There I will be
Friends with you
I value our friendship
There is nothing to worry about
Me being older than you
And I am sorry
But I must tell you
That I will die before you
Any day my Father
Shut my body down
I know that is heard for you
To understand that my
Father made life like that way
We all must die some day
We will not going forever
We need to live one day at time

Praise to Mother Earth and Father Sky,
rivers deep 'neath mountains high,
lavish fields of wheat and rye.
Our bounty is abundant.

Praise to Stars, and Moon, and Royal Sun,
clouds that greet us one by one,
shadows felled when day is done.
Our heavens are abundant.

Praise to Eagle, Lion, splendid Whale,
rich charms of the Swallowtail,
roses, bold, yet sometimes pale.
Our beauty is abundant.

The following anecdote baste
upon overactive imagination of mine
in sync with being married
and monogamously living socially chaste
once upon a time
my existence strongly resembled
life as a scrupulous anchorite,
who heartily haled
from a long line of forebears
namely Norwegian Bachelor farmers,
whose distant ancestors of mine
led a spartan existence discovered
pieced together from relics
left ample tell tale signs
buried in rubble
from countless plate tectonic activity

She's already done and she knows
her cell is a hospice for ho's
and soon she'll be freed
to her viperous creed
with no need for her then, I suppose

When I wake up
in the morning,
you'll be out the door
and gone.

Just like some
old coyote,
begging for
a bone.

When winter hits
you hard,
and you have
no one to hold.

Remember all the
happy times,
They'll never
leave you cold.

My mother used
to tell me,
find someone
to love.

Someone you
can count on,
when you're gray
and growing old!

And his demons chased him,
in nights of broken sleep.
He remembered every sin,
the secrets that we keep.

"Brother, let us be.
let the darkness hide our face
let no one ever see,
how we've fallen from their grace".

Son of promise, son of light,
fled responsibility,
never stood up for a fight.
not for you... not for me...

And in the dark of waning years,
do you still refuse to see?
The irony of all our fears,
is... that we are so afraid of me.

there are places...

I see myself in blue jean over-alls and shirt in the side yard on our large plot of land. Red white and blue kite in hand, running until the wind takes it. With our darling cat, Gonzo at my side. I swear he was a human in cat's clothing. He seemed to understand everything... The kite, an ambassador of held hopes, flying high above us! As you captured us with your camera...

Being diplomatic facilitates harmony -
jumpstarting lifelong neighborliness
pacifying rebellious tumultuous vocalizations.

Against the phenomenal cosmological chaos
a measly infinitesimally insignificant species
terminally, lamentably, and fractiously bickers.

Warring contra bands chain the ladies
while motley fools buck the trend
analogous to swimming against the tide
defying overwhelming odds
planting seeds of life and white lily.

The sun is rising
Early in the morning
No body is up
Yet in this quiet
Neighborhood
I love when the
Neighborhood
Is quiet
I Wake up very early
And I go for a walk
Around the block
I see the sun start
To rise early in the
Morning
I can’t wait for the
Sun to be out
I need badly the
Vitamin D
Yes the sun
Take my blues away
That I need
I could never lived
Without the sun
It was my father that made the blue
Sky and the sun

Everything has it's
place in time,
but we never
are satisfied.

The things we desire
are outrageous,
but we continue,
to ask for more.

Our children are
growing into pagans.
Read Isaiah and
you'll see the signs!

We don't know,
how to answer His call.
Our minds blinded
by closed eyes.

The miracles
of the past mean
nothing now.
We just refuse to see.

We are blinded
by disenchantment.
Things we believed in
are dead to us.