Life is but a stopping place,

A pause in what's to be,

A resting place along the road, to sweet eternity.

We all have different journeys,

Different paths along the way,
We all were meant to learn some things, but never meant to stay...

Our destination is a place,
Far greater than we know.
For some the journey's quicker,

For some the journey's slow.

And when the journey finally ends,
We'll claim a great reward,

And find an everlasting peace,
Together at your door

Space rocking
Rocking and rolling
Guitar strolling
Sell out crowd
Speakers
Bang crack
Loud.

Merry Christmas to
All and to all a goodnight
On the other side of the world
Treat your family tonight right.
Treat them right daily. Enjoy
Your family gathering.
Put aside past mistakes, anger, and fallacy!
And enjoy anothers company around the dinner table.
Merry christmas from Tom! And rock and roll on.

We make truths, we make lies
Sleep with stories of wonder why's
We make money to make a living
We make sorrow for someone's giving
We make happiness, we create anger
Robots and destroyers of foes and nature
We make enemies, even we ourselves are one
We shoot pistols, stab with knives, we want fun
We make our living trying to make due
Life throws us burdens to face the day new
We are the choosers of our own free wills
We choose to give life or take it, we make our own thrills
We get our own fills from uneducated stupid boxes
TVs that are ran by fleas, step in politics
Call it daily proxy.
We are human, we are far from perfect
We are human
We are......   ......  .................. ...............
We lost our humanity, we've become animals.
We lost.

I made a vow the many years ago
She was made my wife
I was made her life
She did all
Others couldn't show

Shuffle the deck of the go time no time.
Finna clacks
All talk no bite
When it comes
To kryptonite.
Off the rocker
Jamming the set
Bang clash to the drums
Killing in set.
Kick the rocks
Sleepy johnson said behind the curtain
Age seventeen.
Age 51 now
Still playing my dreams.

We make symbols into meanings
Meaning into symbol's. We stand tall and crumble
We bow to be humbled, though pride stretches our necks.
A newer time, Gen-x. The grown and young both deserve respect though greed and balance and checks make wrecks out of the world we call our own . selfishness leave out the door, pick up
A letter, type a novel, or call on a phone.
Your loved ones await you. The time to be humble is now

Jam band
Three band man
Three guitar's
One hand
Killing with chord mania

She wore it better than all the rest
She wore the crown, of forgetfulness
But then at that moment
She remembered
February's love
In mid September.

To my wife of ten long beautiful years
We've dug the dirt
And shed some tears
But me and her have overcome fears
When I can spend hundreds more years
Just being with the woman of my plans
She's made me see
And made me be
A far and yet way better better man

Homemade wine, cherry pie, the earth below my feet, my wife with me to meet .
A bottled glass to sleep, in her arm's I'll keep.
Round and round we go
Dancing throughout the night's air.
Sensual satisfaction, to touch the moon we dare

I took an oath to my wife
I will keep that oath
Til the day I die
When she is sad
Or when we die
I'll still be the
Good husband
At her side.

I felt a different way today
A way I have never felt

I remember thirteen
When dad took me down with his belt

It wasn't abuse, just one good smack
Now father's no more even touch, or hold their child's hand's

Father's I see dont care as they used to
Now their to fixated on their job's and their woohoo's

Thirteen, the day when I cussed out pop's
He had his nineteen fifties outdated belt, I felt a quick pop

On my knees I dropped, cried only for a little
Afterwards a smile, dad realized I had giggled

Wiggling out of the sticky situation
Only young and dumb, a look complacent

But dad taught me something, even of myself
Dont take your child for granted. Show your child your love felt.

We create
Just to destroy

From the innocent time of twenty one
All the way now over the fifty mark!
I've realized,
Fifty plus, just enough
Perfect timing
Age stay's defining.
The moment's
The grand kids
The hellos
Goodbye's
The life's that we live
Every last second is surely a choice
By which we must
Make the right choice
With our Hubby's
It's only us who matter
Our voice.

Her silent eyes, blue topping, made me cry

I found the calm in the
Storm, when My wife
Held me. I felt the
Warmth of the
Morn.

**** out the wonder
From
Down
Under

Don't own nothing you can't claim
Don't claim nothing you can't own.
Claim yourself- it'll be you that
You own!

The tire changed,
Inflated, creepes in like a ***** to the air that was pouring out.

Dead or alive?
Can I choose both sides, or sway
The fences darkened edge.
Do I have to be living
To end up dead
Or am I already a beat up ripe
Corpse?

Do I have to
Have my heart burst into pain
To be alive again?
No need to be alive when I'm already dead with my sweet
Though my sweet is a treat of the utmost beauty
Shes my captivator my Suzie.
My honey buns and cutie.
Rock and rolling I will jam for her
Because it's moving.
And a fine wine to end up the last part of the night
As we caress eachother off
To the room.
Door's shut!
No knocking please.

Rocking
And
Rolling
Soothing
And molding
Strings
Like
Boeing's
Lifting up
Taking me
Far
Into the
Crowd.
Rocking loud

She welcomes me as the rose in her garden, she's the ultimate connective staircase to the heaven I climb on a continual basis.
She's my wife
The love that's right,
When I'm lost or found.
She is my basis.

