The journey for me has never been a question of right or wrong or right or left for that matter… the journey is about shared experience… even alone we share the experience eventually through our reactions… we act and we react… we sing… we dance… we contemplate the outcomes that fall to the river below and we wonder aloud what the prospects are… and we take a word or a phrase from the previous moment in time and we bend it a bit this way and then that and see how the words fall into place in our mind’s eye… we are at our hearts children at play with words and phrases much like we were a long time ago in a time far far away… we use words now written instead of spoken… we use words painted on the page instead of delighting our ears… yet they still spark and smolder until we reach inside and light the flame of inspiration and come around to the table once more pen in hand… does it matter who was right or who was left… what matters is the debate… the compromise that allows a bit of each to find success and from that to encourage others to find a means to bring forth the steps that will move… stagnant debate we are not… we move… dodge and fire as the case may be… we are not sitting targets to be hit… we spin and we move… we fight the good fight and we take on the challenges that are before us… we do what we must do… and then we smile at the steps… for they always seem higher and more daunting then they truly are… is it right that makes might or might that makes right for if that is the case then the weak and the poor stand no chance at all… two ways of looking at a concept are never enough… many eyes to the horizon produce many choices and with any solution there will always be those who are left out of the equation by choice of their own… while we are our neighbors keeper we are not their jailer… when one becomes the other we are at a loss… so the notion that one need be right is not purposeful enough for me… nor is the goal of perfection… that one must share is a goal that has merit and integrity… a shared idea… a shared ideal… a shared journey is a noble one… for we never know when the steps we are on will require us to be escorted… so be an escort… be a guide… be a path finder for others to connect with their heart and their soul… so much is slipped in between the lines of prose and poetry… or art and reality that we some times fail to grasp the truly magical element… the gift is in the hue shared and exchanged and given freely in a swirling environment that is open to the four winds butt never cold or lonely… it feels like home and home it has been for many a year… so when we are home in the solitude of self we can strip away the pretenses of reality and say what is in our hearts… such a world is every where and I have hope for the poetry and the prose and the shared journey…

I came of age in the 1970’s… the me decade as it is called… after the we decade of the 60’s the 70’s were about the individual or so they say in hindsight… I graduated from grammar school in 72… high school in 76 and college in the fall of 80… taking an extra bit of time to complete my studies… so I was alive and well during the turbulent 70’s… the first real gas crisis… the Watergate hearings… the resignation of an American president… oil embargoes… the explosion of hatred in the middle east… the fall of Iran… the hostages… the whole nine yards I was alive for… not to mention the wondrous musical transition from the hippy music of the 60’s… acid rock to pop… to disco that led to the punk music era in the 80’s… a 70’s man was quite a sight… wide collars and platform shoes… ties that one could eat off of… colors that spanned the spectrum… hair styles that went from long and dangerously wild to the mullet… one has to wonder what that was all about… the decade was where things fell apart… cites fell into bankruptcy… South Vietnam fell… it was not a good time for the world of idealists and dreamers… it was a difficult decade to live in… inflation stripped away a lot of the gains we had made and for some one starting out in life it was a strange paradox from the old ways of our parents to the new technologies we all are enjoying today… the world of video opened and in we stepped… some who were the people of the 70’s… strangely enough they are for the most part the conservatives and liberals of today’s middle generation… we have changed and blended in with the times… would I like to live that time over… no… it was not an easy time period… change never is… butt it was my teenage years and that makes the time frame even more angst filled… first loves… kisses… new experiences day after day… all the world is my oyster and I never sampled the plate… so much I would do different today… butt then we never do get to go back and put on those disco shoes or wear the zoot suit… we just wonder who let us out of the house wearing such wild things…

What we wish has nothing to do with it… we may wish knot to butt that is as good as wishing to… to wish to knot fall puts the same notion in the mind’s eye as wishing to… love is not as fickle as one is led to believe… it does happen and it doesn’t happen… do we really have a say in who we love or how we fall… certainly we do at times… butt mostly we collide when we least expect or want it… it never happens when we wish for it… in fact it usually smacks us at the least opportune moment… so perhaps wishing not to is in a way an invitation for love to find its way inside… butt then I am a dreamer and I can see a silver lining in any proclamation that another makes in regards to love… the strings of the heart are not played skill fully… they are plucked in tune with another… and when that happens we may not wish to fall butt fall we do and fall we will… so while I get it… you are not looking for the smack or the collision… who knows… the only ones I know who have skill fully avoided love are those who managed to roll up inside themselves and not accept any who did not perfectly fit the image of their imagination… know one is that perfect or can reach such a level of perfection… those are best left to fancy and fantasy… and you well you deserve a smile and a laugh and a warm hand to hold… so I will as you say keep the wonder for you and I would never say I told you so… I may say I was right… butt then I ain’t always right… butt I have never been wrong… or so the song goes…

The hour of the making is beyond the limit of my mind to grasp hold of… I can see the light at some place or point in the after glow of time… perhaps the logical is ill logic and the pair of docks is just one slip position just so we believe it to be some thing it is knot… the code is to break the glass and leap from the summit as the hour fades to darkness to land when the first slip of light breaks the deepest darkness… the keys play the music without my notice… I am helpless in the hour of need and helpful in the hour of indifference… the colors fade and the hues sparkle… come spend the night with the dawn and the darkness of night… come spend the day slipping into the somber mood of dwelling happiness… a warm embrace and a playful frolic… for some the moment is now… for the rest of us the time has not yet fallen upon our brow… and when we live we do so effortlessly… spending each night wrapped in ecstasy… such is the dream we make by candle light and share in whispers… or write in poetic lyrics on tablets of white to paint a moment in the best of senses… so spend this moment with me and smile…

The music sets the mood from time to time and from hour to hour the melody sings to me… the words are not as necessary for the mind… you can sing almost any thing to a good series of notes… there is a note for all words and for each there is that perfect harmony or symphony that melds the meaning into it… some lessons are for me and others are for you… butt I believe the best lessons are those we learn together…

