Child of Mine..

Seen places sorry faces laughter in the sun.. pretty girls roses unfurled young

Sometimes it comes as expectation.. a feeling of something to be..

love everyone..

Town called ‘disposition’ streets named for a mood.. gambling.. pretty girls.. good prices for high-end cooked food..

Anyone Blvd. you can see the cast.. of any play from any day.. you have to catch it fast.. even down on Wrong St. gamblers drop a dye.. drug addicted hookers walking by to please the eye..

Long ago was feeling slow about ‘next to a girl’.. found a little honey.. sexy purpose for my world.. life inside could not hide.. abide or raise a child.. Baby scare meant nothing  in times hot loving wild..

lost cost my only child..

scared to share the joy.. adopted for the best.. my son a baby boy.. in time meet him way out West..

Speak to image in my mind.. not how he would be.. did the best, strong I was kind.. my son is lost to me.. decades gone no pity on memory called Dad.. paying to the gray horse paid the biggest debt I’ve had..

Think about him now again.. some things I would say.. in the sun.. or cool of night.. on some fated day..

Doing right can be very hard at times.. Peace T.

©AC.22.5.12.arr././

Poly Mark the Frog..

‘In Toto’ only photos know simple resolve.. Picture clear inscribed ‘Dear’ love

PAUL POLLYWOG WAITED FOR HIS LEGS AND DREAMED OF THE DRUID HE SAW..
THE BEAUTIFUL PEACE OF A WORLD SEEN AS A CHILD..

from  time revolves.. Elephants memorize moments decades past.. young living have dreams fulfilled.. peace when good dreams last.. 

 Paul Pollywog spoke with Elder Bully Bob A’Frog.. had a moment to recall happened in a fog..  he said

‘My goal is freedom.. every song I croak.. melody is froggy sweet.. folks said it as they spoke.. me I listened as they drank speaking of our kind.. I tried a song for their lot.. seems they lost their minds.. throwing rocks at my song beauty to front off.. imitated my song with a strangled ugly cough’..

Ollie Owl put down his towel stepping from a steam.. in politics he learned some tricks.. recorded by the ream.. still and all he did not fall.. kept his moral ground.. got a job writing news.. about lies coming round.. ‘After knowing who one is’.. Owl said in his voice.. deep and boomy never gloomy spoke freedom of choice.. ‘style presents to social graces faces that are you.. fashion for the moment is a sign not what is true.. following or leading must be done with care.. delusion leaves a robot who can but obey and stare.. looking for a person.. one who has not died.. someone solid.. known to each.. a soul deep inside.. walk on water for a minute.. bend and taste a drink.. have a care no bottom there.. to stand on thus one sinks’..

as pollywogs grow two legs at a time.. Paul recalls his youth when Ollie and Bob took a puppet mime.. called it ‘misdirection’.. stemming from a lie.. showed respect love to infect all who laugh or cry.. with their inner message.. loving peace aware.. Paul Greatfrog is an elder.. with a love to share..

Fine feel of free vacation nation is our home.. called the earth from our birth a gift called ‘sand and foam’.. part in parcel Minstrel Marcel brought happy love news.. words of beauty to all life.. love before the blues.. Peace T.

©AC.18.5.12.arr././

Riding free.. to Blues..

Guitar music easy song.. blues sound in each note.. harp mellow easy strong.. keep one in my

Play that blues. It calms souls that they remember how love is.. to seek love again.. as with a dream.. each character is of the dreamer..

coat.. alleys welcome song.. best sound they have known..

as canyon wind will howl.. blues of nature’s throne..

Sing me song you who have it.. clear mind sing your  heart.. above below all around.. sing  love.. torn apart.. 

madam, sir a moment please.. can you say why.. then perhaps say when.. cool  pain was announced  blues in a cry.. heartbreak again again..

from lover..

from a friend.. sing ni fi the end.. 

play blues to love again..

after hours has a power built below all nets.. where love conquers enmity.. speaks well of long-lost bets.. just to gather.. work a lather.. one night months or  more.. again love lost  to city winds.. 

‘love needed’ on the door..

start with a major.. is moan for a year.. back to hollow sound of abstract minor.. like your dear.. lover for a moment.. lover in that day.. when blues comes a calling..

play blues  lover.. play..

Music is a wonderful gift.  It calms and soothes many.  It gives purpose in song.  I refuse to accept complete control of another, or a situation, as the only relief from expectation which fails when misplaced.. history of blues tells us.. there is always hope in love.. Peace T.

©AC.30.4.12.arr././

 

  

It was Just last Year..

Wind don't blow as cold when there is shelter waiting.. avoid the crowd.. head home I guess..

‘Mama mama listen’.. she said.. was her voice not clear?.. so long  gone when I got on..

did I lead it here?..

