ARE YOU?

Are you the valley I should photograph
Or the mountain I can climb
Are you a song that I must sing
Or the poem I will rhyme

Are you a movie I might write
Or a melody just lurking in my mind
Maybe just a memory
Of something I can’t find

This thing you are
That I can’t seem to know
Just lingers very softly
Somewhere inside my soul

It’s a peaceful image
And incredibly beautiful to see
But it’s also very strange
That you’re not lying next to me

The energy that fills this void
Is strong and seems so real
But when I reach over to touch you
There’s nothing that I can feel

Are you the valley I should photograph
Or the mountain I can climb
Are you a song that I must write
Or the poem I will rhyme

If it’s just a dream
With no physical reality
Then it becomes a cosmic joke
That heaven plays on me

The laughter that is heard
From angels, demons and in between beings
Explains very clearly
Why no one hears my screams

Ha ha ha always overshadows boo hoo hoo
No matter where you live

A good laugh is better than a good tear
If that’s all you have to give



And I understand the truth
Why you can’t come to me
Even though I think
It’s somewhere you might like to be

I’m not real
in the space that is your dream
just a whisper in some illusion
of what love might mean

but I know you are out there
as I am in here
and sometime it would be nice
if this vision could be clear

maybe just a quick flash
that lights up my heart
and let’s me know that you know
that something just might start

I can’t make you come to me
No matter what I say
Just like there’s nothing I can do
To make you go away

Are you the valley I should photograph?
Or the mountain I can climb?
Are you a song that I must write?
Or the poem I will rhyme?



The process of writing a love song, a love story, a love letter or a poem about love really does enter the realm of illusionary triangulation.

One knows what one knows
One hopes for what one hopes for
And then everything in between controls the reality

We can attempt to understand why something might not be happening and yet there is that place that lives inside our minds that really lets us know that we don’t really have a clue.

And that maybe we aren’t suppose to know

Which really pisses me off

It’s one thing if I can’t find the answers to questions that determine my state of being, it’s another thing if I’m not suppose to play inside that type of dream.
That is where the Universal joke starts to take shape and somehow dominates my time…..and always leaves me wondering with something I can’t rhyme.

Why should I care
if the games not fair
I’m not the one who set the rules

Can’t I just ignore the facts and simply laugh
Just like other fools

Does something need to happen when searching for a truth? Does a lighting bolt of insight need to strike me through my roof? Does an inspirational moment need to break inside my mind? And does it really matter if you get drunk on beer or wine? Has anything ever taken the place of love since the dawning of mankind? And of course has anyone ever seen inside my twisted little mind?

I share things that get put down on solid molecular matter, but does it matter?

I create colorful designs that seem to have designed
themselves
in spite of using my hands
my time
and my
imagination

I feel very little control
When creating
The flow

And then the real work begins….filling in

Choosing colors doesn’t require energy
And some might say that’s quite apparent
And others might feel that I ponder long and hard over hues and shades….

It’s actually fun to watch what my hands select for color

It’s a part that seems to be outside of me
Much like the love that I don’t have lying next to me

And is the reason

that I continue to ask



Are you the valley I should photograph
Or the mountain I can climb
Are you a song that I must write
Or the poem I will rhyme


Michael Timothy McAlevey

Lyrics from "LEAJEWELL"Sometime early in the 21st Century