So don't be afraid to be outspoken.
Dad was right
The more controversial the topic, the more golden are word's.
Thanks pop,
These words now to many will be heard!

Never stab
Another serial
Killer
In the back.
He always
Comes back to stab your back
Fifty times
Harder.

I have to take a plane
Further out west. To Seattle, high city, mountain dressed.
I have to take a plane
Jam out the western peaks,
This southern guitar will reverberate the club's
Jam session 101.
E. Spruce street,
A cocked back string for me
Is going to be the Wests loaded gun.

Master at his guitar
Rocking rod
A band of stars
David Bowie
Taking mars
Planet red
The dead and the doors
Fixated on the Chevy
The year was sixty eight
Lolo and I
Just kids on their way.
I always played for her
Jammed downtown and fifty first, and 26th
Fifth avenue
We kissed blank stare decency
Though not decent for our moms and dads.
We did the best with what we got
We had the best of sixty eight.

I was looking in the mirror
My worst enemy I had seen,
It was me and it gave me fear

She made a livin by lovin an giving.
She made her hourly wages
On stacks of lost pages
She had written from her
Many different faces.
One for night one for day!
One to sleep
And for morning stay.

Saw the world through
A telescope
Losing interest
Losing hope.

Share the memories
Share the fun
Give a note
That speaks on love
Pass a cloud
That puffs like smoke
Give your married one a kiss
And lift their hopes
If your not married
You'll find that one
One day.
Keep that hope alive
While the blue in the sky's
Will show you all goodness
You'll find a way.

Hall of fame
For the poets whom have left and came again, to those who
Write by the wire.
Cell phone
Tablet, computer
Laptop hot shop aquire.
For you who sleep and write
For those that write and fight
For you who are ordinary marksman like me
Hall of fame-your all in it you see.,
And the most incredible thing.
Is how incredible and awesome you all are
Poetry's greats! 2016s rockstars.

My daily motto
Your getting older now-
So why care for others gibberish,

Why worry for what's not to worry
I'm getting old, remember tommy?
Other's will always dislike or like you
Who cares and why worry?

I was a little squirt
The nerd, on mission street, long hair
Seemed ungroomed, cleaned pants, guitar
Posters in my room.
The dead, the doors, the who, the stones.
Concert tickets to make me remember
What it was like high and gone.
So many years, to remember what I've gone through
Now nothing's old no more.
Societies cheapened down to the new.

I won't be superannuated
I keep up with the time's
Though phone's and rock
And roll go together now
On musical preference
A handful for a dime.

I won't be monotonous
I won't be humdrum,
I won't be dull, boring
I won't be my own
conundrum.

I will be a genre of
My own accord.

Open, honest, raw. Jolly to be spread, music in head's of children in cement halls.
Beer drinkers will brawl, puke will fill cold stalls.
Christmas season comes, some make it a joke. Some light cigarettes, some make recompense, some kiss under the mistletoe, some lights will shine, while the season of the divine comes and goes, as in this coming season means a new season. For me of rock n roll.

In vicksburg national burial place of the dead

A silence cradles the land
Voices of the cemetery
Loudly utter, words
Stroking butter

The sound is not
Bland.

The union sleep
Still awake in their beds
The rain never falls
The rain is just as dead

The civil war hasn't ended
Cry the tears of seventeen thousand ghosts
These souls are remembered
By the vows that they took

Sleeplessly haunting
The visitors to their arrival

The dead more than living
Are awake to the grassy place so vital

The war still goes on
Though to us it has ended
These men are still seen in their
Clothing unattended

Their plans ended shortly

Their plans unamended

This place awakes the voices
Of the wars recommended

What's the musician without the music.
What's the music without the musician
What's the noise
Without its invention

It takes that one first step
To change the whole
Spectrum of your entire life.
Leading either to good or bad
Or wrong and right.

Crispy paper
Brittle pen
Where to start
Where to begin
Grain of gold
On blue ink bend
Sell for mold
A shackled stench.
Taking racks
Of ruby trays
Alas of now
Good coming day
Shortened phase
Scratched in dye
The color crimson
Of poesys side.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

This is a Robert Frost poem I forgot to have put this down

We make a livin off of hard work
Not sleeping

Images

Flash. Sound bang dash.

The drummer cracks
The drum stick to the drum. Summers mash
Acoustic hash, echoes pile the streets
Of the rocking gnomes.

Children left their home
For San Francisco's loan
Only to be cold
Wearied tired and sleepless,

Fed only the crumbs
Their guitars would bring.

Their still alive
But as for now
I won't forget
The death of the hippie.