Mama turned looked around.. at the home she built.. with my dad her husband.. guilty act.. to each a  family love wilts.. lay their love in private boxes..  hidden from the stares.. my friends were fun.. no hurtful judging is what led me there..  

‘You saying they would lie?.. say that got it wrong.. what about the pictures you lovin’ to a song?.. they are just looking out.. I cannot be there.. cops have no stake I must believe..  must believe they care’..

Mama sank into thoughts of society.. how they make the rules.. for  fools protecting  you and  me.. bonus is the onus.. transfer of the blame.. professionals can take it.. they are all the same.. secure how her thoughts were read by those who cannot see.. anything beyond the house of cards she built for free..

Looked at  her willful daughter.. look how father works.. look inside your mind mama before counting  perks..         

‘Exactly’ said the daughter.. knowing she had lost.. mother will be close again.. but  now sees such a cost.. last year life was my love with Eddie.. this year love with Bill.. where I was.. what was cool is where I sought my thrills.. now I have no one to blame.. no God to call my own.. no one to take all my fears and promise heavens throne.. 

just me and my hormones.. where primal things lurk.. lies do nothing  here.. just wail in crying salt tear water works.. spoke few words when younger.. did mom just forget.. like playing a horse or two.. losing a big bet.. 

Grandma said in long gone years.. know she never lied.. she said to love is be loved.. lonely love that died.. though we share everything.. nothing here is free.. you child cannot escape what is you what  me.. 

sure you were a youngster  mom.. know you have the score.. know love not bought or sold.. aint no kind of whore.. when nana was dying.. mortal life came home.. something somewhere flying.. her love is in each poem..  

now to speak with family.. especially mom.. have some fool come here with papers clutched in a sweaty palm.. push for information.. likely they will drop.. charges known to me as them.. does it ever stop?..

Social rules are difficult.. for teens usually more so..  there are a great many smart folks in the world.. we all start out sharing.. loving.. if I were smart enough to make rules.. I would not unless I could offer pertinent resolve.. pertinent to what?  The perp who many times is the first.. and oft-times the last victim of their anger..  Peace T.

©AC.29.4.12.arr././

Safe inside..

Downtown uptown all around when one seeks to hide.. secure insecurity those memories inside..

These folks I admire for their work.. in that time. Socrates in his time. I believe in this time.. as in those times.. the essence of freedom is stepping away from being judged by others or judging others.. for one.. it occurs to me 'profiling' is a term developed in anxiety and fear for most.. I believe it will only have a place in society when it is not destructive to anyone.. or anything..

memory can set you free.. sober view or binge.. when  memory presents to thee persistent squeaky hinge.. surity in obscurity may work.. social show and tells in art.. a judges circle jerk..

you are character in senses of life you may meet.. sour power.. no.. share one vision sweet..

your special path or street..

smooth is good inside when one rides in plan.. no one can see.. you don’t tell..  true art honors man..

useless guilt should wilt.. cannot use a crutch.. past is that.. get it pat..  not to involve too much..

walk with rhythm full path melody.. think in simple terms of physical do thus be.. just a passing word  for free..

a path that works for me.. 

there are those overweight wearing jeans from ‘Guess’.. invite to cruel front off types who live to make a mess..

you who know soul inside.. live to create.. art in love.. passed around.. found.. it is fate.. all in sunny morning.. all in a dance of rain.. all in pleasure honey.. all your tears and pain.. all in living, breathing heartbeat.. open love to you.. 

no judge sees.. your every part in art..  ’till shown true..

love to share.. beauty smile for  your day.. sunshine have care..point yourself to loveland.. I will see you there..

Folks do not notice you as much as you think they might.. it is folly to create problems for oneself.. it is folly to be a ‘professional victim’ 

©AC,27.4.12.arr././  

Love note..

Woman help me please.. I feel like to explode.. been walkin’ runnin’.. such is life..

Played some good pool at 'Barney's Beanery'..

saw what never could be me.. apiece down the road.. take me to my soul girl.. 

I’m some tired.. been chasin’ what another expected, desired.. 

Weepin’ always comes around,. loss nature of day..  new day a bright rising sun.. 

some days grey.. splashed with blood.. no excuse to say..

some folks want to kill everyone..

Woman dream a future.. dream it here with me.. sage saga must look to peace.. edenlike our world be..

nature holds no lies.. deceit or surprise..

true due west we gonna set ’em free..

Hold me tight.. love away delusion.. love away all but honor and true.. one second you know lasts forever..

mama hold tight to our path our due.. 

Delusion is intrusion on truth.. thus time.. Peace T.

©AC.24.4.12.arr././

Walk the Loontime Blues..

Walk easy springtime.. smell each plant passed near.. living energy when I notice I can hear..

