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Andrew Rueter Jun 2017
I quivered in the arena
As thousands of people screamed at me
All because I wanted to touch the *****
I guess I play a different football

Those Hartford wailers weren't there
When I was on the ice
Trying to play goalie to the problematic pucks
All I had was my blocker
And all I could do was deflect

Yet those same people
Try to convict me in the tennis court of public opinion
Just because I wanted to make my own racket for a change
Is that really my fault?
Why should I listen to these people
When zero and love have the same meaning?

Am I beholden to those
That wanted me to kneel in the endzone?
They're the people who separated me from myself
Now that I'm running back
They're claiming they were my safety
But there was never a decent referee
Only people that wanted to see me in stripes
But here's the kicker
I'd forgive them all their past interference
If they'd just stop challenging my plays now
The tiny town's
talented tailor
swiftly sews silken suits,
in his shop he plays the Wailers,
Bob Marley fills his boots.
Beside his shop
sits Susie's Sushie,
she serves him lunch
every Tuesday,
he leaves a tip because
she treats him well,
he's got a crush
and she can tell.
After lunch
it's back to work,
measuring here
and stitching there,
everything is done
just savoirfaire.
All the town folk
say he is the master,
he smiles at this
and works all the faster.
Then on the corner
the clock strikes five,
with the last suit hung
he says enough of this jive.
He shuts the light
and locks the door,
nine bells tomorrow
he'll be back for more.
it’s the wailing ones that always crack first
you can hear their cries any time of the day

wide eyed and stumbling, they walk among us
hands, either shaking or ****** mice
hiding amongst arm and tightly knotted torso

you won’t watch it happen
you don’t get to see the shatter

it happens with a horse’s tail dipped in cement
dragged along a body filled trench
type of movement that required
a lot of dead people

the mothers listen to it
unwilling ear glued against keyhole
unwilling hand held in the ambulance

the doctors try to explain how the wailing
fluctuates between needle piercing eardrum
and icicles shoved in mouth-holes
and the mothers cannot listen to it
In the 2nd grade
a puppy love
crush on the
teacher steeped
deep in me

to my delight
her clear eyes
recognized the
promise of a
chubby boy
in all of his
quaint simplicity

her gentle
voice, friendly
and firm, filled
with caring instruction

the giddy class
attuned to her fresh
brunette bouffant, bunned
and perfectly coiffed,
speaking style and
youthful whimsy,
not a strand of hair
out of place

her svelte figure
flowed through
classroom isles
filling the space
with scented graces
of prescient carnations

that afternoon she
was abruptly called
from the class

when she returned
our beautiful princess
was sobbing

she concealed her face
then turned her back
on the class, crying
in a corner to dismayed
blushing blackboards

regaining composure
she turned
exposing her tear
stained cheeks
and dissheveled hair
to an unsettled class

“the President
hurt his back” she
announced.  “He’s
in the hospital.”

Whoa… I thought,
the President hurt
his back.  That's
terrible I surmised.

our beloved teacher
dismissed us
and resumed her
tearful grief

when I arrived home
my mother was
sitting on the bed
weeping.  “President
Kennedy is dead”
she blared.

my mother’s rumpled
housecoat and
tousled hair flattered
her flowing tears and
anguished sobs.

the tears of women
marked the end
of many puppy loves that day


Bob Marley & The Wailers
No Woman No Cry

Oakland
10/15/13
jbm
The tiny town's talented tailor
swiftly sews silken suits,
in his shop he plays the Wailers,
Bob Marley fills his boots.
Beside his shop
sits Susie's Sushie,
she serves him lunch
every Tuesday.
He leaves a tip because
she treats him well,
He's got a crush and
she can tell.
After lunch
it's back to work,
measuring here
and stitching there,
everthing is done
just savoirfaire.
All the town folk
say he is the master.
He smiles at this
and works all the faster.
Then on the corner
the clock strikes five,
with the last suit hung
he says enough of this jive.
He shuts the light
and locks the door.
Nine bells tomorrow
and he'll be back for more.
Some thing light with the intent to make a smile.
Big Virge Aug 2020
THIS Piece of Poetry...
Is To... My Mans'... !!!!!!

Whether GOOD or BAD... !!!

RESPECT To BADMan...
NOT For Being BAD... !!!

