Re posted from 2006....the first week of Mind Jazz.....and leading to the lyrics of ARE YOU?

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