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I like a lot of the stuff that they did without me, the time I wasn't around.

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That They Did Not Expect

I'm confused!

If he has been labelled a fool...
Why are they upset?

'He apparently enjoys it.
And that they did not expect.

He has made being a fool,
Something to respect.'

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The Time Has Come

(lonnie wilson/susan longacre)
The time has come to let you go
My tears will run and theyll keep me afloat
I set you adrift like a burning boat
The time has come to let you go
The time has come to turn you loose
It took my heart this long to face the truth
If I lost you I can lose these blues
The time has come to turn you loose
We had our moment in the sun
But that time has come and now that time is gone
The time has come to set you free
Tonights the night Ill untie all these dreams
Ill send them away so I can find some peace
The time has come to set you free
Im gonna let you go

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When The Time Has Come

Everythings gonna clear up
And the sun will shine
Everybodys gonna cheer up
cause its redemption time
Dont you worry bout a thing
Cause you know things are gonna change
When the time has come
Walls are gonna crumble
And fall into the sea
Oh, all men will be humble
Thats a guarantee
A little rain is gonna fall
But it will only wash away the tears of us all
Dont you worry bout a thing
cause that train is gonna run
You will be on it
From here to kingdom come
When the time has come
Listen to the band
Feels like a change
Wind is gonna rise up
And blow us all away
People gonna wise up
Cause its judgement day
So dont you worry about a thing
Cause you know that train is gonna run
You will be on it
Not just for some
Well all be on it
From here to kingdom come
When the time has come
When the time has come
When the time has come
Oh when the time has come
Everythings gonna clear up
Everybody cheer up
Walls are gonna crumble
All men will be humble
Feeling it getting stronger
Wont be down much longer
We will be free
When the time has come
When the time has come
I beieve the time has come
Feels like a change
When the time....

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The time.

Often I have to walk of no time
Sometimes I have to free it's way
because it is in a strange hurry
Other occasion I have to take it by my hand
When barely play the old feet
Like a sneaky witch...
The time that no longer resembles either itself
Takes me forward with invisible hands
As like wants to waist me over the peak stream of Drin River
Other times behaves like a wayward child
And cannot reach how to answer to it
Sometimes makes me to rip it like a shirt with dirty old patches
Sometimes I make its roots to soak my time of water
Because looks like it's gone mysteriously in my unseen hands
The time
The most matured mist that moves according itself
With no time to even eat itself
And forgets to measure it's loss
Trimmed and extended
Squashed in itself
Like a cubic of barren minds
The time that got stuck at place of no place
Bearing myself in, also
Calling me an easy simple element... Which it's not true...
The time with transparent of double green rhythm
Through the entangled hair
A time lost more then one time and not for my fault
Time of disobedience
Omissions
The time that
In a day to come, shall eat for sure you and me
Ignoring us like we never have been before
The time
Always marches with us and without us
And we only deceive ourselves
Like that we have it in forever in our hands...
The time.

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The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

(carly simon)
Take a look around now
Change the direction
Adjust the tuning
Try a new translation
Dont look at your man in the same old way
Take a new picture
Just because you dont see shooting stars
Doesnt mean it isnt perfect
Cant you see...
Its the stuff that dreams are made of
Its the slow and steady fire
Its the stuff that dreams are made of
Its your heart and souls desire
Its the stuff that dreams are made of
So whats this about your best friend?
Shes got a brand new shiny boy
And theyre moving out to malibu
To play with all his pretty toys
And you feel closed in by the same four walls
The same old conversation
With the same old guy youve know for years
But use your imagination
And you will see....
Its the stuff that dreams are made of
Its the slow and steady fire
Its the stuff that dreams are made of
Its your heart and souls desire
Its the stuff that dreams are made of
What if the prince on the horse in your fairytale
Is right here in disguise
And what if the stars youve been reaching so high for
Are shining in his eyes
Dont look at yourself in the same old way
Take another picture
Shoot the stars off in your own backyard
Dont look any further
And you will see
Its the stuff that dreams are made of....

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I don't like a lot of the stuff that goes on in the art world, but it's hard to be old and like what goes on around you.

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From the time that every day had begun (Strambotto Toscano)

From the time that every day had begun
life has got a struggle, an ageless kind of plea,
and from the awakening of the white hot sun,
even creatures in the unbounded sea
was threatened as they were having some fun
yet from all of these things our true love stands free
as it sparkles like a star during the darkest night,
forever shines bright with its own kind of light.

