Fai finta di essere un personaggio famoso; scegli l'intonazione giusta per cantare come quel cantante.
Al tre: uno, due, tre...
Ah, che bello...
Bellissimo, bellissimo.
Cantalo su un'altra toFai finta di essere un personaggio famoso; scegli l'intonazione giusta per cantare come quel cantante.
Al tre: uno, due, tre...
Ah, che bello...
Bellissimo, bellissimo.
Cantalo su un'altra tonalità... ops, così è meglio... dolce, dolce... ah, il finale... bravo, bravo!nalità... ops, così è meglio... dolce, dolce... ah, il finale... bravo, bravo!
They aren't the key to anything
But they put the key in your hand
Nothing to unlock or access
You may wobble
But you'll still stand....
Could you stand it?
To be alright-
To be ok without being
When you plan it
You build a kite
Untethered to what you're seeing.
I Was Here A While
I was here as the last breeze unfurls
To see the waves last few curls
What shall become of me afterwhile
Waiting for the moon I think I'll
Make my peace watching the ocean meet the sky
Pondering all those things that no one knows why
While the sun's last rays stand in the way
The moon has no place to play
I was here a while on this tiny sphere
Vibrating to the ocean"s roar so clear
In the earth's blink of her eye
Even a billion years after I die
To this marble I'll be dead for sure
In God's gift to the universe I'll remain obscure
A life of searching for where I fit
Maybe all I can do is imagine it
Not to forever live
Only mere moments does he give
Each a blessing
To be possessing
Beyond my time the future lays
And what may happen in those days
For I have no way to know
What may come and what may go
When my last breeze blows
And my final wave goes
All those moments of joy and pain
Will be lost like tears in the rain
Averting their eyes, the channel they turn
as yet another forest burns
Temperatures climb every year
sure cure for heat – down another beer
Glaciers melting fast, oceans rising
no problem – oldsters busy downsizing
The weather’s now gone insane
forming in the Pacific, three hurricanes*
Sounds awful, but patriots stay in their lane
they just keep toking up on Mary Jane
_____________________________________________________
*as reported in the "Wall Street Journal," 9/5/2026
The enemy knows the power of a hook.
One verse repeated got your whole world shook.
Because your ears are the gateway to an unseen realm.
Lead in a pencil becoming the ink from a well.
Escape room within the confines of a mind bass ackwards.
Sea horse in a bubble, Jessica Rabbit past her prime.
Thoughts cruising down dead end streets and round abouts for no apparent reason or rhyme.
Letting it flow in the changing of seasons.
I've sat within darkness, led by light back to freedom.
Brain set ablaze, while stumbling within a self made maze.
Thankful to the Lord my God, after how far I strayed.
Restored a mind which had become lost in the hallways of insanity. The mind itself had made.
Writing to find the keys of the rooms I've still no access.
Lead leading the process of imagination on paper.
When the last wind blows
and my final wave goes
what shall become of me
said the sea to the sky
wanting to know why
there was no moon to feel
The sun blocked the way
growing bigger each day
touching the atmosphere
boiling all oceans clear
in the blink of an eye
a billion years after I die
It’s a whore to be sure
I’ll be dead and obscure
a victim of God’s gift
or universal thrift
and there’s nothing I
can do but imagine it
I don’t need to live forever
only in the brief moments
I never wanted to end
when life forgot to pretend
that every day’s a blessing
or one worth possessing
The future beyond me
will happen or not maybe
I’ve no way of knowing
once my mind is gone
and totally withdrawn
on the mad house lawn
so when the last wind blows
and my final wave goes
those moments were enough
to have felt it all
within the tidal squall
of weal and woes
And I trusted the flow
went with it sometimes
more often capsized
under a swell of lies
mostly of my own making
for believing them true
* * *
I don’t have immortality ~ just some moments that make life worthwhile
The bright sun goes to sleep,
the quiet stars wake up in the
sky,
The soft moon shines on
your bed to watch you rest,
Close your eyes now and
sleep well until morning
light.
In Germany beneath a foreign sky
I took sweet Sherri’s hand as mine
We built our days upon young hopes
And we consumed love like sacred wine
Then one day the world stood still
A voice like thunder split the air
I ran by will through dread and fear
To find death waiting there
They said my sweet Sherri had gone away
And with her passed a child (inside)
“What, a daughter I’ll never see?!”
Then felt my own heart landslide
Once we talked that if it should ever be
That God would bless our love the same
A little girl with Sherri’s eyes
We both would give her Emma’s name
Then dawn broke cold upon my face
No blood, no ward, no final scream
Yet grief still echoed through my mind
For all of it had been a dream
old dog follows me
to mossy covered gravestone
where his owner lies
Paint your lips and your lashes
cloak yourself in perfume
Suit yourself, lady, ‘til the day of your doom
~ fresh paint fades fast in the tomb
Having been here a while, i've wrote poems
To cause a smile, others may bring
A shiver..However i rarely ever
Dither.)
he does not like boats, especially canoes
spent a few minutes running along the edge
complacent now, he sits staring at his master
the water is frigid; no way he will swim out there
he would have gone on a pontoon boat
they are large, and feel much safer
he has been on them before
this boat was too wobbly; he backed up
at least his master is in sight
he settles down with his head on leaves
taking a bit of a snooze while he waits
The words i commit, i beleive are not for posterity? Yet to be read under the stressed conditions of this twenty first
Century, agaist the perverted backdrop of
Its false science, lurid and glowing in
and under a demonic un-normal, in the
haste
Of desperation, yet within the sequence
of salvation, that the Lord wills to bring
As per citation.'
Do you ever feel noise? It´s all too strong...
Assaulting the ears like a siren song.
Drowning in a see of chaos, I cannot swim,
In this chaotic hymn.
I do. I drown in the sounds of chewing and kids shouting and high pitched yelps,
nothing helps,
The sound is too loud and the silence is too quiet,
my thought a damn riot.
When will it be over this hurricane?
When will I finally feel sane.
IS it just me...
In this sea of too much sensory?
One breath...
the sound is not my death...
two breaths in and out...
ignore the shouts...
I´ll be okay.
I can keep going through this stormy day.
In and out.
I´ll figure it out.
The street exhales in measured, patient light,
Where footsteps keep a cadence soft and slow,
An I, a witness to the day, walk on—
While somewhere in my mind, a name begins to grow.
A stone appears where none was set before,
Its surface pale with weather, time, and loss;
No hands in sight, yet carved with patient care—
A name, a date, and silence etched across.
It feels so close, yet too far to reach,
As if the thought itself has learned to wait;
A whispered echo at the edge of speech,
Where life and stillness almost hesitate.
A though intrudes, unbidden, keen, and still,
It settles where the quiet held its form;
Not summoned by intent, yet marks the will,
A distant tremor in an unseen storm.
I measure life against what time unthreads,
Each breath a brief inscription on the air;
The body writes what memory still treads,
And fades into the grammar of the bare.
And still I walk, the cadence kept and known,
The sky unchanged, though meanings rearrange;
What lingers is not lost, but overgrown,
A quiet thought, persistent, yet estranged.
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