THE PRESIDENT AND FIRST LADY OF 'LIVLOVEMAMMAL' AWAITING THE COUNT ON THE SB PHOOEY.. 'CANIS DISRESPECTUS'.. HO HO
(pic from 'life smiles back')

watch a spider resume merry widow way..  when I think.. in picture words,, no danger  this day..

Song constant loving song.. always there for me.. music love I felt to share.. love warms me endlessly.. down by merry rocket stands.. ground shakes when they blow.. world is wonderful in song,, watch a world class show..

Been through lots of social things.. some I left behind.. social banter.. ran with sound when I was blind.. smell jasmine.. smell of grass.. smell morning air blue.. takes me from intrusion..  things pushed on me and you..

Heal me things I do not know.. but I understand.. my total self as it came here.. always lends a hand..  instinct guides healing process.. patient virtue now.. your heart mind soul and body.. heal.. your own nature knows how..

When hurt in life brutal.. feel in passion  kind.. when impersonal cause of pain shown.. pain rips my mind..

heart says ‘keep on keepin’ on’.. love will never lose.. when I lose myself.. I must walk ‘The Loontime Blues’..

There a light ashining.. hear harp’s blue full note.. I am coming home girl.. I got some love to tote..

Weather is dreary this mornin’.. grey.. but I can’t care.. got a feeling makes things right.. got some love to share.. Peace T.

©AC.20.4.12.arr././

Travel Time Critique..

There are a great many artists.  One who seeks art, as with most things created, will find it.  As

Though explanations, as funny situations, defy explanation, our past is!..Today as I watch, listen I create..hoping always to put good in tomorrow..

with most things it is a road as long and serious as life itself if followed in honor and truth.  Today I watched a video on U-tube about a fellow who opens his display with a question.. ‘Where is the hidden artist?’  His answer involved view of angle.  His art I find of special interest. 

Using parts of ads he ‘creates’ a commercial display and camouflaged, a person or object is immersed in the display scene.  I cannot think of a more fitting social description of those lost in wants of advertising seen.. and so on.  

I am a second generation American.  I know from wanting things and money.  My studies have shown me that this ultimately will never work.  Reason?  Folks do things for money that go against their primal nature.  When they do this they do not lose their soul.. in my belief.. but they damn sure make it harder to find..

My second artistic journey is the popular 2005.. 4 book saga by Stephanie Meyer about werewolves and vampires.  I like this kind of thing.  It is an escape from the true horrors of this world.  In a momentary aside.. one of the werewolf legends came about very logically and sensibly.. during the great plagues that took towns, countries and on one occasion a third of the worlds populace.. left people.  Some of them became hungry, naked and unprepared.   Some followed the wolf packs and ate their scraps,

On to the books.  I found the first book.. ‘Twilight’ fun.. I did realize it was geared to a younger audience.  I found myself wishing at times Ms. Meyer would not have her characters rolling their eyes so much.  I further found it easy to predict.. I am reading ‘Eclipse’ now.. the second of four.. and am finding myself poring over predictable situations with no change here except a realized boredom. 

On the bright side the book is well received.  ‘USA Today’ said ‘Piles on the suspense and romance.’   At this point I would have stopped with ‘piles’.  If you enjoy light reading and have a ‘comfort zone’ in reading this is a fun book.  It does portray ‘honor’ as desirable, that is a plus in my read.  The emotions of a 16-year-old werewolf and a ’17-year-old’ vampire are done in excellent taste and bearing.  The concept of family and how important it is comes throughout my present reads of this work. 

Ms. Meyers has a website under her name.. the saga in four books made #1 in sales.  That alone has to be wonderful.  I predict Ms. Meyers, as with many other inventive, imaginative writers of grit and determination will expand her horizons. 

Personally.. I look forward to her artistic endeavors.  Peace T.

©AC.15.4.12.arr././

Gas king Brown

Gather round for six pence you can see King Flatulence..walking in his gold among the green..ass

A copied likeness of the founding Flatulents..it has no truth in this or any context..for farts are sacred and private..most hope anyway..

on leather was his way..farted always night and day..he set stages for upcoming scenes..here a world of green, gold sun..sky of different blues..will turn brown in future news..surely good outweighs the bad..results sensed when encountered..is all living things had..

Now industrial revolved brought us stories new..until TV based on true became no work ‘how to’..sensers for each type of known world to pollute..views with news private of rich and destitute..record upon record..proof said unabridged..sworn by Governor aide..goes by name of ‘Midge’

Why not the president?..asked unknowing fools..descended to the present crown.,King Flatulence still rules..still wearing gold and jewels..while paying designers to design tools that make fear..let it be known..down to the bone..

King Flatulence farts here..

It is a very grey day here..I commented on it..CC remarked how everything was closed..I remarked it was grey outside..the conclusion was..if God makes a grey day I should shine my light..Peace T@cftd

©.AC.31.3.12.arr././