late night mind walks.

I have discovered There is much comfort in keys tapping like an old friend at the window fingers wiggling in a tender wave a smile of whimsy bends my lips they form an Oh!! as I realize that poems are wine vintage sips of yesteryear...tommorrow... forever I grow heady aroused by the scent the taste, the essence of putting words to my bottled up life though the hour is late my mind shakes off sleep like water repels oil while loneliness slinks in the shadows of love peeking at it's brightness I could smoke almost anything right now coat hanger tubes lawn clippings even fish old habits die hard but this poetry thing it is eternal I suppose I will even rattle my bones in tidy little rows that paint prettier pictures long after I am ensconced in satin and bronze six feet deeper then the last poem I wrote if they offer cushions for a skull why not poetry for the afterlife after death ever after a dog barks a train whistle wails a light bulb flickers and the keys to my dreams they lie before me can I make sense out of qwertyuiopa sdfghjkl zxcvbnm it is the seventh sense this art it opens up worlds that most never dare enter simply unscramble the keys and enter stroll....scroll....through soft mists peach clouds sweet kisses that go on and on a song that is chrystal clear the rulers are the subjects and the subjects rule gatherings of everday words into masterpieces let me come back as a keyboard reincarnated as simply this beat me into submission pound some sense out of me enter me.... exit me let me shift into the backspace that I once left home is here betweenpageup...page down insert my soul there delete the mundane it lies next to end keep tabs on me and I will go on forever pursuing what I love escape with me now wiggle "your" fingers in a gentle wave let a smile of whimsy bend your lips my old friends at this window to the world that monitors the finest wine share a chardonay day with me and let a bit of the poetic nectar spill across these white sheets electronically scanned sleep is overated print your dreams with eyes wide open maybe then they will come true. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~artis : ) Written March 28th, 2002 © on Mar 28 2002 02:49 PM PST   18 • 12 • 10