picky
teaser
lota
pizza
flamingo
burnin'
gerhkin
wordin'
processi­ng
pro
gramme
lots
a
purple
tan
tanging
tongue
tear
stupid
deer
c­roissant
croissant
croissant


(are you here?)

rich
and
faming
silly
daydream
little
cupid
castle
cooped­
chicken
kickin'
malicious
software

(are we there?)

yet
cooky
suki
mikky
mopy
skiing
slopy
tear
out
control
­shout
doubt
pout
trouble
double
choc
tim
tam
ginge
sortafairy
tai­l
of
a
bat
rat
smack


(should we pack?)

and
CRACK
goes
ankle
blowing
soccer
flowin'
talk
tak
no
s­illy
silly
silly

all these
years

(should I be crying these tears?)


hello
again
a
pen?
why
thanks
some
lunch
punch
crunch
an
ankle
swollen­
ready
all

flail
fall


(?)

[Hook: Rihanna]
I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed
Get along with the voices inside of my head
You're trying to save me, stop holdin' your breath
And you think I'm crazy, yeah you think I'm crazy

[Verse 1: Eminem]
I wanted the fame, but not the cover of Newsweek
Oh well, guess beggars can't be choosey
Wanted to receive attention for my music
Wanted to be left alone in public excuse me
For wanting my cake, and eat it too, and wanting it both ways
Fame made me a balloon cause my ego inflated
When I blew see, but it was confusing
Cause all I wanted to do is be the Bruce Lee of loose leaf
Abused ink, used it as a tool when I blew steam
Hit the lottery, oh wee
But with what I gave up to get was bittersweet
It was like winning a used mink
Ironic cause I think I'm getting so huge I need a shrink
I'm beginning to lose sleep: one sheep, two sheep
Going cuckoo and cooky as Kool Keith
But I'm actually weirder than you think cause I'm...

[Hook]

[Bridge: Rihanna]
Well, that's nothing

[Verse 2: Eminem]
Now, I ain't much of a poet but I know somebody
Once told me to seize the moment and don't squander it
Cause you never know when it all could be over tomorrow
So I keep conjuring, sometimes I wonder
Where these thoughts spawn from
(Yeah, pondering'll do you wonders
No wonder you're losing your mind, the way it wanders)
Yodel-odel-ay-hee-hoo
I think you've been wandering off down yonder
And stumbled onto Jeff VanVonderen
Cause I need an interventionist to intervene between me and this monster
And save me from myself and all this conflict
Cause the very thing that I love's killing me and I can't conquer it
My OCD is conking me in the head
Keep knocking, nobody's home, I'm sleepwalking
I'm just relaying what the voice in my head is saying
Don't shoot the messenger, I'm just friends with the...

[Hook + Bridge]

[Verse 3: Eminem]
Call me crazy, but I have this vision
One day that I walk amongst you a regular civilian
But until then drums get killed
And I'm coming straight at MCs, blood get spilled
And I take it back to the days that I get on a Dre track
Give every kid who got played at, pumped up feeling
And **** to say back to the kids who play 'em
I ain't here to save the ******* children
But if one kid out of a hundred million
Who are going through a struggle feels and then relates, that's great
It's payback, Russell Wilson falling way back in the draft
Turn nothing into something, still can make that, straw into gold chump
I will spin Rumpelstiltskin in a haystack
Maybe I need a straight jacket face facts, I am nuts for real
But I'm okay with that, it's nothing, I'm still friends with the...

With time there's nothing visual. . .
Only things. . . due after some fact. . .
What we consider is most purest of things. . .
to some, it's just white hurricane crack. . .
I consider myself. . .
With time all illusions. . . set to the side. . .
Life is pure. . . without a blanket of time. .
We consider,. . . we all make it in rhyme. . .
Someway . . .or another. . .
The world is got so much more then to bother. . .each One another. . .
Then to share with joyful expression,. . . that time but allows us. . .
To the fullest extent,. . . time as illusion. . .
Can only make more then one self,. . . then the other one melt. . .
Getting spanked all around. . . All the crazies do us by belt. . .
What **** is the matter,. . . has time cut into your butter. . .
Greasing up all the streets,. . . boiling off all intelligence. .
Even speaker who shares with the world with poetic intelligence,. . .
thats love to the life. . . . with the time with his neighbors. . .
Such life is a streamer,. . . streaming through time, . . .
time of one's life surrounded by steam of another. . .
When we cram on one another, time is illusion. .
running over. . . creating a fusion. . .
one from another creating confusion. . .time is illusion. . .
To look at a counter, less fulfilment then want her. .
Because time as illusion. . . invades escape from this cooky confusion. . .
When eyes set bound to imposter, your dream in reality. . .
always forming when time is without a solution, . . .
just letting it go. . . unfurls deep worlds we've only just known. . .
beyond in time is the scape. . .where numbers be running. . .
a world out of shape. . . If time was a matter. . .
To please all our moods. . . this world would be great. . . but The world is so great. . .
all musicians we are, i promiss you know it. . .we flow around with each other. . .
But time has concealed her, to even distinct, the sound of the peaceful. .
Where sound is a stink. . .to even consider, where **** did we all go. . .
looking for clocks, on rocks and a mirror. . .
Time grieve, be a mirror. . For only as far as it goes, you'll never see her. . .
If time is illusion, our minds won't confuse her. . only to melt with the extra minute on clock. . .
To consider every moment,. . . . time is illusion. . .that every moment is just a matter of memory. .
In each other, and in some. . . Some parts are for bad, to refuse on the good,
and some parts are for good to refuse on the bad. . .
Positive time is our best, with time. . You forget its illusion when roaming galant and free. . .
Far from illusion hidden behind, there is a consorted of sorts. . . . misery. . Time is illusion

