Many people say they like it here for the changing of the seasons. I prefer the changing of the guard dogs post to post, they know all too well my patterns and scents. It's harder to cover your tracks than the track marks left behind in the wake of self-gratification and liquid dreams. Even more difficult to stay afloat in a sea of greed. Though a heavy heart's a useful life raft even flooded with emotional baggage. The seasons will change everywhere anyhow. So I adapt, roll with the punches, defend the shakedown, deny the takedown and make visible God's breath. Till the final bell cracks, liberty or death.
Random acts of blindness, visible even to the untrained eye To look away, look down at their cellular phone that never seems to leave their hand Anything to avoid eye contact Where a smile may have to be returned without a receipt or a mouth may have no greeting to repeat Common defense mechanism of the common fool as common and courtesy have been divorced for some time now after common bedded down ignorance Seems when humans stop breeding We'll have solved the problem
Before most of the weary world Returns from slumber Before the bustle Before the false You feel life in everything A universal pulse Earth living and breathing or Emitting trumpets of pain, Trumpets of change Like a free-form composition Moving you through Possessing you to Lose your mind Ground the body Tame your desires Whitewash the canvas Fears to the fires