Poetry and Writings

Many things are common To a mind on a path To great success That will impress the mass Now, the failure is bitter And many thoughts with actions Went astray, there is one miracle however, For you on your distant way, It is the resurrection of the fallen From graveyard of mistakes They all will take a part in a bridge building On your path to glory and hoorays

Once upon a time On a wooden porch of mine There was a chick pecking corn It was long before Z children were born I played harmonica blues And the chick danced  Like it had nothing to lose In the end of the song Baron came along and used the chick For his soup, now, that's sad chicken blues

One last remark  Of sleepless mind It says 'oh, stop please!  my thoughts unkind' Now I understand  The myth of Buddha man, It is to serve a bright example Of sleepless men land

Little doberman dog Trying to break the bones of a frog Like nothing else is so absurd I get intense with a prelude And then I blow it all on women And food like a bizarre fake Robinhood

Remember the last time  You put all your cards on the table? It wasn't the missing piece of the puzzle To complete the picture, was it? Somehow being cunning trumps being true, Screw it! - I say. Give me the chocolate chips Not the chili pepper. Lest the world suffer for your openness.

Passion is a lie. It takes you nowhere. Nowhere real. Reality is inside. Inside is the truth.  Truth is the key to all of the worlds. All worlds are everywhere. One must keep the truth as a light. 

She is a remarkable woman Beauty and grace Makes every man's heart skip a beat And race towards her blue lips Pale cheeks, bronze faith, I wonder if all that is just a mistake?

Part time a poet Part time an advisor Full time tough nut Noncompromiser  I wonder what futute holds I care not for the thunder bolts

There was an old Zen master  Living in a hut by the river He was living alone And sometimes he would get help From young nuns and monks Once a monk saw the master  With a very deformed face He instantly inquired 'What happened, master?' 'I'm old and my back hurts a lot' 'I wish you could give me your pain'  Continued the monk The master instantly retorted 'Don't wish for that, sky is blue and grass is green, I will die someday and the pain will go away' The monk understood. Now he was in great pain.  Master would leave this world and he would stay alone until one day he will have great problems with his own back. 

My eyes, they seen many things, Alas they are too tired of seeing The same shapes, the same people I beg you not to bestow upon me Age full of darkness, I still, wish to see In hopes, one day, I'll see something new Something one of a kind Some diamond in the rough Some matter of a kind, a miracle Worth seeing

Is not important, Important stories are being told, Remembered, revered, There is magic to them, A happy ending even. My story is not such, I don't cry Or laugh too much. My story is only black, blue, and grey. Forget about me even starting to say. I'm no one, hence I obey.

Worn at home Sitting all alone Waiting for the drone To fly by  And make me skip my life's misuse Do I get my cashback  Or is it all just capital abuse?

So much of nothing taken To make a little bit of something I dare to accomplish the pinnacle Of true shape shifting art Now, I'm complete But that's only a start

The smell of life in the water Makes me wonder  If there is an altar  For water Gods Still in shape  Making pilgrims cruise Let it flow  Let it go  I don't care because I got Them deep river blues

The wrong things The right songs The bright people The strong thoughts And the miracle of the sheeple...

They are all so pretty But so scrupulous  In so many ways I wonder if ever I'll get a chance  To romance a lady From other shore of life Question I cannot ignore But you babe drive, just drive!

I'm past that stage of a sage in a rage But I find my mind to be in state Of sophisticated madness