a new notebook is always a momentous occasion,
far worthier than the words with which i mar the pages,
and i haven’t felt much like writing in ages,
what, with all this rain!
i’ve seen more of the same,
it’s like this every single day.
we’re waiting for summer to begin,
waiting for the sun to grin,
tapping our toes to the rhythm of the beats within.
the gloom of this june has got me ill.
cabin fever is giving me chills
and i’m about to spill
my heart and hopes
and half-baked dreams
through the blue lines of these pages,
throughout the lifeline of my being.
believing is seeing.
seeing is retrieving optical illusions
you reversed, rehearsed, revised, and remembered
while you were breathing.
what’s the meaning?
with sound diminished so much is deceiving.
it’s a good thing we’re leaving.
you rehearsed, reversed, revised, and survived,
but do you remember the evenings?
joking! choking!
too much scotch has got me provoking
fights and flights of fancy,
so here we go dancing
into the night
to make things right,
awaken to life,
let in the light,
chin up, kid!
you’ll be alright.

On Tradition

Aus Gott wird man gebor'n, in Christo stirbet man. //////////////// Und in dem heil'gen Geist fängt man zu leben an.


"If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space." - anonymous




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