This page is 32K long of poems I wrote after a few years of using ACOA. to develop my emotional mind and direct expression of feelings. They relate to a developing relationship with a woman I met while folk dancing, and to my enlightenment experience. Comments are in brackets [...]. I welcome any comments or inquiries by publishers.
Poetry for me is self originated: it does not follow any style or rules except those the emerge from within. I consider this as a direct dialogue with my non-verbal intelligence which is holographic and ancient: tens of millions of years old and maybe more for the reptilian brain. If I think of rhyming the words flow in rhymes, but I have nothing invested in rhyme or meter since as a musical artist I consider myself a composer with words and concepts as my "notes" and science / religion as the lines and spaces of my staff!! My personal musical mind prefers and respects Stravinsky, Prokofiev, JS Bach and Kabuki.
Poems
_____________________________________________
[Written after a "I never want to see you again" message
from my woman friend the previous night]
3/5/90 7 am
Gain
I loved her so much, so why was breaking up so easy?
No trauma this time, only joy! sadness? anger!.
She meant more to me in those few short weeks than I had ever
before found in anyone.
So am I numb? Is this freedom a sham?
Always before pain without form. Tears of blood, not water.
Limbs useless: not going anywhere, not wanting to do anything.
Sinking feeling of breath only exhaled in endless sighs.
Fear that this grief will never end, and panic at the mere sight
of one like her.
Backed into a corner. Resolved never to happen again
Hide for now: forgotten decision stretching hiding into forever
But it was not like that! What did I do different?
Every moment with her or even thinking of her was a gain.
And I grieved with sadness and anger each time I left.
What I gained was me! For we were so alike that I saw me in her.
But so not alike, that her uniqueness was an invitation for my
growth!
Even her contrasts allowed me to find my own boundaries without
blaming.
So I become my own support! As I look deep within, I see her and
know she was there all my life.
And now she has a voice, inside me, sweet as the songs of Debussy,
distinct from the jumble of other voices.
The gain I accepted did not diminish her.
Precious gift, where the act of giving is just being!
_____________________________________________
[So a day later my expected anger showed itself as the Centaur
"Saggi"]
3/6/90 8 am
Heeeeeeer's Saggi!
Snake woman with no ears, only the smell of your own control
Strike, Snake woman with no ears, all you hear is past, but still
ringing
Ringing the wrong number on that forked tongue sniffing
Two sides to every smell? Hearing the man approach
Rattle once, twice! It was fair warning!
"how weird! Don't lose weight for me!" sounds the first
warning.
Snake woman with no ears sadly cannot hear your own warning.
"What do you mean, I may not talk for you!"
[ " All the truth must out no matter what, or you are manipulative!";
{replace with new line:}]
"Men get close to me, and soon after leave", explodes
the second warning of self fulfilling prophesy.
No problem! Saggi has handled many a snake before. He welcomed
the strike
coming from the one way conversation machine, for he had heard
the warning.
How deftly he danced, enjoying the freedom to move
Now freed from the thick ooze of honey, boundaries repaired.
Not concerned that a poem of liberation and feeling smelled,
to that Snake woman with no ears, of control.
Sad that there are no mirrors in the world of odor
Snake year (1941) woman with no ears
_____________________________________________
3/5/90 11 am
Tinker-toy man
Tinker toy man sitting under the Bodhi tree.
"I the most noble of all" spoke he.
Tinker toy man risen from the grave
"I the son of God come here to save"
Tinker toy man alone in a cave
"I can not write save but what Allah bade"
Why did the Tinker toy man come from the west?
Why an arm surrendered as test?
How can the temple in Wilmette [Baha'i]
Show the truth of all Tinker toy men
Break the sticks and build a fire shouts the I-a-told-ya-so-and-so
But some lie scattered about, ready to connect anew the
Tinker toy man with Cosmos
Giving new boundaries to Snowing
Showing healing forms in Chaos
See all those holes left empty?
There is where you make your own connections.
So shake a stick at the cosmos and your sure to plug into sometime
[April '96: This image of connection has its roots in the reptilian
brain and neural networks. It has been addressed in Buddhist "Tranta"
or Vajrayanna.
[Written as part of "Lead" presentation at ACOA. The
"I" is the ACOA group!]
3/5/90 10 am
Support is being held
I hold you in my hand, each one of you.
You come to me knowing that none may enter here
holding anything against you.
As you enter my door - step one is already accomplished.
As you hear others speak step two is in place.
