Untitled

I present this on the very last day of my 65th year.

It’s a time, Now,
When the old
Becomes the new
And the new
Gets old fast:
Contradictions of Man,
So alone on this planet–

The gods gave up
And have gone on
To create better beings.

The stars continue to fall
Reminding us
That we can fall, too,
Fall out of favour.

On this mid-November night,
So tired of making Christmas
At the mall,
Seeing the self-serving
Wandering like old-time zombies,
Unaware….

Gordon, my musical friend,
Sings of walking,
Wandering
And hanging here in space.

We are the spacemen.

Copyright 2004  http://www.anotherthousandwords.wordpress.com

Are there still fields of barley? Anywhere?

A musical interlude, welcome by some, and necessary to many.

 

GORDON

He sings of many places
I’ve only been in my mind
A soothing voice with traces
An accent of some kind.

A man of diverse talents
Home on the rock ‘n’ roll range
Seizes all the elements
Real cultural exchange.

Trains in the distance
The man in his prime
Had I met him perchance
We’d have had a good time.

Copyright 2000  http://www.anotherthousandwords.wordpress.com

*********

Just so you know, I really don’t like this ‘rhyming’ stuff I occasionally set forth…it just seems to happen, and sounds okay, I guess.

I’ll be sendings some items…

…back to someone with whom I have deliberately lost contact.

These items, which photos I shall show at some time in the future, were given me…and yet, I am mailing them out within the next few days.

That whole thing was over…six years ago.

Why should I cry for you?  Why would you want me to?  “For all my days remaining?”

You may think I am cold, but I am old(er), he was a whiner, and though you may not be able to understand the circumstances…I NEVER, ever wanted chains, of any type, upon me.