From Plato to King Solomen,
And all of those who have been wise.
Elaborated, analyzing many subjects,
Common to all blankets of disguise.
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In all seasons, and at all times,
Luring me to their footsteps.
Steep hillsides clawing at the sky,
Multicolor quilts grandmother wove.
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So small is the distance,
Between politics and prose.
Just as the short distance,
Between the grave and the rose.
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Sitting here with writer's bloc,
Writing down any thoughts for today.
Adding to these daily, one just might,
Turn magically into a poem.
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Sometimes life is hectic, Sometimes planned.
Bad decisions are made, with consequences.
But there are no coincidences, or are there?
Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in1846.
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Connecting links,
And third eye blinks.
Setting minds free,
With ink blots and rhyme.
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Vividly recalling, the unyielding heat,
Top of my head, to the bottom of my feet.
Could this letter, be really for me.
Ultimate failure, unconditional defeat.
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Chocolate or sex, in proper context,
So important, we know indeed.
But which shall we choose,
As we go on that cruise?
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I don't really want to die,
Just to become famous.
Wait until the last prayers,
Are said over me.
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Headed in the wrong direction,
Someone will always turn you around.
Coming to absolute standstills,
Prude advice always rock sound.
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