Gangsta Go

Yo Gangsta,

How can you say 'f_ck the haterz'?
Hating haterz is being a hater!

Here's one specifically for you.

Quit being ANTI and
start being PRO, bro.

That's the way to go, you know...Ghandi, King and Teresa said so!

Jump in the flow, bestow us all a big hello. You know you reap what
you sow...

Pull your nose from that blow you toss dough at...

Draw a love arrow into your bow, pull back and let that love explode.

Butterscotch

My Love,

You're like a 10 cent butterscotch lollipop inside a candy store to a
wide eyed boy outside with only a nickle...

David

Never Quite There

It's late

I'm starring at skulls and bones on teh dance
floor

My ears and lungs and eyes have given

in to the music and smoke

the chorus of 'nothing else to do'.

It is time to come home

I know, I know....so I'll go

and get
there

...and there, I am never quite there, there.

It is time to come home...

and I am never quite there.....

Finally, Thankfully, Forever.

You make we wanna
fall

fall in love all over again with being

human....

oh, how my heart aches for this love,

this love which devours me until nothing is left
but tears

....to add to your tears

and laughs

...to add to your laughs

expressive pasttimes to put together
what got split up

reminders of who we are when we forget.

I find you

and look in your eyes and disappear, finally,

thankfully,

forever.

The Eyes

You will move towards what you are focusing on.

Be mindful of where your eyes go.

David, your eyes are creators and destroyers.

Melt

I yearn for innocent communications, simplicity,
slowness in our words until space takes over
and we know who we are. Until we are that space.

A young white-tail hops in the powdery Utah snow
like the cadence of a Chopin waltz.

A hawk circles overhead in silence, spiraling down
with the flurries.

Hot crimson blood slowly melts its way down to the
earth to meet with us all in time.

There is nothing to do.

Melt.

Melt into the sadness
that brings us together.

Melt into the fear that we share...

Our breath is one, only at different
cadences in the waltz...

Cry.

For there are men who cannot mix their tears into
the great salty ocean of words, coming and going like the
tide of our minds.

The waves of thoughts are not ours, my friend. We do not own them.
They do not own us, and there is nothing to hold on to in this sea, save
our Being, moment to moment.

Slowly the snowflakes cover over the sinking crimson droplets until
it seems it never happened and we can forget our contribution to this
earth.