The Camp Cooky’s singin again outa tune,
  about turnin 60 today around noon

"What good is there in it?" I hear him say,
  and it got me to thinkin . . . seein it was his birthday

It seems bein 60’s got two spins to that tale,
  one frittered and wrinkled, the other covered in shale

The one who’s 60 if truth be told,
  is still younger than all those 61—to real old

In the campfire’s crackle of light I can see,
  how everyone younger, is likely dumber than me

So if my hands struggle with the knots and riggin fer sure,
  the knowin and the tellin to those younger’s worth more

Havin outlived many a cow horse, while lovin them all,
  the awnry and skitterish, the short and the tall

The summers ridin drag, and the worst winters mendin fence,
  with a slicker full a holes, and that ol dog with no sense

And while the cuttin and the brandin seems boring to some,
  it’s the importance of their nature and gettin things done

When the hats and the spurs and even the saddles are all gone,
  and the sun sinks over that last mountain, like in Dusty’s ol song

I’ll remember the good times, lettin go of the bad,
  and think back on the pards and the ladies I’ve had

Because just like for Cooky, it happened last year to me,
  and turnin 60 seemed ranker than any bronc could ever be

But like that new Visalia saddle the boss man said was now mine,
  I've found somethin that’s different, somethin gentler and kind

The speed and the strength ain’t been traded for free,
  and somethin woke up that I guess was sleepin in me

And as I yell to the wrangler “Cut me one gentle and nice”
  without loosin too much pride I ask, “Can you help Ol Jim
  cinch his riggin real tight”

Then once more in the dark I ride off in search of the herd,
  singin that one favorite cow song every real hand has heard

And as I inch up on the lead steer whisperin mellow and low,
  “Yippee ki yay, Ol Fella; you ready to go”

For maybe one last time we push North thru the dark,
  the sun still two hours off to the right of our mark

While in the distance a wolf howls, as that lead steer catches my
  eye, and in that instant I know I’m still needed—a long ways
  from g’bye

(Dewey Montana: Circa 1990) Read In Elko Nevada, 1993

Dissatisfaction from the real
Longing for the fake
Blurring the real and the fake  
A deep infatuation that excludes the real from my life
Longing for a lie
Cooky and charismatic
Reflecting ambitions and desires
Love and devotion taking it for granted
Suffering apathy for life
The inability to accept the new
Living in the past
Drinking my problems
Letting them out with the wrong people
Does God even exist?
Does he love me?

****** that's good poetry!
Consonants strike like hot cooking fat on bare skin
Nouns flowing; a Jimi Hendrix riff
..... Or maybe it was more like Clapton?

Digress

You're welcome.
Glad to know that when blood spills
Some lands on a page. Making...
A *******? Nah,
That's cliche and lazy assed
More like those Japanese ink paintings
Before those cooky Catholics showed up? Ish?
smooth and elegant lines in spiraled mountains and heart monitor tree Scapes

I'm Hercules on your own Queen of gods teet (congrats on the great ****** Milkyway!) spilling that good bluesy verse on the
W.
W.
Dot

I've bled you dry for years, "warrior poet"
You're welcome.

I've got an old tale just for you
Not that hairy *** hanging thing
Something brand spanking new
I am a little bit crazy
But once you know me
You will see how I fly with one wing

Now to the tail we shall go
Waving left and right, to and fro
Sometimes fast and sometimes slow
A lot says a tail, oh they bellow
But not with a voice oh no no
With the to and fro shows the flow

Now isn't this interesting
A tale of a tail, should I say more
What was I thinking
It gets thrown around and rubbed on the floor
Of what domain am I now sinking

You can't tell me? you don't know?
You've followed this entire show
Oh, it's ok I'm just cooky
Here just forget it all and have a cookie

Our love as glorious as a multi coloured butterfly
Came out of the Blues
With strength as Zion and I wonder what a lion
I thought I found home after i eat the cooky  
I came all out of my favorite melancholic cosmological way of life where I found peace within.
Come out of your shell you begged and I did, your abiku love really made a mark
Even the blind can see past your babilonic drama which I was myopic to.
Yes Helen of troy, was no human nor God. For her actions was of non
You I see no difference
Why plant a tree only to one day cut down.
OH Babylon goddesses,  you will never have a second troy.  For within me not far in you I would find my peace again.
So go tell Aphrodite of Cyprus I have a Zion.

I’m the cracks in the ice geist
The thief in the night light
The reason you can’t even go to sleep
When you’re hype Skype
The read it and write sleight
Of hand with that left heist
The best and brightest western spittin’-Spetnaz platoon type
The jungle, it’s coming
Oh, they want you there runnin’
That whole backwards crazy cooky communally-driven country,
That refuses to bow,
To the lion’s lie crown,
Because the tigress is the Ganga
And she’s watered this ground,
With cheetah archer princes blue
Through pacifistic aestheticians
Who still burn to the moon,
To feel her Saraswati peace of mind
Evoke the monsoon

Thank you for being Zany,
Amusing,
And a bit Cooky;

Thank you for being Superb,
Heartfelt,
Amazing,
Marvelous,
Amicable,
Ridiculous,
And always interesting;

Thank you for being Cool,
Awesome,
Intense,
Loving,
Energetic,
And of course Yappy;

Thank you for being Mild,
Idealistic,
Cranky,
Humorous,
Ambitious,
Lively,
And definitely Easy-going;

Thank you for being Magnificent,
Authentic,
Decisive,
Empathetic,
Loyal,
Intriguing,
­Natural,
And beautifully Electric;

Thank you,

All of you