Music. A lovely word for me. I truly love music. Always have always will.

Probably not much different than many other ‘people’. Music just flows in the blood and sets us all apart from such creatures as gophers and ants.

Lovely to listen to. Lovely to make. Is music love? I think… Yes!

War is fought to the sounds of chaos and explosions. Screams. Death.

Music heals. Music creates.

Thank God…

for

music so simple sounding even from a beating heart.

Inside there is

Indifferent is a common theme for this world

Insufferable shows its face

In as much, there is such, anger overflowing

In countries filled with opinion and voice

Insidious intent?

Interesting

in this it leads

Indigestion

Inflicting

Injury

Inside there is.

Moo

Moo

Moooooo and mooore

By direction the herd is directed

driven enmass

to societies corral

I say, fuck society fed by self-delusions

visions of power

and bread

Fuck the world so many hold dear like a cow let loose on fresh grasses

leaving a pasture of patties called technology

and a herd of cruel, heartless, selfish, greedy, corrupt,…,

oh wait a minute, “Moooo Moo Moo…” (translated: I have a new text message)

Subliminal with a wee bit tad

of flavor

Hidden nuances bouncing naked

like such sway of goldfish with tits

Squirming mud wrestling wenches in K-Y

paid for by Coke

Oh cold Summer

time to munch on rye and cheese.

Lagging motions; swept aside

Sporadic intentions half-cocked

Limp to rock hard; seeming direction

Yes, it works

is is and always has

though the lazy cannot, nor can they, understand it

Power, you see, always the power

in work

in play

Thus the motions of the pieces come together

far into the future

the picture is complete

With such time there is honor

laws set and made

so much to do, so much indeed, it all works with grace,

thankfully…

Layer for a goal,

that being to glide as slicing a part of life into

flavor

With one touch into a motion of turbulence

flipping open such emotions of wet and dry

a warm glow

Just another day

a day full

to the brim

Life of i

Every step the bones spoke clean

A woman and her child, a skull open

Everywhere they wore flesh of illusion and could not hide the joints of dusted

confusion…

Today, the minds were hostile as they embraced the pleasure

Grouped with one and one and one with more added in speak

Glares and the middle finger, righteous of self

even mock tears of anger

Moments where the skeletons actually think they matter

and yes

for in grinding their bones to make my bread

gives the giant

pleasure.

Trust. A powerful word.

On U.S. currency it is written, ‘In God We Trust’. That is nice and simple and mostly unimportant to 99% of the people earning, borrowing, saving, stealing, and spending it on whatever it is that people have trust in.

In my life there have been barely a handful of humans that have earned my trust. Lucky in that though as some people have no one they can trust in.

Inspirational for a poem thought that comes to mind.

***

Hounds bay the hunger mood; seizing morsels divided

lapping the bowl clean without thought of before,

or

after

Pearly beads of oyster firmness with filaments  beach play

contrast against an Everest peak

yet

they believe in themselves, this folly of friend and fool while playing the excellent name… actor

Trusting only in God, inside the feeling, a few men, a woman called wife, and my best friend

the Wind.

Today the sky was clear so took refuge in the clouds inside

There the birds all wore top-hats and false beards

Had tea with a hive of honey bee’s

Laughed with a turtle being  joked upon by frogs.

Watched God play with glass and sand piled high in a galaxy

Watched the Devil bake pizza and cuss

Played poker with an Angel

Stubbed the toe on a mountain peak.

It was a good way to pass the time

and then, when it all got calm

returned to the clear sky just in time for the evening clouds

it was my kind of day.

When the wind speaks, few listen

When  people speak, the wind listens

A man sits with his dog, a smile of mockery signed across his face

Mixing signals

with his dog

Another man points his finger in anger as it is in his belief to be right

balance tilted towards the wrong side

A woman screams a rant of oil, three times trying the rage

her mentor tries to escape the situation with appease

This talk so many speak

about good and evil

and what it means

means nothing in a whirlwind of humanity

and so,

the wind speaks

Evil cannot be fought or won

it cannot be broken or fixed

Evil cannot be educated or changed

Consoled, consulted, controlled…

The Wind is free of evil yet watches the evil in mankind’s heart

…

There is but one way for humanity to come to terms with what grips a world

this is, it is

to know evil exists and that goodness exists, separate and different

and yet, so simple

so simple the solution

and then, when ready to choose a path

in this

the Wind has spoken.