Someday soon I will leave this place I will not say goodbye to the butterflies, the addicts and those who exist I won’t tell them I don’t want to go I will just blow away in the wind. My friend, that Wind
Category: Earth
I meet the world deep with my feet
Murder mysteries are on the weekends. This is the time I watch tv. I don’t like to watch tv but I like a good murder mystery. Must have gotten that from my mother. She was a perfect sleuth.
‘Hello?’ ‘Peter?!’ ‘Hi, Dad.’ ‘Peter! Aunty Eileen died!’
‘The world is full of trickery,’ Max Ehrmann wrote. Not only is it full of it, it is the essence of its trick. Life is a magic show. I’ve seen the curtain open and been blinded by the beauty of its glitter. I’ve heard the rantings, ravings, cravings of ‘The show must go on!’ But,…
O Hollywood! Why do you choose to be a celebrity? Fancied you. Don’t you know? Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. It’ll cost you your head.
A bell rings and I hear it pouring inside my head The rain comes and I hear the music pound instead I am the captor and the captive of my emotions The nature of the one who brings rain without tears.
Within the confines of my mind I wake up to the same day. Very little has changed. A bit is rearranged. There is no waking in light speed in this dream I’ve captured myself within. This daily life.
Sometimes you scare me. I walk in that black door and you are there no more. Just yesterday’s news, trying to try me on for size in its uncomfortable clown shoes. I don’t fit in.
Chicago. Walked the streets and loved its beat, the high-class and the beaten-down. Those who built and damned, those who came and went. One name kept calling mine. I saw it many times. So, one night, I sat to ask, beyond the stars, the message cast: “Who is Alphonse Capone?”
Come little one. Come. Into the valley of endless returns. Into the home of the free.