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Like A River In The Sky

today at its wit's end
can be a chair
under an umbrella
beside a huge tree
in the house

today can be an orderly
thought
sitting down
troubles
letting things once
turbulent simmer
slowly
seeping under your
skin

i put my feet on the
center table
my hands on my navel
i gaze
to all that my eyes
can hold
around me

nothing in particular
i just flow to the air
like a river
in the sky

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Between the time that the day dies

Between the time that the day dies
and the sun hangs precious
like a ruby in the sky
and the time that the day breaks
and the sun is fresh and new
like a orange
in the morning dawn,
man and woman
is entranced with the night
which gives flight
to their passions to be one
and although they are
destined to die at a time
the bliss of life
and the intimacy of loving
and the wonders of the world
is their pleasures to share.

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I Like Your Silence For The Past Few Days

i like your silence for the past few days
nonetheless,
i am hearing more what you do not have to say
there is this silence of absence
that speaks well of you

there is this fondness that was not there before
there is this whisper that is more patient than the scream
gentler, so filled with wisdom

more beautiful than the routinized hellos
more meaningful than everyday

i guess it is when you speak less
that you speak most wisely.

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A Day Like No Other in the Coming Years

A Day Like No Other in the Coming Years
By: Adam M. Snow

A day like no other in the coming years,
whether we suffer from lost or fears.
But together united after township pass
the love of those who loved; alas:
it be that of hate which plagues all hearts.
Alas! Love the reason hate departs.
But a mystery of love, a day like no other,
losing light by hate to another.
Fading away like a rose in the fall
without thy love, we lost all.

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The Time That Slips On My Hands

the time that slips on my hands
splits through my fingers

so fast like a dream that cuts
itself before dawn
when i wake up sweating
and feel the need of a
glass of cold water

slowly the sands of time fall
on my feet

the winds of change blow it
and then
i feel the emptiness of its
departure

the heart is left wondering
what is it that is left undone

the mind has answers but as usual
it fails to consider the
reasoning ability of feelings

you look at fate in the eye
feeling so guilty and wasted

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Like Airplanes Up In The Sky

Come to me through the angles of lost
Science,
Of how the pleasant men used to have to
Look at the earth:
Now there are no unicorns,
And all of the counties are taking down the
Highest swings—it has something to do with
Human relations
And the ways toward which the children
Have disappeared—
But somewhere in my house right now
Lies an echo of your memory that looks
Very much like you—
I almost didn't have the time to
Graduate high school,
But the skulls are becoming further and
Further unburied—
And the angels are beginning to look again
Like airplanes up in the sky.

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The Time That God Walks

why does deliverance feel like
the old woman's jagged fingernails
digging in the dirt?
while poetry screams from
weeping willows and dead spiders...
light finds it way through crack and crevice,
dancing in the little boy's palm!
there is a song that dwells
in things that seem most still.
graveyards come alive in the dead of night.
and streetlights write history
on streets deserted and quiet.
while lamps shine in closed windows
as a testament to memory.
this is the time that god walks,
her long hair grey with suffering.
and stopping on the corner she lights a smoke,
while stray cats rub against her bony legs.
'if only they had drank the cup of suffering,
they would have known! '
she puts out her smoke,
and starts sweeping away bodies!

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Like A Thief In The Night

Like a thief in the night, you have stolen from me;
I thought that your principles guaranteed this was going to be
A fair and just process, where righteousness actually mattered-
Alas, you, in your allowance of this iniquity, must be flattered
By this suggestion-you are but a pittance of what you ought to be;
Where is this ideal of justice that my teachers taught to me! ?

What an unmitigated shame! I risked my life for your ideals!
I have begged and pleaded, yet, you have ignored all my appeals
For redress, in the face of this wholly-avoided tragedy;
And still, you seem to revel, as I obviate your iniquity.
Instead of law and order, you have gifted anarchy and chaos-
Your failures shall be exposed, no matter what the cost,
For all the world to see-they may be your judge and jury-
The sentence for your prejudice, their unceasing ire and fury!

-Maurice Harris,26 April 2011

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When I Look At The Time That I Have Wasted Years Ago

i feel like a frozen glass filled with water in the freezer
when i look back to all the years that i have wasted
doing the things where i can never put my best
because that is what father want me to be
i leave all the traces of what i love in those years
that still ask me where i am
where i live what i have been doing lately

when they heard that i am into law they all laughed
and then sighed
that is not the name that they first know me
they have a word for me
written in the poems that i once wrote
my name was lust and love all bound together
in one piece
my name was written in the cover book of the literature book
in the maiden issues
of the poetry collections of lilia and tita

i look back again and they all raise their hands back
as though to embrace me
back into their bosoms again
they are calling my name

you are poetry.please come back to us.
i know the reason why i am sad.
i have forgotten my real name.

