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my sanity is fragile, enveloped in emotion, lick’d, stamp’d and mail’d
from box’s in the underroom, these words together with a melody=a tune
some jotterings find air to breath, others die in the wind
several made it to friends, all came and went to God,
and there in between is me, striving and typing and deleting and updating
and in the end, free’d by letting go

there is no plan here, just another need, a need not laced with
self-inflicted harm or a dedication, like the music I play,
but believe me there is labor, there is love, there is passion
in this jam, these words given to me to give away
blessed with no plug’s for mp3’s,
so your imagination becomes essential
to lingering and digging in, or frittering away
I say it doesn’t, but it does matter, even when I say
there’s no real matter here for me to defend or define
it’s just the doing, my doing afoot in this game today I play

no novels here, no plot to plod through, no real poetry either
for the rules of the poet are not known here,
here the river is a stream of consciousness
from a sometimes unconscious place
lined with anguish and a struggle to have meaning,
perhaps meaning little to you but meaning everything to me
selfish could be the title, the header, the theme
to write, read, becoming more, to dream, to have a legacy

this site may look a mess tangled in all this tech-ishness
fear not, there is always a typo someplace,
hiding behind a line that looks to me so fine
perfection is an obsession I am not infected with,
I’m on the flip side Jack, the outside looking in, pleased if it’s
close enough for jazz, and most importantly to have a few laughs
perchance several ah’s, a moment of wow!
but always to end with a new beginning
a thank you
and Amen