Beautiful Snow
It has been too long to catch up and say hi.
We both know that time flies by.
Where have you been all these years?
You’ve always been here in town somewhere.
Through the snow and through the trees.
I turned the corner and there you were with your green eyes.
So much time has passed along the way.
In the beautiful snow I wanted to give you a hug the other day.
We both love the countryside.
If we were together, we would never fight.
I would be grateful by your side.
We could play in the snow outside.
It is breathtaking to see you smile.
We could kick back at night around the fire.
In the cold winter through the sun.
A new journey one day with someone.
Who knows where this will go.
I would hold you close when you needed me the most.
You are radiant in the sky.
I would never want to say goodbye.
I hope you're doing ok these days in your life.
We could be one downtown under a green light.
We were once bejeweled dolphins frolicking
within the starry glitter of a spiritual sea
our freedoms were gilded and fathomless
then eyeless ogres of mayhem and madness
steadily parched our happiness and peace
tempered our smiles, muffled our clicks...
until there was nothing, but blackness left.
They've molded us into skittish goldfish
trapped us in their rose stemmed glasses
feeding us a few rancid flakes at a time.
dictating, we should be forever grateful
to be in the shadow of their pseudo shine
for their plastic sextants and jagged kindness
thinking we need them to center our lives.
Dunking these vote centric peckers is paramount
now kick back, smoke a blunt, watch the buzzards drown.
I never try my hardest,
makes me look like a show-off,
kick back and rot with the pack,
glimpses of it is all you will see.
But when you do,
jetattura will drop your jaw,
write off a skeleton face,
onto a scroll of culture.
If I had a nickel for the times
Some politicians committed crimes
How my money would soar
Maybe twice as before
I could turn those nickels into dimes
Then I could buy a Senator's seat
Kick back, relax, and put up my feet
I'd promise everyone
But then get nothing done
And take a ride along easy street
So as a permanent resident
On laws needed I'd be hesitant
Though when my bill passes
It would fleece the masses
And one day they'd make me President
Who could cruise on in,
play Jerry Lee?
One deck is frozen,
in disbelief. A titanic
hit off the old block.
Fingers grooving,
what a shock.
He’s not jealous
of Billy Joel,
he’s his own piano man.
I took a seat, many
took an aisle, caught
off guard
by the talent.
Don’t know his name
like Princess does,
but I wish I could
go back in time
and kick back
on those kickin’ keys.*
*kicking - actively ongoing and enjoyable
Always been creative in one form or another
It's definitely what turns my crank
Sometimes I wish I could turn it off but no dice
Been blessed with this very active mind
Which can actually be a real curse
At times I'd just like to kick back
Put my mind in neutral and let the world go by
I think they called it “vegetate”
However, that word is not part of my vocabulary
Those that don't suffer from this can't imagine
Why I would want a break from it
Well, to start, normal things like watching TV
Or watching a movie at the theatre never hold my interest
They are non productive hours
I know, you must be thinking, “Poor soul!”
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being me
Although it sometimes can be overwhelming
Writing poetry is my current outlet
I have no idea what could possibly come next
Maybe I'll write a symphony, a la Mozart!
Cosmic Vibes and Self-Love Jives
Amid cosmic whispers, stars sync up tight,
Universe unfolds, a colossal setup, alright.
Galaxies kick back, in a groove so cool,
Like the cosmos saying, "Yo, embrace self-rule!"
In the cosmic quiet, a self-hug takes place,
Planets spin like they're in a cosmic embrace.
Nebulas bloom, hug the unknown so tight,
Self-love's on full display, blowing up the night.
Colors splatter the cosmic canvas, no cap,
Self-love legit, like a cosmic map.
In this vast space, a mirror does appear,
Reflecting love, kicking fear out of here.
Beyond the stars, deep within your core,
Self-love, making the universe adore.
In those silent beats, a cosmic dove,
Whispers the language of self-love.
Y yo loco loco..
Could it be wrong to kick back and just write?