A cherry pie, homemade by my wife. An apple pie, cut, opened, sliced.
An oven with a turkey, croutons sprinkled on western fresh lettuce, oven mitts, salad dressing, the works.
Lemon lime juice- squirted on the meat.
After meal deserts. Garlic bread, the tastes, butter smothered, my wife's lips covered, in icing from handmade cakes.
A little chill outside, the old fireplace burning. Wood hot the fire heated. Love making at midnight. Passion yearning.

Why marvel at materialism
It only lasts a while,
Why marvel at the apparent,
Apparent comes and goes
Out of style.

Why be awed by what's seen
It's only something temporal,
Why be wooed by physical strings
What's unseen has more credentials.

Why eyeball the papers only in writing,
Why not see the things more clearly with an
Insight sometimes frightening. Why only acknowledge
The things that you perceive, perception is a myth
When the door knocks reality.

Back home
In the comfort of my honey bun's arm's,
I'm embraced by her European face
I'm feeling a sense of gratitude, happiness, not growing old in age
Today I once again have turned the page
Let out my rage
To be great tomorrow.
Back from my trip
A memorable one,
Now my lips
Are polited
By my Honey bun's!

A catch of ocean perch
A poll to dip the water
A tide around the bin lurks
A fire for the ****
The fish heads to slaughter.
Beans, rice, watermelon
Cold beer ! Ice!
Talkive relatives
A night well spent

My rock and roll lines
Indicate my mind and body
Are in direct motion
With one
Another
Playing on
In depth
Surrender.

Molding my body
Like an airplane I take off into
The most beautiful horizon.

T shirt
Jeans, holes in the bottom.
Rockin stardom,
Fame
Guitar, no shame
***, drugs, rock and roll.
All comes with a price!
Word of advice
Stay away from the groupies
Who want to be the star's of the scene.
The yells and screams last
But for a moment
Your life last's eternal.

Magnitude of apple eyed kids
Trying to recreate the music on which I grew up with
Love them for it.
But nobody
Nobody can recreate
The music of my generation
Ta ta talking about my generation.

Steps steep of swindler's confession
A monstrous sleep that Pike's definition
Chard broil eggs on a winter of sleep

When there is love
There is nothing Impossible
When there is you & me
There is nothing hard or difficult
When there is understanding
There is no place for problems
When there is faith
There will always be hope
When there is hope
There will always be a smile
When there is a smile
How can tears ever exist?
When there is care
How can a heart be broken?
When there is a heart beat
There is always a way for dreams
When there is a dream
There will always be tomorrow
When there is tomorrow
How can we ever not meet?
If we ever not meet up again back home?
How can I live without you?
When there is no you
There would be no me

The trees give me shelter
When the rain comes on down! The trees give me comfort when noone is around.

The trees have a silence, holding in the earthing secrets. Tree's are not violent, they keep still, quiet, perfect.

The trees make love to the clouds, as baby raindrops they create, but the trees are dying like you and me, their feeling the worst of the universes fate.

She can make a man
Cry
She makes a man
Beg
She's awesome
Dynamite
She's a little baby bird
Head!

I was edgy
On edge
On her bed.
Losing my head,
Feeling dread
Lost instead.
She leaned in
Showed me sin
Passed a note
I smile, nod, grin.
Seventy-six,
A year to quick
She had me
I slipped.
Got high with the coolies
Rock and rolled
Forgetting me
And my wife's
Late night movie.
Met her back
At her up stairs pad.
Had her then
Still have her now.
And still I'm at her place
I got her hooked
From my jamming
With strings, and my ring
She's my honey bunches honey bee.
This is my reminiscence
For my sugary dream.

Warm and gregarious are the politicking politician's.
They give hand outs, they take back. 100 dollar plates,
1,000 dollar ties, 50,000 dollar rides, all seem innocent
Behind smiles and whitened teeth grinches. All want to
Win a race, based off of other young men's livelihood's,
Sticking poor in poorer places, down south we call that
HOOD! Small business hard working peasants are losing
Stores to affluent men, who get ****** under tables for
Favors, present day-galore. The fast food workers get an
Extra dime to spare their time, while trump, Clinton rehatch
Nixon, and communism's back in prime. Bernie Sanders about
To die, Ted Cruz speaks of God, while playing pokie-pokie
With the fallen ones mirage. Mansions get bigger, pockets
Decrease, no more Mary Magdalenes to be forgiven, beggars
Only beg for hard cash, not their food to eat. Life's become*
Moneyrichesjewels_you steal from me. I'll **** for you . don't worry uncle Sam's tax fund will keep you happy for tommorrow, don't worry, we'll get more money, from the wars and the next one we will borrow