But For Staying TRUE...
To Their TIGHT CREWS...
Who Make STRONG MOVES...
That Have NO USE For KILLING Feuds... !!!!!!

Bad Man Who KNOW...
About How... " Tings' Go "...
And KNOW The Coup...
So DEAL In... TRUTH... !!!!!!!!

Men Like THESE...
Are A... Minute FEW... !!!!!!!!!!

So PLEASE Believe Me...
The Respect I Give Is RELATIVE...

Because The TRUTH Is THIS...
That's NOT How I Live... !!!!!!!!!!!!

My Mans' Have To EARN...
RESPECT From BIG VIRGE... !!!!!

So DON'T Expect Respect...
Because You've DONE... " Bird "...

RESPECT To My Mans'...
Who Use CONSCIOUS Words... !!!
In A... Hip Hop Stance...
or... Song FILLED Verse...

RESPECT To Charlie Parker... !!!
KEEP Flying... " Bird "... !!!

Through The Fingers of...
Todays' Jazz Herds... !!!!

And...

RESPECT To My Mans'...
In... Reggae Bands...

RESPECT To... " Rootsmans' "...
Who.... OVERSTAND'....
The Way... " Dem Ah FEAR !!! "....
When We Come NEAR... !!!!!!

ESPECIALLY The Mans'...
Who SEE... " Tru' Dem' Plans "...

I Gi Dem' My RESPECT,
til the day dat' me DEAD !

But Let Me QUICKLY STRESS...
Men Like THESE I Do Suggest...

Are RARE Like Policies... !!!
That ALLOW Such Men...
To Speak FREELY About REALITY... !!!

Men Like... MARLEY...
PETER TOSH and BUNNY...

The Wailers... THREE... !!!!!!!!

Who Chose To REACH OUT...
To The People With BEATS...
Musically FILLED With Conscious Speech...

Like... " BURNING SPEAR "...
For Di'... " Man Up In The Hills "...

A Place Where My Mans'...
Could TRULY... CHILL... !!!!!!
And NOT Adhere To...
... Government Will... !!!

Time Will Tell If Life's HARD SELL...
Will Let My Mans' EVER Live Life WELL... ?!?

This Piece As I've Said...
Is To... " My Mans' "...

Those Now DEAD...
In.... " Foreign Lands "...

FIGHTING The Fight...
And Taking A STANCE... !!!

But It's... ALSO To...
My STRONG Womans'... !!!
Who NURTURE Children...
And Give Guidance... !!!!

My Mans'... In TRUTH...
ALREADY Live Cool... !!!

And KNOW WHO They ARE...
Because They LISTEN To Views...
WISE ONES'... Impart... !!!

They're QUICK To Diminish...
What Weak Ones Start... !!!

But Do This With...
The... BEST of Hearts... !!!

But... WATCH Your Step... !!!
Because What Comes NEXT...
If You DISRESPECT...
Is... SERIOUS STRESS.... !!!!!!

So Show... RESPECT...
When You Are Around Them... !!!

Then MAYBE... Yes... ?
They'll Be Your Friend...

BETTER That I Suggest Than Get Them VEX...
And FACE The Prospect of... DISTRESS... !!!!!!!!!

My Mans' BELIEVE ME Are TRULY God Blessed... !!!
And DON'T Retreat From Lifes' TOUGH Tests... !!!!

Their BEST DEFENCE Is Common Sense... !!!

Which Formulates Their Arguments...
So YES This Piece Is Just For... THEM... !!!

NOT For Pounds Or For Cents... !!!

It's... Just For THEM... !!!
And For Crews Who Deal In TRUTH... !!!

If I Don't Know You Just Do Your Do...
Then If We Meet We'll SHARE Some Food... !!!

YES I Mean... VIEWS... !!!
Then I'd Imagine We Will Be COOL...

This Is For... " My Mans' "...
YES... ALL of YOU... !!!
Who Choose To INCLUDE...
Rather Than..... EXCLUDE.....

And Who Choose To Receive THIS Poetic Piece...
Which In Truth Reflects Love For HUMANITY...... !!!!!

And ALL Lifes' Tests YES.... REALITY.... !!!

A Part of Our Lives...
From Which We CAN'T HIDE... !!!

We're ALL Humans... !!!
So Why Divide... Our - Sel - ves... ?!!!?