As you hear yourselves speaking from your deepest being of fears
and sorrow never before told to another step three is a fact.
As you return and know not why, to hear your own story from others
lips, step four does itself.
Again and again you come to me to empty yourself, completing step
five by telling me, who holds you and listens silently, your exact
nature.
No longer hearing answers, you forget to look out there, and turn
to me!
Ready for step six.
And as you sit quietly listening to me talk thru others, your
emptiness is the asking of step seven.
I held during your journey to the seventh step as you struggled
to do it yourself!
Now I open my hand, releasing you for the next steps, for now
you know how truly to give yourself support
So now it works if you work it.
[Getting out of a snowed in parking space after a few feet of
snow in Chicago! But nothing like what is the winter of '96 on
the East Coast!]
3/4/90 4 PM
Spinning my wheels.
Chipping away the ice -
frustration mountains of flat slippery spinning my heels
parked yet the speed reads 60
Removing 5 inch mountains with tools for pulling nails!
Get moving now, I can't wait to find a sledge hammer!
Done! Gone! Returned!
Fuck! someone took my hard earned spot - Should I chip his windshield
for punishment? Maybe I'll chip my pride, which might be the only
thing left
of this mountain of ice after the power of Spring removes it!
-------------------------------------------------[This was doing
some "Primal / Rebirth" body work.]
3/5/90 8 am
Christ risen from a cross
It felt so good, to have that cross removed;
the snake of tension, crushing me from primal time of first light.
My first light, my scream squeezing itself sh OUT of my tiny body
snake still within - but this time surrendered to! NOW!
no longer holding me, that snake, once I see into it's face of
origin!
Now free to love, knowing that at the beginning it was not love
withheld
by mother, but access!
I take my first new step, wobbly and a second, wobbly and, but
Wait a minuet! I'm not walking free! In the direction of significant
other It's gunk: up to my knees in honey, sweetness that burns,
sticky and thick!
I have no boundary: anyone attaches themself. Accident without
insurance
but plenty of coverage. Time payments, stretching over eons of
hours
Beautiful butterflies flit around me - insubstantial - goddesses
of another dimension - landing now on me and then on others moving
thru this morass of honey on the path to significant other.
Only enough time to collect a little sugar and then off again
Cheat! Cheated! Cheater! cheating me to pay back that time when
they to caught in a morass and stung by a bee in the hive of great
society.
Yet does it hert (as heart hurts) any less to have no one to hold
Tender caresses spun into golden tresses falling from on high
to lift me from the more-ass-lass?
Stung by myself, I wake up to the honey oozing from my very being!
It is me spread out over the path: without boundary
formlessness shaped by Mother's cry `be nice, be kind'
Butterfly no more, I see the ordinary Goddess dreaming the butterfly
Crying tears of honey spun into threads connecting us. (pulling
me to still respond even though now awake, I decided to re-establish
my boundaries.)
Ouch! How it hurts to dance with a butterfly!
Whose sting is `No time, no time, too busy'!! (being a butterfly
who can't respond my need for a full relationship, too busy collection
honey)
____________________________________________
2\18\90 3 am
Truth
I gag on names - labels crush me.
"It is the truth - I must speak the truth" vomit Reporters
"The people have a right to know" excuses written in
shit
"Honesty is the best policy" speak all the masks
True is a line - balanced and straight - helping structure conform
to 3 dimensions.
Everyone knows the true - the 3 dimensions.
Seeing is believing - in 3 D: up and down, side to side, back
to front.
Truth is stable, so why does pulling any direction bring it all
tumbling down?
Maybe it's because Reality hasn't heard about the true!
Reality still continues to build six crystal dimensions.
Sinking to the valley of true stability.
Unavoidable, the only choice, those six dimensions.
Reviled in Revelations, those six by six by six dimensions.
The tree in us moves up and up - soaring to the light - following
the cosmic dimension
Streaming lines of plasma with no form and only one dimension.
Thrown outward, the stuff of the sun, wasting itself forever.
Blow, solar wind, blast furnace without walls,
cooling into shimmering Eskimo fantasy masks at the outer reaches
of earth
and beyond.
What we touch only the ashes of the center of reality burning.
Until everything used up, collapses into the inevitable valley
of creativity.
Scattered in all directions or forever spinning and blinking:
choice made by chaos.
The scattered drawn together again to re-ignite: the true phoenix
taking billions of years to make the stuff of our bodies.
Cooling and connecting in six dimensions.
Woe to those who seek the unavoidable.