I believe the last one to be called is the least in the eyes of the beholders… for my part I believe it will be a time before they get around to me… I am as you already know a particular cup of tea and after sitting around for a time I found the atmosphere not to my liking and being the shy type it was not easy sitting and being engaged in the reasons why and the general atmosphere of knowing that limits the mind… once we decide we close our minds to alternatives that could provide us with answers… so what are the three best of the five we will consider is a nice way of saying please consider a few alternatives before we begin to even begin… at the farthest end of the spectrum there are lights that we never get to imagine because we never allow our minds to go there… we have already chosen our path from the first few… so in this let us at least allow the dial to get to five before we move along… when dealing in cross cultures it is best to defer to the majority and bring that to the minority… those who wish to know have to put aside the ways they are used to reach the goal they set for themselves… time is the great teacher… you put in the time and suddenly you become confident and competent at what was once a very difficult edge… so while I have this attitude and confidence how does that transpire to others… I could do this standing on my head… or so I believe… butt then I never lacked confidence… what I lack is a sense of tack… the hammer and the anvil is not in this respect a good method of getting ones message across… so if the call ever comes I pity the other for they are about to be sucked into the vortex… I take the notion of learning as easy and effortless we do it all the time… so what makes it so difficult is nothing more than the barriers we place before ourselves… since the barriers are internal they can be removed easily… part of reading is writing… part of over standing one another is in saying what comes to mind… the content of the message is often present in the energy and tonality of the words we use… some aspirations will never be reached in a single leap… some take many small steps before a leap can be managed… so start with some thing manageable and move toward the leaps of faith required… he asked his name and went further to find the single question opened a complete book… a history of self… one never knows how the path we take will end or what we will learn along the way… once we have managed it we can step back and know from hindsight the choices and decision points along the way more intimately… so when we can we do… we have the ability and therefore we have an obligation to take under our wings any who ask… butt will I be asked… my thought is know… my style of learning is very different and will send ripples into a system that is rigid and protective of itself… who knows though perhaps I am wrong and the phone will ring one day… and I will hear the news that a match has been made… my guess is not too many will enjoy being taken down this path with the likes of me when there are so many sympathetic souls who can be manipulated… the ship of my state moves in circles a vortex of information…

A single degree of motion… a slow meandering lesson in the simply twists of movement… take a slow change of twelve degrees of movement over a 180 degree range… so form 0 to 180 or 180 to 360… top side bottom around all taken in over twelve shots of the eye… the same image seen through a perspective difference… each a logical degree of separation… of the same image and yet each will trip a different answer or response… I am interested in this ideal or concept… almost like twelve degrees of the same picture… one taken on the first day of the month for an entire year at the same time… how does each differ from the previous one… an interesting perspective… a dip into the imagination or the reality of the fantasy… such is the way an artist’s mind flashes ideas… and then puts them into context… so what if we do this one day and the next day we do the same… only alter the angle by a single degree so we get 364 degrees of separation of the same image… this does limit the object as having to be one that we have perspective all around… butt this seems minor in retrospect… it is however just an idea or concept for the artistic me to consider… I wonder how interesting that would be… and how difficult it would be to move one degree of separation day after day… perhaps in this day and age a degree of separation is possible…

A single slip of the tongue and suddenly the atmosphere changes… I have developed typing dyslexia… it seems that I can manage it quite literally time and time again… the race of mind over keys produces a line of red where the words are misspelled by a simple exchange of letters… thank Godde for spell check other wise I may appear as a complete moron… instead of a simple one… oh well some will remain that way because I simple refuse to do what spell check demands from time to time… and then at others I go back and clear up the offending words or phrases… I am amazed that if you place a number by mistake into a word it does not come up on the spell check as being incorrect… that is nuts… tha0t does not get highlighted as being out of place… wild… how many other glitches are there in the program… over all though I will say it has saved my arse more than once… an arse comes up… hum so perhaps I should just use ass instead… one arse is the same as any other ass…

The second is different than the first by a degree of one… we are today once removed from the beginning and now we are in the eyes of some ready to take on the objective… I myself seem less likely after the journey of yesterday to find a match… the abundance of qualifications of others makes the prospect seem unlikely… where are my barriers to the solution… then it is a dawning of time that suspends me in the air… I am a collapsed balloon filled for a time now hanging limp in the air… an exhausted peace of what once was… the sky is empty for a time and just when the rain begins we give up thinking of the floods… life is like that from degrees to leaps in an instant… one good tern deserves another and the final stone cast finally reduces the tallest building to a pile of rubble… we all greet the hope in our own way… the scarecrow leaps in bounds to cast a shadow of doubt between the cultivated and those who would feed on their good graces… so we lead the wind… follow the migrations of the weather’s tides… I sit in the engine room throttled to the slowest movement impatience… the flowers grow faster than I am allowed to move… she listens to the angst and smiles… childish thoughts… always the mind is on what can be… when it needs to be on where it is and with whom… so here is another one of those once upon a times I can reflect upon… sit with me and remember… life is so strange some times we forget the reason behind the reasons we do what we do… and sow the seeds of discontent we do when we wished to do nothing more than sow the seeds of possibility… ahh well one man’s discontent is another’s opportunity I am told… in the heat of the night perhaps I would wander into her arms and sleep forever more… butt I am a changed man and they are a changed women… and once altered in these ways one does not seek solace in the naked embrace of the muse… one finds another to wrap themselves in and cries the tears meant for another onto their shoulders…

