Thoughts on Valentine's...

I wish I had one. Is it wrong, trite or even foolish?
I suppose those with out always want what is not.
I day dream of that someone and where he might be am I to blame for the lack of love?
Do others ask themselves the same question?
It is a question I pose to myself often.
I thought I had a love once but alas his love was not for me.
How do you feel about me?
If you knew me would you love me?
Would I love you?
I have love, my heart is big and true how can I show you who I am?
Will you ever see me?

I tell myself that this day of Valentine is just a day nothing more nothing less...or is that just something I tell myself to not feel like a loser, defective, alone.

Will YOU be my Valentine?

Dragsville

My old man was a bread stasher all his life.
He never got fat. He wound up with a used car,
a 17 inch screen and arthritis.

Tomorrow is a drag, man.
Tomorrow is a king sized bust.

They cried 'put down pot,' 'don�t think a lot,' for what?
Time, how much? And what to do with it.

Sleep, man, and you might wake up digging the whole
human race giving itself three days to get out.

Tomorrow is a drag, pops, the future is a flake.

I had a canary who couldn�t sing.
I had a cat who let me share my pad with her.
I bought a dog that killed the cat who ate the canary.
What is truth?

I had an uncle with an ivy league card.
He had a life with a belt in the back.
He had a button-down brain.
Wind up a belt in the mouth with a button-down lip.

We cough blood on this earth.
Now there�s a race for space.
We can cough blood on the moon soon.

Tomorrow's dragsville, cats.
Tomorrow is a king size drag.

Tool a fast shore, swing with a gassy chick.
Turn on to a thousand joys.
Smile on what happened, or check what�s going to happen,
You�ll miss what�s happening.
Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum.

Tomorrow, DRAG.

Where have all the beats gone?

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

I dream of his sound...

let's get lost...

So you're an artist...

words thrown around so easliy these days... "I've already stopped wearing underwear what other sacrifices do I have to make?"