Woe to those who sink down to the center - not interested in pointing
fingers!
Point all fingers to the Sun that it's Qi may sink to ground!
Inevitable!
Use truth to point your judgment finger in any direction of fashion.
(fancy and whim)
Front or behind, get in line!
Side to side - point out the leftists - or maybe you point to
Ronald Reagan as the devil incarnate?
Point out those truths, but one finger pointed there is four pointed
truly to you.
Now that is truly weird.
_____________________________________________
2\18\90 8:30 am
No exceptions
Find the law - what will it be?
Draw the true line beyond which non can pass.
Build structures true in 3 dimensions.
Soar up and up: never look down -
go forward, never look back - one side or the other : no exceptions!
Find Gods you can follow with no exceptions.
follow that dream - never mind it's attachment to a center
walking you around the wheel.
What wheels' center is `up' attached to?
Can we take away the up? YES!
Well, it was tried and failed as shown when all the Walls of Warsaw
came tumbling down, and the two became one again.
Follow the true, follow the perfect
squares that build the world.
In such a world God's true name can never be known - to utter
the awful:
CHAOS
Can you bear it? Can you love the true god? Will you now pray
to Chaos for real mercy.
In the arms of Chaos nothing is certain. Forgone are conclusions!
Anything is possible!
Everything is truly
exception al! Suchness!
________________________________________________________
2\21\90 2 PM
Delivery [to be read as a first poem at a reading]
[set the scene: nervous, awkward, childish]
I've never done this before, read my poems I mean. [slight body
contraction]
It would be different if I had something in my hands to play [twinge]
It's easier being a classical musician -
I mean you got everything done for you -
and what do you care if no one likes it, you didn't compose it.
So I keep looking at my paper
But here it's different [contraction] it's your stuff on the line.
I guess that's why I always admired jazz [contraction]
I mean maybe you'll think my poems to child like. [contract]
One of my friends said I write in too short sentences and that
[contract] hurt
Is this where I should stand? [looking around and contract]
There should be a line that tells me where poems begin.
I still keep looking at my paper because it's hard to look at
you
[big contract] I guess it doesn't really matter what you like,
because these poems are just a dialogue between me and my higher
power -
[contract] in fact, I guess, I mean I know, all my art is something
of me shared. New even to me.
[pause]
Is this what it's like, giving birth?
Actually, I keep looking at this paper
because that's where this poem called "Delivery" is
written
[pause as if finished]
That being a performance poem will grow like a flight that takes
me anywhere I want, without sensing exactly when I got on board.
Blurring the boundaries of reality and art.
[This poem is realization of sketch called `Do I stand behind
the line?' for readings at coffee houses]
___________________________________________
2\12\90 3 am
Make it up as you go along
Mystery. We thought we knew what was happening. The explanation
is so simple:
` 2 plus 2 is 4 - who needs any more?'
Then of course there's the great 'coincidence' that explains everything!
Once upon a time a man at a night club took off a shoe and put
it on the table, and emptied his drink into it. [or something]
When asked why he did that, he replied ` I wanted to see if it
was water proof since the warrantee is about to run out!'
He was told that it was all a dream, because he had been post
hypnotic suggested by the stage act of a hypnotist.
`No, that can't be! I don't believe in magic' he re-lied
Mystery - We find explanation for everything.
The world is not connected! We can't be Gods and Goddesses!
Our biggest trick is how we learn to not see.
`Change, everything is change' we say! But does saying make it
so?
Where there is no cause and effect -
Confusion by explanation or rejection: it can't be! or belief:
God did it!
But never how connections are revealed. How the world is not simply
3 dimensions. And sometimes we almost catch on to it - but we
have learned to `make it up as we go along'
________________________________________________________
2\7\90 8 am
Dukha {dissatisfaction: all is impermanence and
change}
What pretense: "You can't catch the now"
What a fake: "The river never the same"
The great enlightenment betrayed: "There's no now
only past flowing to future"
Creating vast realms of insecurity. Is that wisdom?
Separate and lonely inventions after the lose of the jewel of
liberation.
Now, with mighty effort, look thru the jewel for the jewel!
Time is the map of the rest of the universe -
connected - not flowing.
Who knows what moment is next door?
It is you who moves, while time stands still in each moment.
The animal knows our little adventure outside of time means nothing.
Science and Art invented to apologize for stepping out on our
only primary relationship.
We eat every kind of animal without knowing the meaning.