I feel a kinships to the misfits of other times… I found my lost vision late in my life… the days are shorter and I am in need of light and the embrace of the sunshine and I will not get that for many days and nights… I am waiting to have my day like every other dog… the thoughts are endless and progressive inside me… I will take the chances inside the frame work of my desires… I leap into the forest from time to time and run wild getting out… if one can get from here to the there and back again then there is hope that one can adjust and adapt to the ever greens and bending leaves of the brush… come to the side of the side of the side way and lets blaze our own paths into the truth… name rank and serial number is what comes across in the interview butt we can sense a discourse opening in the solid wall of rumpled skin… one man does not stand in the face of the majority without a very solid foundation of contempt…

Slips into the past are important… I can remember a heated moment in the wilds of my mind and wanting to butt stopping on the edge the very apex of slipping over and being lost in the forest of my desires… I remember it fondly of a time tempted so deeply and wanting some thing more than life itself and hearing the internal scream of another woke me… there are some actions that we can knot recover from… some will engrave their image upon our hearts and this one did and still does… it is one of those regrets I have and will continue to have over and over… the edge is there to leap at the opportunity and I stumbled when I was given a great and wonderful gift… perhaps I would walk that line differently today… perhaps I could… perhaps it would never get to that level… one learns not to walk the sharp edges for they cut and leave us scarred and bleeding… the emotions were never the same… the rain inside has continued since that moment and they still flow every day… and will I fear until I have a moment of forgiveness… witch will never come… and never be asked for… once offered and granted a gift of self is never forgiven if not taken and accepted for the wonder it is… there is no going back and washing away the past and getting a do over those moments are apexes of situations… emotions… opportunity… many factors have to come into play for that to be realized… and let’s just say as we grow we find them less and less obvious… while the other remains an enchanting hue… mine has taken on the darker shade… a lapsed moment of intensity in a long line of elapsed moments and I am no longer a shepherd more a wolf… how the transformation slips over us and we are the wolf in sheep’s clothing no longer content to wander the edges and pick off the old and feeble… needing to wander the center of the flock and pick out the best for slaughter… is this not what my indulgence has done… perhaps I am too harsh on me… perhaps I should consider the lost desire as a lesson in human nature and hold my remonstrations of me inside as a reminder that I have a limit that was tested and I survived the test and remained intact… perhaps I should ask the question what if I did leap and fall over the edge… what then would life be… what would change for their would have been changes… perhaps profound ones that would alter my path… it does take a certain courage to leap in such a way and I lack that courage… or perhaps I did not love as deep or as profoundly as I should have… however you define it I hesitated and when you hesitate you wait… and in this case the wait will be forever and more… when we lose love granted in waves we lose a peace of ourselves… and that shard of truth will never come to rest until the end…

I am tempted to open the door and just walk inside the walls… I am tempted to sit in the old places for a time… I know they are dusty and old… unused for a some time now… they were once busy and bustling places… the words flew through here and there at an ever increasing pace… so the memories are rich with emotions and deep with reflections… I wonder if I could manage a slip inside and a seat at the edge of my sanity…

The edge of my sanity awaits me around some corner not yet reached … I can feel or sense the present following me about each and every step… one step forward two back that sort of thing by degrees I am a wasted nuance of energy falling towards the slip stream… what is there for me to do butt to hold on two the past with the present and hope there is a future time to clash… collisions are for the young and the restless not for the old and the weary… not for those of us who have crossed the great divide of time from one half of a century into another… such is the set of my mind… there are things of youth and things of age and best to keep them separated into their proper perspectives… I am not old… but I have been around a bit more than some and a lot less than others… I am of the previous generation having deposited my gifts to the present one… their lives are at the gate and open for others to lay testament upon… mine is on cruise control for a bit… until the naked reflection of time crushes the illusion for me and I spiral into the abyss of my own words piled over me…

I lost some words yesterday… my own fault I assure you… I thought them… I wrote them… and I failed to save them and when prompted I pressed the wrong answer… so there technology failed me… and I failed the basic test of technology… take the time to do and to save… the prompts are always strange… are you sure… wait am I… where am I exactly… never mind yes or was that no… what question am I responding to now… shit… gone… mother… oh well live and learn… perhaps in today’s rambling the essence of yesterdays lost words linger… I am unsure because well this is not thought out and composed as say a true artist or author would do… it is a free association of words at a moment and a lot of the time I am not even thinking as I write just reacting… just simple physical reflex to the moment I am experiencing… was it the music playing or the wind blowing or the shake awake that spoke to me… who knows the degree of intensity that we shared at that moment or witch muse delighted my fantasy world for a time to stroke my internal genius… so it is lost in the deep void of words that are my collection of friends… enemies and indifferent participants… she sweeps me off my feet and onto my backside… in bare assed I sit up and smile… naked and wet I am standing in the shower… a smile upon my lips and an impulse in my heart… and so it begins that life changes on a dime and is forced into a void comes free of that with a perplexed delight… she whispers of the falling trees in the woods and of the ultimate question why… I scream why the fuck knot and move beyond the philosophical debates… who cares about the foundation of wonder if we are stuck in a push me pull you scenario where we are unable to apply more pressure than is necessary to hold our own and hope the other slips or falls so we may run them aside and aground and take control of the ship… I am truly lost at times so is it strange my words went that way…

After awhile it is all just nonsense… the social aspects are one thing and perhaps the occasional direct connect can be creamy butt for the most part the media is some what lacking… do I truly care what is happening at this exact moment… perhaps butt over all… knot really… unless it is of an important nature and I am sure if it was the last thing anyone is doing is stopping and saying wait I have to update my page so everyone knows… truly this is a backdoor gateway… butt that is my impression of the obvious fad… I am there and perhaps I will remain for a time butt I am some what limited… I am not the daily quota type and I am certainly not the type to sit there all day and tell about my latest movement…