What’s your passion?
I’ve gotta a lot of thoughts
I’ve got a lot of plans;
There’s a real one in your reflection,
money doesn’t make you real;
Eyes on the prize when it’s make or break,
I’m gonna take the game and change it;
Y Yo loco loco..
I’m a Kamikaze
crashing into everything;
Loco loco.. All eyes on me.
It's a beautiful evening as we wait in line to board our boat
Autumn is in the air we require a light coat
The Mississippi River waters rejoice in the glowing moonlight
We are greeted by the captain encouraging us to kick back and enjoy the night
Once aboard a flight of stairs, we must climb with a three-course dinner as our reward
The food arrives such a culinary delight with our glasses to welcome the wine soon to be poured
On deck a jazz band tunes up to create beautiful music we can dance to
Our chance to show our moves with perhaps something new
Our journey down the majestic river is about to begin
A paddle boat passes all lit up such a dazzling display
With all the stunning sights we are about to see along the way
A picture postcard we must create, lasting memories here to stay
Off to the cabin on the lake for a much need rest
Time to get away and experience nature at its best
The SUV is loaded let the journey begin
The kids in the back all with big grins
After a long and tiring drive time to put my feet up and kick back
Dinner by the campfire, but first firewood to stack
A chorus of songs fill the air as marshmallows start to ignite
The flames from the burning wood light up the night
The moon shines down brightly from high in the night sky
Wolves in the distance let out their welcoming cry
An evening of fun and excitement has come to an end
A picture postcard of our retreat ready to send
Melody looked lovely sitting on her kick back porch swing this morn
I knew inside was her gorgeous son, a little baby newborn
How had she had time to decorate this gorgeous autumn porch?
She introduced me to her mother, a lady named Mrs. Morch.
Lovely Mrs. Morch had baked scones, and she invited me.
To partake in a snack, along with unsweetened peach tea.
Your porch is terrific, I told the young mother, who nodded her head.
Mom did it while the baby and I were snoring away, she said.
Always been creative in one form or another
It's definitely what turns my crank
Sometimes I wish I could turn it off but no dice
Been blessed with this very active mind
Which can actually be a real curse
At times I'd just like to kick back
Put my mind in neutral and let the world go by
I think it's called “vegetate”
However that word is not part of my vocabulary
Those that don't suffer from this can't imagine
Why I would want a break from it
Well to start normal things like watching TV
Or watching a movie never holds my interest
They are non productive hours
I know you must be thinking “poor soul!”
Don't get me wrong I enjoy being me
Although it sometimes can be overwhelming
Writing poetry is my current ballet
I have no idea what could possibly be next
Maybe I'll write a symphony a la Mozart!
That sheepish smile
disarming a gruff poet
coyly offer hope
my Bridgewater seraphim
kick back wine like a sailor
for K.C.
Welcome to Ganja Den,
The home of legal weed.
This herbal sesation,
Flowered from magic seed.
Rolled or in Gandalf's pipe,
Your trip will soon begin.
A journey that you'll love,
Alone or with a friend.
Heavenly aromas,
Waft up your grateful nose.
It's making your head spin,
And tingling your toes.
Now turn on some music,
Grab your favorite snacks.
Nobody will bust you,
So kick back and chillax.
China seems to say at all times
Great Movie sprouts from The Cheap Crime’s;
From kicked persons who could kick back;
From nimble moves that didn’t slack;
A herald of breathless combats
And plain request men turn Tomcats,
End victory to Innocence,
Because that’s about what makes sense…
America longs to be god
By always checking every odd,
No space granting “” stereotype
That could off dollars from hands wipe…
Yet, sometimes, their pistols are heard,
Now not by Cowboys with their herd,
A badly stretched distanced mother
Ready finally for murder…
It’s an amazing spreading-out
By a unit which hates to rules flout;
In some films makes sure few guns shout
And for best actors for roles scout…
Picture an industry aware
You don’t image sell like a ware.
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