Food is love - We eat everything because we love nothing
in particular. Overtaking the ecosystem without love:
We eeds
Chopped into bits and stuck back together
with no time-rhyme or reason.
Yet we can't help giving any old reason for our time
Our Frankentime!
Everything is change: the greatest fraud of all!
Took yourself apart and gave the bits, all but one, away.
That one we call our self, our job.
All those distant parts seem to flow, to change of their own accord.
Have you ever seen Animal in such a state?
The same little bits of everybody collect together forming BUSINESS.
Hands off! Consensus now determines function
so perfect as to never belong to you again.
Headache? Reach for an aspirin!
Ching: a precise map of connecting situations
reached in no more than six steps, by six ways from anywhen.
____________________________________________________________
2\7\90 7:30 am
Mirror
Discipline: what I always wanted.
So simple, yet searched forever to find the
mirror. Never anywhere else.
During countless rehearsals, looking in
hearing your image.
Or was it the lesson of the weak -
that you sought others to ask if
they saw the same - and in doing so
missed the opportunity of discipline
when others appear in my mirror
as I looked beyond my reflection in them.
Among the herd, telling me what to do and passing it off as discipline.
Cowherd - watch that BULL.
Distraction sought:
Like Playboy covering the perverted modesty of the soul with glamour's
shame.
Distraction gained. Fascination
Fast sin that misses the bull's eye.
So go ahead and add another quill to that porcupine foot.
This time unwilling to shuffle after 'whatever she wants'
Finally seeing myself in the mirror.
Not so mysterious! Just Discipline.
THE SIMPLE: reflection.
THE EASY: it's all done with mirrors!
____________________________________________________________
2\6\90 10;30 PM
Acc-anemia
Lost in the particle theory -
Gas of sand outside gravity.
All separate grit. Fit in pock marks - all the same size
in random patterns. What's the sense?
Freedom without passion? Never better.
No penetration with grains of sand -
all the same size.
What's your subject?
Bolders.
____________________________________________________________
2\6\90 8:30 am
He's got your voice!
Set free in the abyss with a shout.
Is it a weapon or a wall?
How much of us is our own?
You have given him everything.
Impossible to hold back.
The best you can give is who you are!
Access denied was not really a problem,
only a sadness.
Spin - spin - the wheel turns
and we can't steer it!
Just one of your looks blows away all his thoughts
An x ray that transmits 'you'!
Something that a father can never be
or share when he glares!
Deep within it's you he encounters!
How your fidgeting gets in the way
of his finding you within!
Take away the mirror, else
Confusion!
Remembrance that distracts - love doesn't bind
It blinds the inner turn.
There are more profound connections than love.
Paying homage with feelings
melts the sword emerging
He needs to cut thru confusion.
Do not hand him a powder puff!
Let him cut you into small pieces
and know that you are his cutting edge!
____________________________________________________________
2\6\90 9 am
Feel-source
Hit the ball against the wall, and that's all?
not by a long chain
of hormones (proteins) shot from a gland (gun).
All that I feel is which kind are roaming around now.
You can't stop the now - you're about to hit the wall
Blinded by the sudden contact,
Rational mind shaken loose
snakes (crawls) away - complaining about being stepped on.
No more of walls - feeling no more (I will feel no more) (stopping
feelings)(stopping feeling takes away the wall)
detached into aloneness - with the voice of BIG brother.(replacing
the wail at the wall)
Judas, you didn't want to, but only a brother could (betrayal
by big brother)!
"There he is, Mr. Snake! Put him on the cross of shame!
(Let's be rational about this!)
Know the difference:
A stone for a loaf - a bullet for the aim. (feelings point to
the outcome, our assessment of what might be and for a million
years, what's real!)
Look deep into the arms of vast wisdom. (cherish the wisdom of
feelings)
The snake can never fly there - nor can you crawl there
if our here and now is changed into maybe and should.
(Feelings leap directly to the point. The wall is your answer.)
(walk thru walls, walk on water. What's the difference!) (You
drown in your feelings when you fail to follow the path they
were designed to show you. We curse the darkness created by standing
face
up against the wall, Muther fuka!
It's Big brother, the feeling police using the club of thinking)
Don't despair - Here and Now is still forever
billions and billions of years
all at once!
No wonder hitting the wall - that's all.
________________________________________________________
2\4\90 9 am
Men waiting to be born.
Macho: But a glimpse of the long forgotten Man of Heaven.
Lost in the doings of the World.
Tricked into thinking drinking will bring out that man.