A broken heart exists until it is mended… it exists until we love again… for some that is never… for others it remains until we find comfort in another heart… simply to say… very difficult to negotiate… and yes time does heal the heart and mend the soul and make what was seem far more distant than perhaps it truly is… only love heals such a rendering… and that is why so many remain broken… scattered… bruised and battered… for what broke them was the love they had… so how can another love heal them… a paradox… the sword that cut them open is the sword that mends them… sounds farfetched and impossible… butt in my world of things what I have seen… what I have been witness to says just that… the old fades and becomes less acute when we move on to love another and begin the process of replacing that witch we had with that witch we have… and though some never mend their hearts that is not a prognosis I believe deserving of a loving heart… so while it is understood the comment is not as one would say completely over stood and accepted… in time the memory will remain… as well as in time with love the heart will repair itself and move on… at least this is what I hope… it reminds me of that quote some thing about trying to be perfect not being good enough… that one has to be perfect… I never agreed with that… life is not about perfection or being perfect at all… it truly is for me about the trials and the errors… the reaches that fall short… the stretches that cling to success by finger tips… perfection comes at times with the right and proper mix of variables that come together… perfection is more a perfect storm than a reality achieved by diligence… for even with diligence and control it is impossible to get every thread into place and every fiber moving exactly as it should… so celebrate that you love deeply and with passion that you granted all that you could… so now you know what is required and you so when the time comes around again and it will come around again… you will not flinch or shrink from what is required… you will strip off the pretence and leap into the arms of love and find the happiness you so richly deserve… this I believe… this is what I hope for… so even if you don’t… even if you think me foolish and childish… let me keep my fantasy and my dream for you…

Not all requests need to be answered positively… a simple non-answer speaks to us… so we find another way of saying what is the reasoning for the avoid dance… for me it is one of those tests… while some take the matter to heart I take it as a sign… conscious avoid dance… a signal that says wait… that it takes time to negotiate the waters of a river… the expectation that one will suddenly see the other side is presumptuous… butt then I am that way… until recently I would embrace the quick and immediate over the wait… impatience got the better of me more than once and after once too often I was between a rock and hard place and neither one nor the other gave… I did eventually and had to step back so with age comes patience and the wisdom to learn from mistakes we have made… we are silent for a reason… we are quiet for a time as we navigate the waters that surround the island of us and the island of another and it is not easy nor difficult to do… it just takes time to know how well the ships of one deal with the ships of the other…will they fall into relation or will they pass silently into the night… my feeling is that more often than not the ships pass within sight silently avoiding the hail of words or the whisper of the wind… some minds never reach the farthest limit… they just grasp what they can and move on… such is the beauty of time and the wonder of living…

We all have those moments of stopping before we begin again… the latest stop for me has been a rather long and winding path… for some time now I have been off the treadmill of a certain kind waiting and wandering looking for that specific sort of opportunity for myself… after a time I realized there are not perfect opportunities as much as possibilities we can mold to our advantage… there is the financial benefits we can gain butt that aspect was of no interest to me… there was the notch on the gun thing butt that was also not some thing I was drawn to… the artist inside me looked to create butt those who are familiar with me know that it is some what difficult to get past the façade before one gets to the soft inner circle… while the portal is large very few risk the shock of slipping through into another’s imagination… we can take a book and we can read the words on the page and find our minds wandering the streets with the author… some find that task impossible… that was to me a startling realization… so I sat in repose and questioned the reality of a world where people fall through the slats and come out of a system of learning and fail to know the words on the page… and this rolled around inside my mind for a time before coming out as a pathway… a journey that I can follow and at the same time grant the wisdom of words… seems to me like a perfect symmetry of art and reality… take these words and open the door to the treasures contained in the pages of any peace… this portal is an important one that we have a right to question and a right to over stand… come inside the forest of words that drip with the rain and sit in the rushing torrent of sounds as they fall over you like a veil… so I shed my insecurities and my shyness and I stand on the pedestal of time and come to the clearing of my mind… and so the words fell out and the combination of words and music come to my mind… I dance the steps to reach the sequestered space of talent meets reality and we come a full circle of time… who was once the student becomes the instructor and so on and so forth…

There was a wish encased inside a song that tripped my mind… there were secrets of course… haunted memories will remain… silence will toll like bells with every thought… so I wear my veil and so does the other… some will say my soul has left me and perhaps a peace has… we take one thing with us and all I ask is that you keep her warm and safe and if it is in your power purge the memory of this place… this life will have its victory and it will hold its secrets like a sea… within these thoughts are the true meaning behind the parting of the waves… so hopefully in time she will be warm and safe and the memory of what was will have been purge and smiles will come easily and laughter will fill the void that exists inside my world… some things we do for all the right reasons in the worst possible way… and some times those instances are thrust upon us in an instant and we react… she goes her way and I go mine and I still dream of her and wonder where she is and whisper her name in the silence of my dreams… some muscle memory will not change so easily as a choice… some steps will trail after me for the rest of my life even though the door is now closed and they have the closure they require and can now go on as they wished all along to do… when you love some one it is not easy to just like them… you can hate or become indifferent butt it is not easy to fall from love to like… the anger… the fear and the aggression is not so easily shaped into like… a deep emotional turmoil does not just become like any other emotion inside… these feelings take some time to make their way into a rational progression of thought… at some point the reflection of time will become transparent to any logical mind… why will be asked… because I could and you couldn’t… some sparks fly regardless of the dampness of the air and the general wetness of the landscape… even fire is possible on a sea voyage… so the leaves burn and smoldering embers still exists from time to time encased in thoughts that linger in my heart… so the sentiment of keep her warm and keep her safe I extend to the future with the hope that eventually the memories of this place fade completely into the past and never darken the present or future door…

