Away We Go 

Ode to Joy

That part always gets me.
It is the movie Immortal Beloved.
The last part, with symphony number nine.
And the magic the music holds.
The joy of life.
As seen by a young boy, and the old man he became.
The way life is good.
And we are all part of this big old universe.
The simplicity and grandness.
Both awesomely dwarfing and so reassuring.
That life is temporary and passing.
The young get old and the old die.
But it is the ride that matters, not so much the end.
The Joy of this ride we call life.
The pains we feel, large and small, are the price of the ticket.
And the nothingness is not to be feared.
It is the way we are part of everything.
When I say we don’t really matter,
I mean that we cannot matter more,
As we are part of it all.
And it, we, all, matters only as much as it does.
The joy flows. From love and smiles.
It is the goal.
Making disappointment and heartbreak all right.
The final ending for us is the same.
The amazing unknown.

Sex and Travel 

Brood

Sweet moments of lust can fall from thoughts.
Memories of bodies, moving together.
With purpose.
If the imagination is full of fire,
Lovers never part.
They just all fade into one.
Together.
What a wonderful madness it must be,
To live within imagination.
The rest of the fools.
Flesh hungry and alone.
Trying to know the right path.
As if we can choose.
I tried.
A few times.
Each time really thinking it was the right way.
But it has again lead to the nothingness.
Safe, easy nothing.
It would be sad, I guess, if it hurt.
But the worst of it is boredom.
Which doesn’t leave marks.
And is very treatable.
I wish I cared.
More.
Then maybe I would fight.
For something.
But, hey!
I already have the Nothing.

What are they thinking? 

Smile and Wave

Temptations are not just pretty images.
Or sweet smells, drifting in.
They are hints of what might be.
And they don’t just tickle our present needs.
They caress our memories.
Bring past moments of elevation
Back into our hearts.
Like that part in that song, Flower Duet?
So beautiful because it stirs something in us.
Already there and forgotten.
Just stored away. Waiting.
Then that uplifting angelic flow happens.
We feel the splendor.
But it from something that is of us.
Awoken. Allowed to feel. Again.
By those beautiful tones.
So much in life is like that.
True temptations guide us.
To the happiness we seek, need and deserve.
The other temptations are shadows.
Walk between the raindrops.

Sad Sweetness  

Importance Faded

Hearts, Romance and Caring.
Not things that matter only one day.
All those we care about must know it.
I hope so.
My mind has been in an odd place lately.
I find no momentum.
Where I used to store it.
Everything is a little slow.
I just need to heal and ponder.
Get back on that horse?
Or find a new beast of burden?
As long as I finally feel my brain relax.
Smooth out the rough spots.
Lets the scars scab over.
As I’ve read; When all else fails,
see them only at night
and blame it all on the moon.
For it was not into my ear you whispered,
but into my heart.
It was not my lips you kissed,
but my soul.
Love.
A powerful drug.
A sinful shudder.
And a full blast of heaven.
As it is seen, some thoughts stolen
Some reflections borrowed.
Darkness so bright, it shadows the hollows.

Well I was Born to have Adventure.

The flow of the split-brain soup.
Whiskey.
Bright, brown, sweet and cool.
Slandering through mounds of fluff.
I can see the windows, dirty, that shed the light.
Old days and new expectations.
Little Italian Fella.
Set of dice.
Some chaotic interaction.
Now, things have altered.
As they should.
As they must.
Like the Lady in the Sky.
Who too has come to earth.
We all remember the flights.
Of passion.
Of Moments.
I begged you to stab me.
My old friends, like the old me, are gone.
Dead as Dillinger.
We all move on.
We all alter.
Grow.
And, if we have lived right, even a bit, the passing is something to morn.
But Only Slightly.
For the new life is something to embrace.
All that about when I was a child and now that I am a man and all that.
So the old leaves and the new starts.
Good.
Fine.
Some things are not meant to roll forever.
All dice stop.
There is always a number.
Even if you never see it.
All truths and all ends.
As I hear it.
The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long.
Again, fine.
But it still reminds you of what you already knew.
That it is all a faded joke.
But at least it is still worth a chuckle.
The Hot Little Things in life cool off.
Or they seek other sources of warmth.
One should be thankful for the burn marks they leave.
I am.
I will always be.
Hell. As long as I have know the way I live,
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
And that thought, the effort I was going to feel,
Made me smile.
As I do now.
As I will long after the Chimps all leave the trees.

Special Creatures 

So there was this Apple, see?

Some sneaky Snake of malformed logic.
These twisted forms of fate.
Smirking little ass wipes.
Always out to take.
Every little holdout.
Of Love or Hope or Hate.
And the world just slips further.
As the seers do their shakes.
Cause some hurt and shiny Snake.
Can’t see past today.
And the needed interactions.
Never what you want.
But sniffing around the edges.
Anticipating a new fold.
To fully finally embrace.
Them that need the holding.
Even if a Snake.
Go boy,
Slither.