I DON'T Believe...
That's Going To HELP...
MAINTAIN Our Health... !!!

My Mans' AREN'T The Ones...
Who'll BURN In... " HELL "... !!!

Because My Mans' DON'T Have...
THOSE...... " Funny Smells "...... !!!!!!

I Wish Them WELL...
WHEREVER They Dwell... !!!

I'm Sending Out LOVE With My Writing Hand...
Through THIS Poem I've Used To EXPRESS...

........ My Love And RESPECT........ !!!

To Those Who've HELPED Me...
Through Their WISE Guidance... !!!

THIS Piece of Poetry...

Goes To................................. ....

......... " My Mans' ".........
Listen Here : https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/my-mans
nivek Nov 2017
one depth of helplessness
one acknowledgment
one letting go
one honesty
one acceptance
one trust
one heart
one love.
Madeleine Toerne Nov 2015
Dad,
How come you gave me all your old Bob Marley and the Wailers records, you listened to when you were sixteen and fixing cars, humming "emancipate yourselves from mental slavery?" You grew pillars of brussel sprouts, you got a rain barrel, you used grease to run a 1971 Mercendes Benz, Benzo-Lorenzo, you kept the wood-burning house so cold Mom threatened to take us to the Holiday Inn and make you pay for it.  No matter how much I wanted to go to a hotel (play pretend in my head, little girl-glamor pretend) I would plead with Mom.  We are fine, we are fine. I'll put a sweater on.  See, I was a little sustainable champion. Stoke the fire, it smells so good. I appreciate warm so much. Inside I feel proud, like, my dad prepared me to live in a punk house. God, I wish I could be you watching me when I was a little girl. At Walbridge Park, those little pastel coiled spring animals.  Mulch or little pieces of rubber? I like those little squishy pieces of rubber. I want a boat, a fishing boat.  I taught little kids how to fish this summer.  I kept a straight face, but I was beaming on the inside. Careful, considerate, thank you notes, visiting old ladies, kindness, loss of God, reading the Bible, reading everything, Swedish, cooking chili and pozole.  Where did you learn to cook pozole?  I want to know how but I am afraid to ask.  I don't want a speech, I just want clear cut directions, with love.  Just clear cut directions, with love.
The tiny town's talented tailor
swiftly sews silken suits,
in his shop he plays the Wailers,
Bob Marley fills his boots.
Beside his shop
sits Susie's Sushi,
she serves him lunch
every Tuesday.
He leaves a tip because
she treats him well,
He's got a crush and
she can tell.
After lunch
it's back to work,
measuring here
and stitching there,
everthing is done
just savoirfaire.
All the town folk
say he is the master.
He smiles at this
and works all the faster.
Then on the corner
the clock strikes five,
with the last suit hung
he says enough of this jive.
He shuts the light
and locks the door.
Nine bells tomorrow
and he'll be back for more.
Jason Feb 2021
"If you get down and you quarrel everyday,
You're saying prayers to the devils, I say.
Wo-oh-ooh!
Why not help one another on the way?
Make it much easier
(Just a little bit easier)"


-Positive Vibration - Bob Marley, Bob Marley and the Wailers
Bob Marley, Bob Marley and the Wailers

I looked but Bob Marley was not in the classics section.
Mike Hauser Oct 2018
Has anyone else noticed that the world's on fire
Kindled by the wickedness of man
Strike a match, watch it catch,
fan the flame, add some gas
Do we really need to give Satan a hand

As it all goes up like a funeral pyre
Will there be anyone left to mourn
Professional Wailers are hired
with crocodile tears to cry
Just don't tell them the truth of what's going on

Be careful of where you walk these days
Don't step on the burning coals
That are tossed aside
out there to disrupt daily life
Do those with the matches even know

That the world they are burning is their very own
Caught up in their winds of change
Being blown this way and that
till there will be nothing left
Of what normalcy once remained
Mike Hauser Mar 2014
There's not a whole lotta nothing
That can be dug out of the grave
Of this life's buried problems
Of all our past mistakes

You can chisel out the tombstone
Making room for all the dates
Of the didn't go the way we planed
That in the dirt now lay to waste

Call in the Pallbearers
To shoulder it all
To help carry the burden
Of where you left off

Hire professional wailers and mourners
To cry for the loss
But can you really afford
Such an extravagant cost