In the past I would shy away from certain aspect of my personality… for some it is difficult to believe I am in fact shy and unassuming… the reality is I am this and so much more… being shy is not a trait without benefits… it is a humbling sort of ideal… we go around and introduce the moments of time… we begin as always in the beginning… who we are and why… that question has always puzzled me… what beings me here will get a bigger result with whom will I dance this adventure in time is another one that holds mystery and intrigue for me… when asked why I often roll to why not… why not take up the music and the words and sing so another can get a laugh or a palm tree can swing… she listens to the words roll off the page and into the air dancing with the sounds of the waves… so much so she takes up the binding in her own hands and sings the lyrics… we have lift off… a portal opens with every book we take hold of and perhaps the true objective is to inspire one more artist to come out of the closet and into the room brush in hand ready to paint with words and write with reckless abandon… if you ask me why I will say why knot… is you ask me again I will respond because I can… because there is a need within me… if asked again I will say that for me it is about time I got off my arse and did some thing worthy of my time… some aspects of life can remain unchallenged in our democracy… some aspects of political debate can remain in the hands of rhetoric… some aspects require the time and the energy of individuals one on one with another… we can lift another by our hand by our dreams and theirs… and it simply begins with a possibility… from that planted seed any dream can come into being… what is life if we can dream… if we can unfold the embers of our thoughts and plant them in the rich soil of potential and let them grow cultivate and care for them… any one left behind is a loss we can and should reach out for and hope with time we can right the course… it takes a great deal of courage to step forth and ask for help… the least we can do is provide it with as much speed and care as we can… so if you ask me why finally I would say because if you ask for help you should get it so that you don’t fall in between the cracks in the steps of society… so that you can pass on what you have learned… such is the way of life… we spin in an endless circle one step beyond the previous one and yet it is still a circle and what goes around comes around… we get back three fold what we give… so there is another why… why does not dig deep enough into the framework of my idealistic mind to grant reason… it is some thing I can do easily and with a smile on my face… it is a joy for me and what better to do than some thing that sparks a smile and is easy… learning is easy and effortless… ask any kid playing a game just how that works… they all come together to show each and the other how to do all the tricks of the trade… and in essence that is what we are about to begin… a method of cheating appeals to my sense of the difference… I once convinced a group of second grades that I could teach them how to cheat in spelling so that the teacher would never know… that got their attention… and they took to it with the rapid desires of starving animals… and so begins the logic of however you get them there… so this time when the opportunity presented itself on the crest of the new year it was not a desire to lose some thing as much as a desire to create some thing… or to aid in the process of some thing… it was not in any way financial for dollars in this make little sense… for whom ever does this for money does not begin to grasp the depth of the need… this is a fabric idea… an idea that requires the forest and the trees to come to an over standing…

The avenue of my discourse settles in from the fabric of the dust and settles into fibers stretched and threaded into the tapestry that is the poetry of me… what makes no sense to the reader is in the eye of the writer a complete sequence or step in the opposite direction… grasp it or not it was inside the rhythm of my sounds… when another falls upon the words they are invited to read the steps we have taken to reach the apex of our perfection… the climax of time and space falls into reference only from time to time… she is an earnest witch hunting the earnest degrees of time… a silent captive of varying degrees… I remember the forest as being silent in the dawning of light and coming alive only when dusk slipped into the folds of the leaves… she whispered her disagreement… for her the leaves held such life that it was in all ways radiating energy of one type or another…

I wrote and I erased… I stopped and I began… I lost what I had found… how strange of me… there is this tendency I guess to hide… perhaps now I can admit my mistakes and move on… I am a lost survivor or a different world… that is some how more believable than the reality…

As much as we might wish to think that we put away the fantasies of youth we still keep them hidden butt we have then inside waiting to be unearthed when the time is ripe… we may set them aside when the reality of life smacks us from time to time butt we still have them… we still use them when we take a moment to let our minds wander free unburdened by the reality of the moment… we have that romantic sense or childish dream sequence… being that we can we do… we know that the dip into the warm waters of the past is a dream come true and one that revitalizes the heart and mind… we are never far from the dreams we have or had… we need only stir the pot to get them moving… and who doesn’t dream of being in the light for even that one moment… the center of a universe of two… wrapped in the fabric of imagination we can manage it time and time again… while the reality may not be perfect it is wonderful and exciting and feeds the dreams for more…

In contrast to the reality lies illusions… reality alters how we perceive our illusions… were we blinded by the sentiments we once had or the investments we made… cold be the heart that ices over when turned away… yet isn’t that the natural defense mechanism… do we knot bleed when cut… cry when hurt… and still when we find love… when we find happiness… when we find we can trust again we do… it is a slow process for sure… we are wary and weary of the trials we have gone through… we are over sensitive at first and overly cautious even at the best of times… and yet we still ache for the intimacy… the release of the heart to another… time it is said heals all wounds no matter how deep… it is probably in proportion to the depth I would think… butt eventually we will trust again and laugh again and allow ourselves the wonder of just letting go of our reality… even if just for a dream whilst we sleep… other wise we are all reality and illusions… and what fun is that…

The very mention of illusion gets the reality sect up in arms to argue to a degree about the unnecessary concept of imagination being a part of any true movement through or near the solution of a question proposed or at hand to be considered relative it must be real they will argue and I will argue that all true answers require a slip into the illusional realm to find alternatives to the tried and the true… while it is true that a solution does exist in the present realty that has been tried before in the past and will in all probability suffice it to say accomplish what our goals are… when we ignore the not yet revealed possibilities we run the risk of not finding a solution that is more productive… these thoughts challenge the mind to expand its horizon and to go beyond the limits placed by the present frame of reference… if this were not so we would still be living in caves… we must by need to growth expand beyond the present and move toward what will be possible tomorrow and what can be possible in some other future… that sort of trial makes for an interesting give and take… the reality sect thinks only in what has been proven to work… what is tried and true… the solid foundation of thought… true learning however comes with risk and the ability to leap out and beyond the fences others erected to hold us within a certain standard… jump this high… walk this far… stay within these walls and you will have a certain degree of success… butt isn’t success measure by the risks… by the desire and passion to step outside the medium… there does come a stroke of the clock when we have either to step up or shut it down… and the ones who create their own path are the ones that survive for they learn how to think upon their feet and to move in places others have not trod upon yet…

