Hoaxa Polka..


Trade ya dreams..

Down roadsides a drifter grifter dreamer ran a fool dreamed a world where every soul he met his special tool.. from downside to upside his memory would fail to remember such as his would shout ‘bail sonny bail’..

Large cities would eat his stories or perhaps he thought until as in the old blues song their company was bought..  ran himself to country then small towns after.. where his dreams made him seem cause for every raucous laughter..

Far away you troopers play at politic cartoons.. Dylan sang of how he bled of distance blocks and moons.. every greed forgetting need of every living child.. the banker and the tanker made senseless lies so styled..

Playing never staying other roadsides never owned just an eye for quick relief from blood marrow of bone.. innocent the wisdom of his childhood to protect.. from words seen as evil.. never knowing love.. respect..

As I sit never to quit an anthill and a moth conversed with more wisdom than this bully mental sloth.. suck it up then buck it up another spoon to fill.. down around the waterside the junkies seeking thrills..

More is real in what you feel you child of day or night.. sense invent or recompense your feelings are alright.. have a care in fact beware of disrespect trespass.. no matter what you say such brays a senseless braying ass..

Play it true for what you do is what you carry forth another sister brother’s place may find South in your North.. born to gift of life no cornball wisecrack disallows.. crops will bring no food if no one cares to till and plow..

Water rain pure clear and fine touches earth and sea something far beyond the likes of dreams of dreamers free.. still your purpose carries and will carry till you go.. until you meet yourself unique a true gift of the flow..

Peace Tony

©AC.15.2.16.arr././

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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 Ability to Recognize, Amnesty International, art, ASCAP (American Society of Composers Authors and Publishers, Blues, City Life, CIVIL RIGHTS, Conspiritors of Woe, Dark Ages, Delusion, Folklore, Freedom, History, Honor, Hope, Humor, Love, Moral Orphans, Music, nature, Online Writing, Perspective, PHILOSOPHY, Poetry, Pretense, Principles, PRIVACY, Respect, Slavery, Social Confusion, Songwriter's Guild of America, Subliminal Media, Time meets Life, Tribal Discipline, Trust, Truth, Writer's Guild of America and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Hoaxa Polka..

  1. manzatu says:

    Când ştii că eşti acasă?

    // event.2parale.ro/events/click?ad_type=product_store&aff_code=036a3f65e&campaign_unique=ca8f8ce30&unique=070afad5f

    2016-02-16 0:34 GMT+02:00 Cryinforthedyins Blog :

    > cryinforthedyin posted: ” Down roadsides a drifter grifter dreamer ran a > fool dreamed a world where every soul he met his special tool.. from > downside to upside his memory would fail to remember such as his would > shout ‘bail sonny bail’.. Large cities would eat his stories or ” >

    Like

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