The Overture

This Loudspeaker, it’s a timepiece
that I don’t know how to play.

This overture, it’s a masterpiece
that puts me on display.

This rocking and ringing, it’s a failed piece
That’ll shine the rocks, as whiskey’s mate.

And the piano lingers on…and the descending of the keys

light up the room with valence

to you, to me.


Sense of Self-Importance

God has to have a sense of humor.


Not a mean one, but a funny one. One that teaches you lessons, if God has meaning.

But what if the memory is just what we put out. As a self narration we existed and we exist. It could lead a man to good pain and nutrition.

I found myself a window pane and wrote beside the doors. I filled the room with my love. Observations and interactions as concurrent with human nature, animal nature, horticultural nature, and Life, and the like.

I wrote myself a song to fill the air. I wrote myself a song meant to be only fair.
I wrote myself a song.