Boredom only goes so far… after that the mind just has to escape to some where… the mindless meandering of television only attracts me for a period of time before I must step aside to read or to write or to just listen to the sound of time passing… yes it does get that sad at times that the sound of time passing is much more enjoyable than a television program… I am some what amazed that with all the channels that we are provided that there is very little that can hold my interest for more than a passing few minutes… the formula of today is beyond my comprehension… that and I am not interested in the lives of celebrity and reality shows are for me well stupid… hey lets watch some one be an ass… hummm can do that walking around the block do I really need to watch that inside my own home…

I would never be accused of subtlety… that nuance is not in my frame work or make up… I am a more come as you are put it on the table sort… so perhaps my hints are not so subtle as they seem… nor is my grammar as correct or punctuation as perfectly situated as one might wish… well as far as that goes one may wish me to use some every so often just to capture a breath in between the rambling interludes… we go places and we take our time… we travel to the outskirts and take a minute… we extend our imagination to the very ragged edges of our beliefs and hold onto the threads as they fray and still remain staunch as we support the foundation that others stand upon… where does it go… perhaps it goes off on a tangent… perhaps it goes off to the left of the center or the right of the center… or perhaps it is dead center perfect in its aim… what I do know is that it moves slowly and methodically… a prodding tortoise rolling over the hare time and time again… so if we hide in the hallow of a tree and wait the train will come around the bend some where in time and take us along for the ride of a life time…

The degree to which I propose the alternatives varies by the time allotted to the questions as they are proposed in detail or in sequence they drip and they drop as time is prone to do… I suppose the quandary is when and with whom do we compromise the essential hue to the nonessential thou… it is for me at least and I ching sort of moment… weighing the potential energies of one and the other and balancing those on the tip of the pyramid… all these are associated in a relational database of ideas and ideals that separate the magic from the reality… in some instances those two are one and the very same element and in others they are separate but equal components of the equation and finally they can be separate and unequal unbalanced elements of a geometric sort that is neither pro nor con from the original conceptual target… such as a dream…

The strip of road bends to the center and then twists to the right before twisting back left… it is an illusion perhaps a like wise extreme one that states the noun is the verb if the motion is fluid and the air is stagnant with cold frost… I am knot one to just accept such logical illogic so I persist in the geography lessons and plotting of tables that measure the length and the breath before falling prey to simple distance… the farther away one runs the father another has to run to keep in touch butt still we are know further away than a singular thought… oh dear how difficult it is to escape such ties as these that bind my imagination… they are however only strips taken on each turn of events… we are about to learn haven’t we already…

The question of why disturbs me… what is easier to my mind… when asked why my initial response is because… or why knot… perhaps it is just my natural state of defiance to say why knot… when asked why I would do this or that… what is the situation… with whom does that work for you… I am so very logical when I am not…

I can be an ass… well perhaps that is not fair… I am an ass would be a more proper use of words… can be gives me freedom to knot be at times and that would be artificial… I ams what I ams… as Popeye would say… and Godde nose I am an ass more often than not for what ever reason there is… spoken as a true ass would speak…

This is all about me… well what did you expect… it is mine after all and what am I to scribble about other than me myself and I… the flirtatious avenue of self… or perhaps crazy Scotsman running amuck with skirts…

The idea or concept of propulsion has been to my mind and intriguing set of circumstances… what motivates movement in one and not another… what starts the engine and what turns it off… it is simply the modal operator that switches the engine on and off we go with a simple have to or must have… or is there some other series or sets of degrees that have to fall perfectly in place to get one moving… can one motivate self… get me to the edge and I will leap with reckless abandon… get the to the river so I can jump into the rising waves… how interesting it is to imagine the turn of the phrase that jars the imagination into orbit… how trusting we are at times of one and then not another… is it trust or is it a simple union of the minds that allows the words to spark the fires that feed the flames that ignite the passion that produces the lust for life… or is it a simple string of events that we trap within our mind and use as a dangling carrot to chase after and never get… do we push best or pull… are we push best or pulled… do we ride along or are we participating in the steps… are we prisoners of our own choices or are we free thinkers willing to leap at the first chance we get… I could imagine a rough sea and manage to find my way across the rolling waves… I could imagine a vertical dive and keep the rolling pitch within my thoughts… I could seize the throttle and control my own destiny… butt why would I… let the strings tie me in a bind so that I can be led… is this a recipe for happiness… probably knot as much as the ideal that one gets to choose and to re-choose… and keep choosing until the choices become the puzzle or the paradox of their life…

The flight is fancy or a fancy… an illusion… a lightness of mind so to speak… one feels the weight of the world release them and they fly up and away… in such a state of mind it is easy to feel the wind at ones face or back and to soar higher and higher still reaching for the next star… the next galaxy of ideas to rub your fingers in… still the tempted fate of reality is the ground coming closer with every second… if we fail to learn how to land softly we give a great sacrifice for a few moments of delight… she screams and leaps off the edge cord tied tightly the spring in the cord bounces one first up then down and then in the stillness of time we grasp deeply the fever pitched high in the night… come closer to the edge so that one may see the endless sky before taking the plunge into the soft wisps of air…

I am part of a slow process or perhaps I am the slow process… I once was the hare now I am more of the tortoise… the age thing again… the lessons learned through experience… it is not about being first as much as being confident in what you do… speed is not the best attribute for all things… there are some races that are marathons for a reason… it is not about finishing first as much as finishing in your time… there is know good reason to rush through to get some where else when you are here… we meaning I need to learn how to enjoy the present moment…

A sliver or glimpse… a reflection of the rational man in irrational degrees… suddenly we are aware of the strokes of genius that come from simply being on the edge ready and willing to leap off and knot care where the landing is or may be at some point… reach and stretch for the farthest star one can imagine and then go past that for there is always one higher and further away… another galaxy of thoughts to consider before sleep gathers at the corners of my eyes and rocks me off the other edge of my reality to slumber… to sleep with the chance of continuing the dream…

