I could give you advice you wouldn’t take it
Or I could give my word just to break it
Show you beauty just so you berate it
Money? We could see how creative
Are the ways and means of a woman or man
Wherever, whatever you may be…. to waste it
And love….? Still it won’t slake it
The thirst that knows no quenching
From the dead waters of this worlds love and care
Not to mention indifference
I’m not going to be there
Not for you, I suspect not for me
Yet it rubs wrong every way, day and night
Existence demands satiation of appetites and rest from the unceasing
Conscious delights and greeds
Some turn a wrench, some a phrase.
Make thought a puppet
Dancing on a stage.
Deception is in the art and at times is itself the art
Both evil and good stand apart
From the addiction of perfection,
Even jottings in the dark
Can be enough.
Just like a drunk on his way up
A shot of true expression warms like
The flare flaming from the soul…
Dipsomaniacs pay heed
We are not so far apart
Well your flame starts in the belly
Mine in the heart
The little word art the sculpting of the phrase
The meaning the world has missed
In all its little meanness
In its little world ways
It’s just a game, but it’s the game
I play with god
(Believe in him or not)
Others have another sport
If’n you don’t know what
It’s there for you to find