When all is said and done
The last word the preacher will say
Is there's not a whole lotta nothing
That can be dug out of the grave
I woke up at 2 this morning with the first couple lines going over in my head, went back to bed every few minutes getting back up for more lines till this poem finally left me alone...I'm tired and a bit psychotic for dreaming rhyme.
nivek Oct 2018
One depth of helplessness
one acknowledgement

one letting go
one honesty

one acceptance
one trust

one heart
one love.
nivek Feb 2016
This is my Kalashnikov
fully loaded
with overkill on my mind

Lennon sung "Give Peace A Chance"
Bob Marley And The Wailers "Redemption Songs"
"A Slow Train Coming" Bob Dylan

This is my Kalashnikov
fully loaded
with overkill on my mind.
Big Virge Sep 2020
Bob Said These Words...
So... " OVER - Stand "... !!!

"You can't tell the woman, from the man ?"

And NOW These Words Are RARELY Heard...
Because The TRUTH Is Now IN VIEW...

Transgender Education...
For The Next Generation... !!!
While Peoples' Confusion...
Is Now... POLLUTING...
The World We're Using... !!!

So MANY ABUSING In Institutions...
Where It's CLEAR They Are CONFUSING...

Their Actions of... COLLUSION...
With Those of... AMUSEMENT... !?!

... " Midnight Types "...

Work In The... SPOTLIGHT... !!!
Cos' They Like To Moonlight...
AWAY From....................... "sight".....

You Have To Wonder...
What's In Their Minds...
As They Put ASUNDER...
What's Wrong From Right...

Marley Used MUSIC...
Like These People Use FUSES...
To... IGNITE Midnight...
With Light Personified...
As Confusion In The Heads...
of The... " Midnight Types "...

The FREAKS Who COME OUT...
In The... Middle of The Night... !!!

Because of Who They Be...
When They Look INTO The Light... !!!

The LIGHT That Resides...
In CONFUSED POLLUTED Minds... !!!!

The... " Midnight Types "...
Who Ride Like Knights...
Who Have NO SIGHT...
And Have NO TIME...

To ENERGISE... And FREE Themselves...
of The Passengers They FIGHT... !!!!!

The PASSENGERS They CANNOT Quell...
When DARKNESS Meets Their Light...

Within These Simple Messages...
Are HOMAGES In Rhymes...
To One of Our GREAT Messengers...

... " Bob Marley "...
" Truth and Rights "... !!!

These Words Are Simply...

....... " Vestiges ".......

of What He Saw In Life...
The... " Midnight Ravers "...

Doing Things...
That CLEARLY BLEW HIS MIND... !!!!!!
So Now I'm On... " The Ride "...
THIS One That We Call... " LIFE "...

These Days I Don't Feel Strong...
But Just Like Bob Said In His Song...

I Say...

"People RIDE ON...
That's Right People, RIDE ON...."

Because My Words May Not Be Heard...
But THIS I MUST... Pass On...............

Marley Was A LEGEND...
As Were Bunny And Tosh... !!!

Ravers With Those Flavours...
That Made People... " RIDE ON "...

So As I End This Piece of Verse...
THINK of The Wailers Song... !!!
And REMEMBER My Poetic Vibes...
That Now Speak On These......

... " Midnight Types "...

So YES People RIDE ON...
YES YES People RIDE ON...................
Inspired by the song, Midnight Ravers ...
nivek Oct 2019
life is your right
you are loved
you are loveable.
Simon Soane Jun 2013
Day
In another life
your farewell
was a dusk that born mourning,
the clatter of closing curtains
rung in the sorrow
of a sunless tomorrow.
Now there are no wailers
impaling the dawn,
but the sound of
pinned butterfly flight,
beating the silence of half-light.
nivek Oct 2019
Away, away, away in ships
slaves have always gone this way

across ocean and sea a watery path
to captivity.

Away, away, away
away in ships never to be seen again.
David Lessard Sep 2015
Lost in the sweet rock and roll,
I hear the wailers shout;
Jerry Lee and Elvis, Little Richard,
what the music was about.

Living life up to the hilt,
the pounding of the piano;
like a fighter in the ring,
like Rocky Marciano.

Their opponent was the square,
today theyre called a nerd;
but it was rhythm and it was blues,
that through the void we heard.