The night time is the ripe time… a precious time for me or once was… I used to love the later tides of night fall… the children asleep… a few moments of quiet to settle in before bed and the recovery for the next day… it was these times in between when I could let my mind open and just let the contents spill forth… I was used to the chaos of daily life and the ritual of each day… what I loved was the free space in the night when I could just do what ever… read… write… dose… exhale the winds of change and just allow some me time… this seemed to be the time when shadows draped the earth… dusk to dawn was my creative magic time… it was and still is the time when I am most productive… though early morning is when I am more alive than say late evening… just a preference or a knowledge that I do my best creative responding in the morning when the words are fresh in my mind… it is not that I dislike the daylight… fun in the sun is a delight for me as well… those enjoyments are different… more of the body then the mind… more of movement and exercise then of intellectual curiosity… I have this affinity for the night… for the shadows… for working in the slightly out of reach realm… perhaps it is by design…

All our vessels have the ability to right themselves… more kayak than canoe we are… when we splash into the water we can swing around and find ourselves breathing clean air in an instant… the world is much the same… just when it seems like it has been turned upside down there is another switch to right side up… it does not take long for this to happen… sudden stresses and sudden shocks take us for a turn and we need only wait for the push to come a full revolution before we are back to where we began… I am unaware of the brushes I have made with the edges of my tapestry… what I am aware of is the sudden shocks to the chemistry and the combustion of that chemistry… a wave… a pulsating flood of energy can by its origin float… sweet dreams right the bad ones… the ying balances the yang… so in time the nights become the slumber party they are meant to be and we fall into the routine of sleep once more… though I will say as I have aged… sleep does not hold that much wonder as it did once… all the world is a dream… and some part of that dream is the wonder of sleeping restfully…

We hold to the foundations of our existence with a degree of awe… our imagination does not concede that it is possible for the floor to crumble beneath us… or for a wall to tumble down without warning… illness or injury beings to mind in some the possibility that the foundation is like everything else in life fragile… we don’t see it as that butt suddenly we are reminded of how fragile life is and how much we lean or depend on certain individuals… so when they fall or trip or come down with a cold we are forced to fend for ourselves without them and even just for a day we feel the angst of their lost presence… and for some that will spur them to action… to take up the chores… to do what they can to ease the sense they have… others will fall into a lull of sorts… not knowing what to do or how to do it and will struggle for a few days until they are capable of reaching down and pulling themselves up and into the act once more… a small percentage will fall deeper into a depression of loss… I have been witness to this and I still find it unthinkable… illness and loss are part of life… have been since the dawn of time… it exists all around us… there will be days when the skies are grey and we sniffle and cough and crawl back inside to bed to sleep it off… and there will be loss as the previous generation passes into the history books… that also is part of the cycle of life… if we dwell upon the illnesses and the endings of time we miss all the beginnings and middles… so much more happens in the middle then at either end… the water is deeper the air lighter… the sun warmer… the breeze milder… and colors picture perfect and shining… and yet we can dwell on the farthest side… strange how our minds work… where we can ignore a fact for the longest time and then have difficulty shaking it away… fragile we are… strong we are… a paradox we are…

I like the way words tumble forth in a conversation… even in a free association document like this one… I love the pathways they take ad I take interest in th4e ones they ignore… each is a separate conversation with many strings or threads weaving along many lines… there is a paradox to what we say and what we do and how we reaction to the words we write and the corners we stand upon… we can get to the edge of a the walk and remember our keys and scurry back inside to find them resting on the table just where we left them or come rushing in and then realize we have them with us after all… humorous our minds are for the tumbling of words and the falling of secrets… we tell ours in the words as they seep out… we speak of our lives and spark memories… we reveal ourselves slowly… much like a strip tease of a thousand veils… each notes we take another off and place it on the ground and say there… see me… hear me… sense me in the world… and each time we get a response we smile and wonder how far the conversation will go… will we reveal ourselves… our naked self or will we find the latest veil to hold close to us and cling to the hand fiercely fighting to knot let go… or will it fall away as a light breath of air… our memories will remain even if we fail to exist in another life time… our memories sustain us as we move forward into another time… much like a death partings can be… only the memories more forward… the solid tangible threads of what existed are gone from us and we are left with the thoughts we have and the past we shared and nothing more tangible then that… such is the paradox of life at times that just when we seem like we can negotiate a reasonable step it comes back to an all or nothing line… we all strike them because we all want an idea or a concept of an idea that we matter… we measure that by contact… by touch… wither physical or in correspondence… if that is left lacking for a period of time we need the closure to move forward… or at least some do… I suspect all of us do in some ways and not in others… for me it is the fruit that was born of the entwined limbs that once feed each other… for that is what relationships do… they feed one another… they enhance one another…

It is said that knowledge is power… and that no news is good news… so perhaps being ignorant is a blessing at times… we are not capable of responding to things we are unaware of… being blissfully ignorant can be a blessing to some… while the world loves the sensational and we do so like for others to feel for us… I am some what the difference… I would never let on about anything at all… to me what floats in my sphere of influence is for me to deal with… and the close few… other than that I am not sure I could manage the outer layers… I find some of that false… just me I am sure… for others find comfort in the compassion of others… while I find a degree of ignorance helps me to over stand the limits I have… be ignorant of another’s trials… not blind to them mind you… just ignorant of them… peaceful blissful ignorance of the trial and trebles of others… and of my own mind you… for what is better than to ignore the trips that await your next step…

