Thursday, March 3, 2011

My my son

Oh what a joy to be such a strange animal?

Water bills , pink pills, and such.

Oh what mysterious minds we have?

Grandfather clocks, worshiping rocks,we just love their sparkle.

You thought you were and then you wernt

You thought there was more and then there was infinity.

Death never deceived you.

He was always truthful when he said he wanted to visit.

We kept him outside until he broke the door.

Oh no! Not my beautiful stained oak door from the 15th century!

Oh yeah! He broke that door.

My my son!

1 comment:

Andrew Tipton said...

To end here?
To let the thoughts tremble on paper, but not available for other eyes?
I am on your side. I love what you have to say, and what it means to me. Selfishly, I am longing to click on this link sometime and find that there are again thoughts flowing out. Maybe ego thoughts. Maybe twisted. Maybe truthless. (All doubtful). Sometimes we just need the thoughts of others to make our minds bleed, to get the red stuff going to our hearts and brains. I hope you're well brother Trent. I would love to read more of your mind, it is such a rare thing to want that. I rarely want that from anyone. thank you for the times you did write, for the effort. However worthless or priceless or delicate. Thanks.