They called him rebel
He talked the talk and walked the walk.
He was a man of his people
He sold what he taught.
He taught what he learned
He grew up with nothing.
Became friends with politicians
He found out their crookedness,
That's not up for his discussion.
He joined whimsy luncheons
No more time-cards or punch ins
He came out of nothing .
Something made something.
Now he lost all
Because he gave nothing.
Now he lost all
Now he's gaining something.
He's seeing himself.
He's learning his way's.
He's trying to be the man of the people again,
By taking his past self away.

Credit is due where the credit is due
The storm's are changing as the sun burst comes through
And the winter's seem hazy when you aren't my muse
I just wanted to say my wife, that I love you

A smiling face for a happy wife
A happy living for a smiling wife
A smiling home
With a cutting knife
To cut the meat, for the fire
A stove in the kitchen
Christmas ham prepared soon
For me and her's attire.

My sheets sing rock and roll
When the blanket covers over them. My blankets sing rhythm and blues, when the wife leaves. The sheets know its bad news. My telephone rings of longing for, when the door gets slammed in front of my face. The house crumbles down when erie silence is found. I miss my wife. Though it's only for 12 hours. I miss my wife. I miss her face.

The best feeling
Waking up and knowing your still breathing.

I didint want to be
A rocker originally. The Rock and roll
Lifestyle chose me

I was taken back to the age of twenty one
Just a few minutes ago, thinking
I was the son of a madman alcoholic who seemed to know only what living was while drunkened to his stupor. But I loved my dad despite his way's of binging and not coming back for week's.
Dad again to you I wish I could speak.

Sound and color match the human mind in the moon's scope of vision, wife in the kitchen, head buzzed by the choice and happiness of my family and the days couldn't get any better.

Take the lead. Be the difference
Bring good to the bad situation.
Pick up a talent
Turn the channels station. Make a difference. Help another.
Speak it loud. Love each other.
Do something Good
For those who hurt you.
It's all worth while
Special child

She's fly, she's fine, she's mine, all mine
She's hip, she rips, the guitar
In her death grip. She's fly,
She's fine, she's cool, girl of mine.
She's tall, to the wall, I make sweet
Love to her birdie call, married now
For many days, more to come I've paved the way. Thinking
Of renewing our vows, I'll strum the acoustic for her
At the wedding, with my speakers loud.

A poets
Words can spread
Like butter on a slithered knife-
What do we protect?
Hymns, other versions of mystery, misery lonely dreams, stealing
Copy writes. I'm a knight in a fight for my life.
Writing to touch the stony surface, the up above is perfect,And I'm loud enough to break the fortune teller's lying hand,
Just because I'm almost sixty doesn't meet my demands,
Though,
What is demand? And what is fate?
I have found well-planned Gray hairs,
Spanning my poematic plate,

Being grateful for the things to come and the things I have.
Being grateful for the good or the bad.
Being grateful, for all taught by my mom and dad.
Being grateful, happy or sad.
Being grateful,
For all the things great to come.

Living poetry
Poetry living
Going to make
This Christmas
Just like
Thanksgiving.
Goodies baked,
Guitar jammin'
Being the ship
Of my house
The captain.

Safety sits
On our lovers chest
I dive in deep
And make a nest.
How warm and ***** it feel's.

Make way make way
Rocking down
Stage 08.
Take the crowd
Click the string
Down she blows
The guitar sings.
Hendrix style
Johnny winters edge
Kiss wailing
Rocking the dead.

I tripped up on my
Own shoe, the ripple water was green and blue. black
Was the night on this toppiece shroom,
The seventies were a fine year
Of highness and tunes.

Rock and roll flare
The eighties beers
The seventies hair
Bellbottom bringbacks
In the new?

We make our hero's as God's

When in fact, those hero's aren't God's at all

Those hero's are a heighth and depth on

Which we wish to reach.

We can become those hero's we go after.

We can become the hero we seek.

So that the hero's we once chased

Can now chase us, and its us to them who will teach!

I held my wife's hand
The year was '86
Reagan was the president
We jammed.
To the rolling stones and styx.
We made love just below the stars,
The stages were all jumping.
Locking chest to chest
A bird in nest
Making eggs from something pumping.
My heart.
It created the shell, that our children have broken from
My kids are growing older
My poetry is silence mum's.
But now no more mum's the word
I'll rock it out on paper.
Getting older I look at the past
And go back to a time I savor.
86, the year of flicks
And times magazine.
86' wish you didint go quick,
At least I met my dream.
She made love to me
Under the stars we made.
Created kids from our birdie shell's.
Now I'm relaxed, retired.
Payed. Now I savor you
86', reminiscing the good old days.

Cool move
Collected in the maximum desk
Just below the nest
Where she layed her head,
**** complicated little woman.
She was mine in seventy six.

A pen on the shelf
A laptop for the head
And a padlette for good reads

Melody of the stardom
Bleeding out rock and roller ear's
The year of 79, Frampton,Kiss
Metal
Steers

My life
Like a lucid dream
I control the nightmares
And battle the screams
My wife is my comfort
My sweetie everything
My wife makes the terrors go
And the rock and roll I play for her
Bleeds.

A man doesn't make the wife
And the wife doesn't make who the man is,
The year's of learning everything about eachother and the love in between those years, are the things that make a couple who they come to be. Who they are

In your spine are
Private collection's
Of poetry rhymes
Tingling with word perfection's.

My harsh self
Is always to harsh
On myself.
Who saves me from myself
My wife

When the good gets going
Rock and roll's strings to me
Buzz, hum, and keep rolling.