The idea of writing happens over and around the day… what is next comes when the time is ripe… not before or after… while I may have the intention of writing immediately the muse will have other ideas… a book to read… a task to capture my attention for a time… a movie to watch… a package to hold onto…a memory to bathe in… an emotion to come to grips with… and only then when those are taken care of can I reread the words and feel the flow of the words once more… it happens instantaneously and freely… this is where patience comes in… being patient with self is to the artist a useful tool… pressing the muse will only clog the wheel and slow down the process of the tasks at hand… so while I am writing there are many words that I edit out and toss over to the side until I can script the proper set… is this perfect… not nearly as perfect as I would like… it takes a tide and when the tide arrives it takes an opportunity… strange how many tides fail to line up with the opportunities… butt when they do there is magic…

The cat displayed the casual… the dog was more engaging to the mind… a wagging tail as opposed to a swishing tale… an eagerness to do as opposed to a some what bored expression… one slipped under and out the other darted for the door in heartfelt joy… and she sleeps in the embers of her internal fire… and he rests on the pillow nestled in the dreams of fantasy… such is the paradox of choice… and such is the mingling of ideas… some work… some don’t… makes it all the more difficult to arrange…

Partings are the sweetest of sorrows I am told… I suspect that it does depend on what part and with whom and for what time… a parting of the waves is much more than say a parting of the tides… the tides are a recurring daily cycle… the waves are a cycle also butt one of a much longer magnitude… so witch part are we speaking of… each evening we part to go our separate ways… to find comfort wrapped in home and hearth… we return in the early morning to rush off with the many to the fruit filled ideals of our endeavors… some we manage we pose and conviction… others with a bit of angst and some swearing… in the end the professions is taken care of and we begin the return home… a cycle once more complete… a parting of the first part… to a meeting than another parting to a meeting… and so it goes on and on in an endless sort of meandering wave… and each sends a ripple or two gliding across the horizon… we begin we end… we join and we pull apart… we are at the very same instant a singular entity and a peace of the entire puzzle… while also being the entire paradox of many encased in one… such is the wonder of being human and the threads we weave… while we may part… we leave a string so that when we do sense the other we can give it a short tug or pull and bring them back in… or wheel them in for that matter… I guess it depends on how one sees the thread… is it an attachment… or a hook…

My suggestions are usually of my own making therefore they are as one would think of me or my own thoughts… are thoughts truly singular and do they come from a single source… my guess is no… they come from a multitude of ideas or concepts that we listen to and hear… we form our opinions by taking in and then sorting out… and some times we just go with the flow… difficult it is at times to stand in the raging waters and buck the tide… so I am this type of indifferent with political ideals… so much hypocrisy… so much stupidity… explain to me exactly why anyone with the right mind would ever venture into politics… such is the arena of today… and is it so different than the past… I think knot so much as we would like to imagine… things just happen faster today with the instantaneous power of social media… as soon as something is said it is appearing in the news… so one misstep while it does not derail the train… can certainly slow it down a great deal… with all my foibles I would never want to be involved in the public arena or become a focus of the media… that is for stronger souls than I… I love the threads as they wander hither and yon from one slip of information to another… how does this go with this… the six degrees of separation are not so hard to imagine once you begin to work the threads… once the line is towed and we dance we are mated for a time in time… therefore and because we become part of the paradox of life… we are singular and connected all at the same time… strange how the wind blows to the harvest moon and back… come to the jail and wither on the vine my loving fruit… she eats of the meadow and drinks of the stream and whispers to the dawn of the coming daylight… she is the alpha male in female form… all roads lead to her and from her and like Rome once the Philistines will find their way…

The skin is removed from one knee… a common occurrence with me of late… reminds me of the beginning actually… I fell a lot then and I tend to do so now and again as I ramble about… steady on my wheels has never been my mantra… a rough and tumble attitude is what I need… a very fierce mind set is what comes of the falling… one has to get up and if you fall enough you learn that part of the fall is the recovery… we get to get up and get moving… we have to… laying there only prolongs the getting up… as I have aged or grown older I have managed the falls with much more grace then perhaps I did in my earlier tides… skin knees aside the skin now is not 0f the knee variety… the ouches cause deeper reflections of the intent behind the cut… I am more introspective and more aware that my actions do have a ripple effect… and when the tide comes around again I may find that the walrus in the room is me… such is the tide of realization… this corner is mine to stand upon and judge myself in the dawn and in the dusk of time… few tears will be shed one way or the other after the initial anger has passed…

The night is a wondrous time… quiet beautiful solitude wraps about me… time to read… to write… to just breathe easy… the day is filled with having to do what others require of me… the early morning and the night are mine to conjure up what ever I can bring to mind… I will grant you that most nights I am too far tired to juggle the words as I once did… butt when I do find the opening I leap at the opportunity… never having difficulty tossing off to sleep I wonder how that would be… would I pace the four walls of the home until I could not stand anymore due to exhaustion or would I take a book in hand and read until my eyes blurred and I fell asleep in the pages… or would I turn on the crazy box and just have some company… I am not a bug crazy box person of late… there really is not much I want to watch and I can get stuck there in a daze just listening to the dribble come out of actors and news people… I often wonder out loud are they all idiots… then I answer yes they are… they are all idiots… nutters that should be put out and kept out… it is all about the ratings and the more outrageous the higher the ratings… I take a deep breath… change comes when the tide turns over on itself… some where along the line a true genius will step forth and lead us away from the dribble to more informative ideas… as much as I want to believe it is about the art… it truly is about the money… it is about what people are willing to pay… I have to remind myself that time and time again… this nut on the crazy box or radio is there because people pay… people call in… listen… and believe… that is what is scary… people believe what ever is tossed their way without ever doing some research into the information themselves… there is never one road to success I say… there are as many roads as there are success stories… so remember it is all about the light and the money… it all starts out as an art form… and if we are not careful it ends not as our art… butt the art we are willing to create to reach the rung of success we desire… that is why most of us really find the story of success where one does not compromise as truly inspirational… because we know how difficult that is… to stand and risk losing the wealth for principles… for ethics… to do the right thing… not many will take that road…