Today tomorrow More..

A New Orleans 1 Bourbon Street folks to meet just as times of old.. when tiles.. smiles.. ladies wiles warm love in time grown cold..

Old Harp player name of ‘Blower’.. songs of blues and life.. spoke of stars swamps old bars..

Old Pirate with his knife..

Listened to his pretty harp.. got the key and beat.. slipped in do whack a dos.. ooowa and tapped my feet..

Understood between us.. as notes climbed the sky.. peaceful perfect.. full forever.. each ooowa and cry..

Something perfect from a time.. in our special sound.. news of feeling love and loss.. our harps cried sky to  ground..

Love of time gone not forgotten.. birth to final doom.. a sweet good song.. to play along.. of loves.. barrooms and tunes..

Blues Weaved.. mouth harp the loom..

Thought.. ‘and as we spoke he mentioned the ‘unfinished science of infinity’.. we played our endless song.. pursuing syllogistic promise’.. Peace Tony 🙂



About cryinforthedyin

I write philosophy and poetry. I postulate solutions for problems..I find similiar things in history to compare to present day, hoping to find a solution to the seemingly difficult task of giving and receiving love. I play music. Blues harp, piano, guitar, electric and acoustic. I sing..I love to sing..Peace Tony
This entry was posted in ACLU, Amnesty International, ASCAP (American Society of Composers Authors and Publishers, Dance, Energy, Freedom, Honor, Human Rights, On Line Writing, Peace on Earth, Song Writers Guild of America, University of California at Berkley and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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