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Growing From The Seed

But whom is to say how that seed will grow?
A change with the bitterness and cold of times covered in snow.
Who are we to judge how someone will be.
It's not already chosen.
Not even with the best intentions can fortune tellers always be right.
For a prediction a lot of the time are based on intuition.
The gut, the instinct baring.
The soul glowing with aura that makes you believe one thing.
It is as it is.
With a closed minds we choose to accept it as the only possibility.
But what of the other possibilities.
Do they fizzle out because of our bias beliefs because of what we know?
Knowledge is food we choose to eat, but do we feed others the same thing?
Or do we let them choose for them selves?
A spoon forcefully put in someone's mouth.
Doesn't mean they will agree with it, or like it.
They might just spit it back out.
Yuk, your wrong the child says as he regurgitates it as if he is wiser then we are.
And in some ways he might be.
For he hasn't yet made many decisions, based on influence of others.

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Like Bright Sunlight Underneath The Moon

Muse- I want to see you wearing barrettes
In Paris-
Alma- rings of golden satellites between brown
Knuckles-
Warm sweet kisses underneath broken school
Busses- Alma-
Warm sweet places, like hot clay in
Art class- and easels waiting in the broken
Monuments of honeysuckle daylight
With saw horses underneath open hearts:
The way the wilderness waits across the canal
For you- Alma,
To step into the crepuscule of the burning sugar canes
At the dead ends of suburbia,
To leave the senses to go to sleep behind you,
And to start our barefooted, your feet
The size of toy boats, as you exhilarate the heavens
And pull them down to examine your own heavens-
And they see the truth to your passivity,
As the canoe lays tinkered up to the bank, underneath
The holly you left behind
Being given little kisses to its throat by tadpoles
Whose only hope is for metamorphosis
To join with your heavens- to bask across the
Fields who grow rich in the antediluvian things that
Evolve in your longing classrooms-
They follow you- muse, as you go leaping,
Caramel- muse of honey and applesauce-
Like bright sunlight underneath the moon.

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Oh I Do Like To Die Beside The Seaside

Oh, i would like to die beside the seaside
In dreams that set me free
My spirit blowing out to sea
Body ceasing to be in this wild deep cemetery.
Wonders cast will fill my soul
While my past on tide will roll.
To breathe the one clean air
To find her in dreams somewhere
One foot on Heaven's stair
-But then i wake up in a chair.
Oh i would like to die beside the seaside
Sunlit diamonds scatter the ocean
As seabirds, freebirds, chatter in motion
And schools of whales teach love and devotion
The haunted songs that they bring
Across deepest waters ring.
As i climb to nimbus height
Flying like a roguish kite, embracing blue moonlight
Chasing dancing stardust sprite
On fiery journey burning bright
Alas- with reality i am woken, as my reverie is broken.
Oh i do like to die beside the seaside
Tossed and blown to warmer climes
The wind whispers unwritten lines.
A soothing promise of love's mystique
Eternal dancing cheek to cheek.
Then gliding galleon rides the sea
On pillowed cloud just sent for me
This injured dove now flaps its wings
To bathe in sunset as angel sings
In fleeting beauty as my heart clings.
Yes i did like to die beside the seaside
Beside the seaside-fate called to me.

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I Wish You Found the Time to Find Me

I wish you found the time to find me.
Not just to see me,
In chance encounters when we meet!
To appear out of the blue...
In such out of the way places,
To say hello when we greet!
And I...
With these deep feelings I have for you,
Sitting inside of me wishing you knew.

I wish you found the time to find me.
I wish you could witness the preparation taken,
To await your presence each time...
We catch each other by surprise.
And I find that look in your eyes,
So priceless.

'Oh hi!
It's you again!
You too.
Have a good day.'

I wish you found the time to find me,
The one to value!
The one you discover to have met,
By an accident...
That happened to have blessed,
Your life and mine.
And not just merely as an occurrence...
Of a repeated coincidence!
Planned.

But who knew...
Just how 'lucky' two like us can be?
What a karmic fate we share?
You...
And me?
Meeting like this?
Isn't it breath taking?

Would you say that to me,
I wonder?
When we cuddle and it is raining,
With lightening and thunder!

I wish you found the time to find me.
As I have found you...
Not quite yet,
To take notice of my efforts!
Perhaps I should apply the basics?
Instead of the diverse creative approach?

Yes!
I had not thought,
You may prefer the 'basic-in-my-face-stuff'.
But declaring, 'I want to jump your bones! '
May be too offensive.
Even today!

Oh...
I am getting tired of these inner monologues!
They go on and on and on and on...
And I have yet to select my disguise for tomorrow.

I wish you found the time to find me.
I am running out of ideas!
And I fear your rejection!

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