I never give up the fight
But it's silence everywhere

I flew my Mr. Spock kite
I truly have despair

The heart breaks and broken
Endures the unaware

The moon tonight so lovely
Like her beautiful brown hair

              Episcopal stare.

you want to be someone else
anyone but yourself

but
everyone is fake

don't go looking for love
in red roses

beauty is ugly
you don't want to understand
what it all means

I'm so afraid
of what your mind is thinking

The man with moonlight in his hand
Has nothing there at all
The priest is surely right
Don Quixote Wetheral

But the view is whitelight glowing
Radiates my soul
I rest and keep unknowing
Don't think. Just look. Behold!

The heavens hallow holy
The church. The grass. The deer.
When I die, grassy knolly
Whisper in her ear:

               Aqui. Aqui.
        He loved you hear.

I wonder if in years & years
after my demise
someone would read my written piece
& look up to the skies
& wonder how my life had  been
or where I am today
& keep my soul a memory
a million miles away.........

I don't fit in the USA
But the music soothes my soul

I don't care much for money
Don't want a gun or no parole

I fell in love with Sophia
When I just turned 18

Those Greeks! Momma mia!
I like Things Not Seen

Platonic Forms
Irish Green

Bipolar Poets
Nothin' in between

Golden. Not mean.

In all vice and virtue there is a duty to fight for the endeavor of a purpose , fueled by concords; family’s ties we can’t afford .
Bound by a motionless impregnated common sense . To be or not to be that is the question I guess ?

If you are overly pleased with yourself, keep your source of happiness hidden from others.