When the agony
of dawn awakens
me.
I think of
drinking
***** to arouse
the muse from
her slumber.
But I don't;
instead, I slam
three cups of
coffee, hoping to
jolt the old
***** from her
lethargy.
If the caffeine
doesn't do the trick,
I grab a few of
our favorites:
Bukowski,
Neruda,
and Dylan Thomas.
I pace the floor
and read out loud.
Eventually, I feel her
begin to stir.
I yell,
"Is your fickle *** ready to work?"
And then the real day begins.
I know this sounds crazy,
but the muse and I
wouldn't have it any
other way.

I put my ideas in places no one would ever look
I hide them well
Marinate them
Until I’m shook
With words like laughter
That erupt
From the joy
Of frolicking
Through the pastures
Of love and light
That spread like wildfire
Day and night

Tonight
winds are small
still there is a chill
the warmth of poetry
for me it's always been
here
it's great to be able
to write some tidy
things down
like butterflies in springtime
as always enthusiasm
can set poetry alight
brighter and brighter
tonight
i indulge in warm writing
i take the initiative
to be with poetry.

"WOOLGATHERER."

I think I was grinding some thought, ah, what was it about. ? Well anyway, what else should a sage visionary besides how to make possibility of all impossible cases. Making peace and building humanity. It was my only goal to make the world a better place for you and I and every breathing thangs, that walked the earth's surface. Dreamers don't sleep. Sleepers never dreamed. Achievers lived dream. Life's but happening dream. Life is live. woolgather. Wake don't sleep !
#C9_fm