Chuck Berry's song were gutty,
the lyrics interwoven;
he told Tchaikovsky the news,
and rolled on over Beethoven!

And Fats just walked us home,
past old Blueberry Hill;
said it was a shame,
I can them singing, still.
Mitchell Jan 2015
It's a framed picture;
A framed one.
It takes up the wall.
Leaving nothing for anything else.
Sometimes
An image
Says everything it needs to,
Without,
Words.

A brace holds her arm.
It was broke
Just before the last morn.
When she nods,
She says she wants what she wants.
I took her hand too soon - not ready,
Souls to feverish to elope.
Thick clouds form overhead yeah?
Raincoat. Fresh paints. Fresh love.

Another chance.

You know I've had a million chances
To be in The Sun
With you?
We've laughed through a million tidal waves;
A trillion battle cries;
A silly amount of cake or pies.
I've regretted nothing for I've changed identity...
Melded them of sorts....
And If I were to ask my future self
From my past self
The reason for love and how to hold it,
I would say:

"To be. To be thee and the other. To be one in stead of two."

And you'd nod and I'd nod,
And the whispering wailers on thin tree branches
Would sing their old song of indecipherable infinity so,
We'd laugh, giggle, carefree run free,
Take Italian love songs for grants mixing love potions with real potions,
Never understanding place, name, or space.

See the leaf fall.
It rests upon the ground.
We've all got our homes.
What doesn't matter now,
Will matter soon.
We smile.
We laugh.
We enjoy the company
Of the man
Without a hat.

All light comes through and I see the frothing beauty of 2011.
She mentions something I vaguely remember.
She says something like, "When numbers were true,
They all were written with ones...they were all written elevens."
It's true that no one ever really knows what they're talking about

(maybe scientists)

But she mumbled these words
And I knew

I knew

That all is lost for the future but, not
To

Give up.

Because giving up is
Like saying
You're not excited for the next day,

And the one

After that.

And, to be honest,
I can't really relate to that.

Don't ask me

Why.
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
alternatively known as: trying to sober up... but keep on drinking.

i remember this time,
when a girl i was ******* slapped me
silly...
    because i assumely lied to her...
about getting a university degree...
and oh, what a pain that slap was,
given the ****** that came after.
throw a ******* penny into the fountain
for the last ten minutes i was trying
to sober-up,
      and yes, i was slapping myself
in the face... over 6ft...
     and weighing over 100 kilograms...
a slap by me... i felt it on my cheek...
i almost lost a tooth...
and i had a case for stating: my neck!
my neck!
         but you know what was
agry. puzzlig, painful?
        it wasn't the memory of being
slapped by a russian girlfriend,
and then her fetish for mirrors,
and how she loved looking at her herself
getting ****** in the mirrors...
oh... what an image to glare into...
            no, but i was slapped on cheek by her...
so today, i was reading the newspaper,
meaning: it was a *sunday
...
    i started drinking, and then slapping
myself in the face...
      but that wasn't painful...
    what was? the magazine read the headline:
100 albums you have to hear
before you die...
     in the live rubric:
     stop making sense - talking heads,
mtv unplugged in new york - nirvana,
  1969 the velvet underground - the velvet undergroeund,
live at massey hall 1971 - neil young,
live! - bob marley and the wailers...
  now... slapping yourself in the face
to rememeber an ex-girlfriend is past painful...
it's just itchy...
         it's just an idea of a mosquito...
    you get used to it, like love might be compared to malaria,
you can take a hundred girls slapping
you in the face,
   after which you start slapping yourself
to estimate that 100 girls could slap you and
that you'd still **** them...
  what's painful? the 100 album playlist...
   what the **** happened to tom waits'
  live album         glitter & doom (live)...
which is akin to the doors', roadhouse blues
live...     i really would prefer to slap myself toward
a 1000 times silly... than excuse tom waits' album
not being mentioned in the century of
worthwhile albums...
    come on... live circus?!
          come on!              goin' out west?!
goin' out west live, is as good as the doors'
version of roadhouse blues!
the studio version doesn't match-up to it,
not even half as much!
      sometimes recording music, live,
      propagates the need for a judas...
                    you really need a thief somtimes...
i mean, sometimes the art-work comes with the audience,
rather than "claustrophobic", locked in a recording studio;
it's basically the energy, of the immediacy of feedback.
Mark Lecuona May 2017
It matters to the family
If not to God or the new lake
They go there to pray on Sunday
Even if they're not really there anymore