But you cannot drink without first removing the holy cork -
which stops up forever
made of "Only son of God"
Caught up in Jell-O sea - God of the desert, still saying:
"crawl, baby crawl"
" "
'Let there be talk"
Why, man of heaven, Can't you see!
Amazement!
No longer following the thread laid down by others.
A [bove the] maze.
Around a corner the source of the string - hidden
It pulls at me.
But what is this!! Another string!
More - too many to count - I'm getting above of here!
Look at that! Around each corner the women I have known.
Don't be afraid to cut the strings with the mighty pen.
give your poems to yourself!
Slice thru the tangles as they are spun.
WHAT ELOQUENT SWORDSMANSHIP!
Black spiders will no more feed on me.
One kiss of my sword may even turn them into
human beings again!
Throwing connections, not webs!
There it is: my sleeping beauty!
______________________________________________
2\4\90 8 am
WYSIWYG
What you see is not what I see.
The same words, but not the same history -
You may want my comments on my poems - but
Sorry, I'm not a thief, and neither is J. S. Bach!
Out there I see Cultures stolen, not created.
Unwilling to open their eyes - So the ears will haftado.
"I heard what they said" - "Didn't the creator
tell us?"
'Thus saith the Lord; Don't change the word"
What thievery!!
Einstein said "God doesn't play dice with the universe"
and he didn't even report 'God' to the police for stealing his
best solution path!
But wait! I've seen one culture that puts them in jail.
But I keep hearing that they stole everything.
Let's look at the situation: They go anywhere they please - including
within - and see for themselves.
To make things work that only half way make it for us.
I heard tell that they are conformists. Clones of each other.
But can't you see the diversity.
It's a good thing they don't listen to all that garbage.
To busy looking into new ways of seeing.
The only thing not working is education by the numbers.
But they can see, so it won't be long, and after all,
as a filter, universal education works fine
Can't you see!
STOP
Or you might see too much!
The boundaries of words. A snake swallowing itself.
Caught in terns finding individuation -
isolate is cutting connections and entering lower dimensions!
What you hear as "freedom" - they see as being cut loose
-
not allowed to connect.
What you hear as "I'll do my thing and you do yours"
-
they see as the roof of the temple without the walls in place:
Maybe a little crawl space.
I think Van Gough knew what he was doing!
________________________________________________________
2\4\90 7am
Creep
You know what's neat? Nothing at all was wrong with us!
"May I buy you a car?"
"No cars but how about a divorce?"
I object! I thought we were working it out!
We even went to counseling.
...[personal]...
Creep
It all started at folk dancing.
She was the most beautiful - so I will!
I touched her hand, willing electricity to zap us!
Creep
I said to myself, "I'm too tired to go to her tonight, but
I'll call"
She flew over - angry and beautiful -
She lifted me to come to her - I felt wanted!
Creep
I lost my lease -
"So what, I'll move in with her."
Creep
I threw an I Ching:
DANGER couldn't be worse!
DEEP CHASM understanding gives way!
Nothing to stand on - what will that feel like?
RUSHING RAPIDS - knocked about against the rocks.
Not too appealing - what am I in for?
CATASTROPHE
Creep
"Let's try sex with pot, It's great!" creep
"Let me teach you Tia Chi!" creep
"Let's not fight so much, especially after midnight!"
creep
"Let's lose the jealousy, I'm a one woman man!" creep
'Gee, I really want to leave her when she yells at me for hours
and hours,
but I'm afraid to be on my own again! creep - creep!
Creep
And finally I ride the imaginary car into the sunset, because
she's to blame! creep
Even though she says it's only incompatibility,
I know she really blames me! creep
I must have lost IT, but where? creep
Later we come together again; but we're waiting to find THE END.
Creep
At the divorce she does her final double cross. Creep
Look at all those others. They don't Creep - they do something
fun with their legs
I think I'll try!
Ah! this is fun.
I call her and we can be friends - what is it?
Why was it so?
Nothing wrong - Just caught in a projected tangle of our unowned
aspirations for ourselves! Creeping along paths that circle deeper
and deeper into danger - stress feeding on itself and ever growing.
Unwilling to stand on our own! But she took the first step!!
(Creep is the first move towards walking a newborn makes!)
And finally she reads this and says, "I told you so!"
creep
_________________________________________________________
2\3\90 10 am
Absolute love
Can I conceive such a thing? Is this pregnancy for eternity?
God is love!
This doesn't leave much space - everything God is
is love?
