You know the title

No more fear. Fear is a con offered by those who don’t realize they’re peddling it to begin with, there's too much fear so please lead with love No more fear. We can identify a problem But don’t have to lose our head or compassion and respect love spirit If we are the problem Then …

Paradise.lies

Paradise lies belongs to us all, and If He were alive He’d be in the slums, the projects, wandering in the food deserts of the world stepping foot in mega churches only to tell everyone in them how full of shit they are he'd be outlawed, named a disturber of the peace now just as …

Amadeus LIVE

LA taxi cab latin beats thundering beneath as the sun sets over town leading to the Hollywood Bowl it's late in summer at the amphitheater this old film feels brand-new the orchestra readies neath the silver screen for Amadeus: life of a jealous colleague and conspirator we’re here people of the city gathered again both …

You Are America

People are losing the human touch that sense of the real visceral rapturous experience. They long for it again. Bring us an acoustic guitar and light a match to the fire pit, turn over our furniture and let’s dance around the bonfire. We’ll paint tomorrow morning and get to work I’ll make the coffee You …

Graveyard Gangster Film

Last night I saw a film A gangster film in a graveyard. no shit, with wild children seeking to be yet still tamed without seeing but knowing. Shall we dance just like this? Liberated and in-step with ahead and behind and top and bottom where all are merely one repeating in breathing, rhyming in its …

I’m going back in

I’m going back in where things are seen by stepping back and laying low staying loose, ready to go this is only a pome, but we’re on the move never free bound to earth to make the scene just breath and see dance and dwell right in your beat there you’ll see it’s you and …

I think I’ll be living in Santa Fe pretty soon

I think I’ll be living in Santa Fe soon picture me walking ‘long a New Mexico road that Pueblo adobe & streetlights of candlit brown paper bags on a winters night me and the moon and You standing before St. Francis cathedral yea I can see it I can see that being my little midnight …

I write on the backs of napkins

I write on the backs of napkins I write on scraps of tissue paper for you ought to not sweat the fancy jet the time yet, no or the old lessons of propriety don't stack that shelf full of fancy volumes, neither no, don't overload the head with journals with their pages crisp and clean …

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