We look at auburn streaked skies
And see his welcome beauty
But the door to heaven
Is not to the attic but instead the cellar

We wonder how everything will turn out
The current changes speed and direction
Gospel songs float on top
And the rising waters take us home

The howlers and the wailers are natures friend
Grace comes from its unmerciful ways
Their roots are bent sideways and twisted
But the way of the land is all that faith knows
ymmiJ Mar 2020
hoarding good loving
gold to romantics at heart
richness shared with you
This aftermoon.
I'll hide my heart In giddy laughter
and keep it far from wailers
when why's are seeking their answer
I'll inch with a tape like all tailors
I laugh and sing and hide in a song
A dark sun in the horizon
Echoes of wailers travel through deafened ears
Mother Earth could not hold backs its emotion
The blood of the slain heavy as hailstones

On the cheeks of warriors stood watery signs,
Calloused hands could not hold them back
The agony ripped out their severed hearts
Regret found a new companion

Where would the rain come from?
Where would succour meet solace?
Memories flooding away in the river of tears
An undeserving end for strong men of battle

Tales to be told by future generations
Songs forever to be sung by even the unborn
A sad story
A doomsday
Keith Frantz Mar 2021
I glare intensely 
into the pores 
of the granite walls 
inside my eyelids

Primitive pain
Suffering universal
even in the shade of the 
Bodhi Tree…

All The Wailers
are gone now
Siddhartha recovered Joy
in a broken world

Grace delivered
Facing Mara
face Yourself 
Demon of Temptation

Am I
worthy of Wisdom?
Abused and exploited 
Earth is Redemption 

Lotus Rain
upon Your Awakening
Cosmic and Karmedic balance
Creates The Middle Way

Forge Truth
Through the Holy Cities
No Sacrifice 
No Salvation

Eyes wide now
Dancing with Dream Fish
Marrying Brahmin Priests 
To Outcast Maidens

Nobility emerges
Fledgling monks
Arrive and suffer
Indoctrination 

Caribbean chapel chants
Liberate poets and pestles
Wick lit Silence
My mind is freed

Nature of self
Lends Compassion
Connected
All things

My Island
of Happiness 
Impossible 
in an Ocean of Misery

Teach me
Wander with me
Consciousness 
And beyond

Hear my rainy fire
And I will share 
Your open mind
with the Weary World

Radiant Kindness
will be our malignant Miracles 
Unknown Universe 
Our canvas

Generations of Ancestors 
Create our shared moment
Together
You and I

Withered robes
drag through time
clinging and trailing
Until we are done

Closed eyes
of our descendants 
Weep for us
in ghost memories 

Awakened 
As we are
As it is
Enlightened 

Strive on
Untiringly
Be your own light
and Smile at the Unknown

Divine Pedals fall 
On still body
Out of reverence 
Nirvana

March 5, 2021
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2023
Some of the Catholic leadership
Is afraid of Facebook
And gender bending
Curious

Jesus was a sailor
Johnny Cash broke the jailor
Bob Marley and the Wailers
Early Dylan furious

          The Dalai Lama spurious.
Qualyxian Quest May 2023
Some of the Catholic leadership
Is afraid of Facebook
And gender bending
Curious

Jesus was a sailor
Johnny Cash broke the jailor
Bob Marley and the Wailers
Early Dylan furious

          The Dalai Lama spurious.
jeffrey conyers Oct 2020
The Temprees playing on the disc.
Singing You For Me, Me For You, and Love Maze, and I must agree.
You got me in a daze.

Like they have sung before Love Is So Wonderful.
In fact lovers aware that's it's beautiful.
Yes, totally.

Bob Marley and the Wailers jamming Stir It Up, with the added touch of little darling.
Got me in a daze.
In fact, just being in your company has me this way.

The music of the mood can start a groove.
Then lips and hands can start trouble too.
In fact, lovers know that moment can lead to various things.

More than anything, it leaves you with a smile.
There is nothing like joy?
When you solely in love?
And you aware it's not a temporary thing.
Qualyxian Quest Jun 2020
Bob Marley
and the Wailers
   
Jesus Christ
and the Sailors

              mystic dreads

— The End —