Can feelings be love? So is anger love?
By the by I roam from room to room - thinking.
Is thinking love? Or do I love thinking?
There! Appearing out of the midst:
Objects of love!
Or is to love the creator of Objects?
Such completion - do I dare go on?
Yet so many loose ends - better left to books!
Objects create subjects - and subjects become objects.
Is my object falling in love with your subject?
If protons are nearly eternal, what is the lifespan of objects?
Until the objection is straitened out!
Then the object disappears - and the feeling?
Love without feeling is the tree falling with none to hear?
Or see, feel, smell?
Caught in the tangle of emptiness - void
Subject and object disappear - no longer bothered by love.
Feeling is Now - outside history.
Absolute is it's message - beyond reason!
GREAT WISDOM!
Follow the path of feeling walking backwards -
self realization without loosing sight.
Touch with your whole self to see the path behind you -
then feeling will free itself
that moment long ago of its birth.
Pregnant no more.
_______________________________________________________________
2\2\90 10 am
Keys (finding fits or compatibility)
You look at me and see you
I tell you - show you me -
But "Never mine; you can never convince me"
I SHOUT - beyond convention.
Tear up the fabric of reality.
You respond "I knew it all along"
Then I meet someone who sees me from the same side.
So I excitedly show them me from the center.
They say "Never mine - I have other things to do - other
persons to see"
The fabric of reality hits me:
Who can see from the center if it means giving up a self
How many are there in there?
So comfortable, so consistent, no confusion dancing with a self.
So insecure, from that center, where anyone can instantly transform
you.
What things must I do to unlock the doors of self that open to
trust?
What does it matter to me - one more time - my flow is shaped
by her eyes.
At least I have found someone who still tries
And I like the way she looks at me with those eyes!
What a puzzle - to find those keys by just letting
But do I still want to dance her dance?
If I unlock those doors, do I really want to enter?
or is just fascination with locks?
Goldilocks?
Does my river have locks - afraid of the rushing rapids.
They rip your hair out by the roots -
so no longer is there a self or center!
What grows there now, where their used to be hair?
Enough playing in the sand, It's back to the mountains for me!
___________________________________________________________
2\2\90 5.30am
Heartstrings?
Why do I assume so?
A small glimmer doesn't a diamond make.
What is my life -
that I throw it about like a rag doll?
Only a stuffing ready to make a little girl happy -
for a few minuets? Do I assume she will never grow?
Puppet strings to call my tune - hiding I'm I -
Looking for a laugh - from that little girl -
But sooner or later the performance is over.
Do I assume a frozen 'first perfect moment'
will satisfy her - forever?
Sharing is not a thing to be shared!
Replace the stuffing with me and
cut the strings
Stop pulling myself together!
___________________________________________________________
my expectations and serve them for dinner.
Lost between looking good and wanting you -
Wanting me --
Why the warning?
Do thousands of years warning give more weight?
Is there anything to all those injunctions?
It's a wonder the human race is still around! and it is.
Do tens of pains count?
If I was twenty and knew what I know now -
but I AM and it doesn't help
So why the warnings?
Am I ready for 'all at once'
The midpoint of a leap is a fine time to hear a warning.
Have I leapt into the ostrich position again?
Obviously not!
The warning is closer - across the kitchen table.
Is it an act or an action?
Does asking help or is it that inner crowd.
Do I like all of them? No!
Should I? Can I?
Am I looking for a match?
"But mommy told me never to play with matches!"
That 'never' may be from thousands of years.
"So can I use the match isn't that all right, mommy?"
But 'light my fire' isn't enough anymore.
Somehow it has the feeling of my old singles group of one:
'Sex without partners'
The daydream returns of falling out of my speeding car on US88
of leaping and somersaulting
Such a hero - Such exhilaration.
But it is an empty dream, and
I face the real armor of a speeding girl across the kitchen table
Would I really wok a million miles for a smile?
The fog rolls in - I can't see who's there -
So many inside that one.
Why can't I stay lost in that dream?
In the 'feels so good'? - trusting.
where does it lead this time.
Am I pulling back or walking up?
Maybe reality is better than the dream.
Reality is 'all she wrote' - 'no more Mr. Nice Guy'
I can change without expecting rejection.
I want support for change
for myself -
not just adherence to that first impression.
"First time perfect' is a special curse when it becomes my
armored car on 88.
Give her credit - let her participate in my discovery of me.
Now that's real trust!
For now - why the warning?
Bending steal creates springs.