Music Fun

Not quite there



It’s a travelers pun

Landing everywhere you do

Seen by all seen by none

Gleaning all imbuing hue



Free to see down its lines

The one traveler of times

Mixed dynamic color mimes

to matter not if matter rhymes



It stretches every distance

Reflecting universally knowledge

Flung like never ending arrows

Unmarked inanities quantum edge



Lost in and from infinity

I gazed this a moments glance

At histories birthplace way lost

Transformed into a synapse

What an amazing chance....

We should never judge a BUTT by its cover, yet we dooo....


And now for some serious                Entertainment!!!

There Once was a Pharaoh Playing Faro



      The box would only bring more riddles, a case-keeper brought down to earth by a planting season that failed. Each turn seeking to reside anywhere the tomato doesn’t alter its growth toward maturity.... 

      And all the kings left over would not dare to relinquish the cherished moments with subjects blessed by a safe copper placed on that maturity. Parlaying only the faces that would launch countless ships toward the ports of immortality! 

      As hopes were discarded seeking the last block into place. Any cards were won or lost outside despair to tears on vines seeking clout. The tomato, submissive and older still, waits for no one nor does hunger in the games of standing tall and stoic over the limited funds of self-doubt....



Within all the Great  MOJO

a BUTT might acquire within a lifetime, here is the one great secret for getting the bed for yourself and enjoying a good nights sleep.

A can of smoked oysters chased down with a couple McDoubles....


      Simile of a Truth

A  steady eye inside each sentence

AS  lofty bees sting to a simple command

A  truth Cogito, Ergo behind the infinite cold

AS  time Runs-down on ecstasy's sand

Like  altered memories on whose gifted hand

A  captive fear brokers deeds exhumed

AS  preconcerted exuberant whose exalted wings

A  tender death summed descends beginnings

Like  those colors all old birds hope to sing

new way of looking never works

AS  miracle introductions form placid dreams

A  gifts departure through each clueless remorse

AS  independent as the hunger always seams

Like  godly smiles up whose moon without beams....