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January 12, 2010
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 I feel waisted, I have so many things I like to do, I sometimes don't give them all 100(ok where is the freaking percent button....EXPLATIVE!!!)%.  This is a draft I am taking a little more time on and I think I'll title it  THINGS THAT ARE COOL.


Giant gears in the clock, a thousand balloons that never pop. Blowing trees wind stricken sound, the smell of earth when  coming down. Traditional food so seldom gleaned, beautiful people carelessly seen. Harleys roaring in the night, baby birds taking flight.

Cool.

Megalith structures in the sky, distant traffic going by. Sounded children down the way, snow capped mountains where I pray. Winters’ whispers around frosted panes, the golden old with gracious ways. Harleys roaring in the night, baby birds taking flight.

Cool.

Clanging pots and clinking plates, shadows filling alleyways. Drifting sounds that time of day, the earth exhales her busy fray. Warming sun on exposed skin, a kiss good by from a loving friend. Harleys roaring in the night, baby birds taking flight.

Cool.

Street lamp’s back lit desert stars, broken neon blinking hard. Stray dog searching for a friend, cautioned faith but leather skinned. Silence of the moonlit ground, heavy metal’s working sound. Harleys roaring in the night, baby birds taking flight.

Cool.

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