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The Years of Passing

The years of Passing
are a Conversation between my Whisper & Your Silence
Can you Hear me Now, dancing this silent Dance, in between the shadows of Things Gone and things Yet to Come?

This Silent Dance that we both know.

in our Cellular Metabolism.  Our DNA. Our Chronic Gelatinous Lovely Cytoplasm.    The Dance that Breathes. Air. Sweet Soul. Softness. Light.

Completion.

Seasons Change their clothes like tired Strippers in a Dance Club of Laughing Gods.

And the leaves fall to the eloquent jazz of Wind & Fire.

Mothers say goodbye to children who say goodbye to mothers and fly with all their colors into the Deep.

The years of Passing
are a Conversation between my Whisper & Your Silence.  It’s a prayer we keep; a lesson, a promise… to one day be Born Again.

The Place of the Lovers

My love, I have searched for you
in so many shadowed faces
looked through the rags and rich velvet cloth
of so many different places……
that I thought I would die of the thirst of
missing YOU

I Won’t Waste

Life’s not passing any faster
My life won’t last forever
All I have is now
The breath that I’m allowed.

I get disoriented
Confuse the past and the future with the present
Love’s still the open door
True love’s worth working for

Chorus
I won’t waste a single breath
or waste a day that I have left
The air I breathe is free
as winds of fate brought you to me
Love remains the key
Each day I pray… I won’t waste.

Bridge
When I slow down I come around to see
What each breath means to me
Without you life would be… completely empty.

Hello, My Name is Art …

Hello, my name is Art.
You’ve probably seen me, here and there
in your helter-skelter life: bobbing around back alleys,
blowing dandelion seeds in hot summer’s air,
chasing Soap Bubbles across Mystical swamps & Quagmires
in Northern Ireland & who knows where …

Hello, my name is Art.
I’m a Frozen Frame in your Rancid Movie of Old Spaghetti.
I’m a Lame Duck in a Missionary Prison,
a Fragrant Fart in a Sanitary Landfill,
A Raven-God in a house of handicapped Crows.
I don’t wait for anybody – especially you – to approve me,
reject me, exalt me, connect me, destroy me, employ me or bisect me.

Hello, my name is Art.
You’ll see me sun-tanning with Negroes,
Playing Chess with Chinese,
Hanging by my toes in a White Man’s corporate Boardroom,
Leading a Revolution in a Small Latin-American Country,
and all the while Dreaming I’m a Shaman in a Sweat-Lodge.
It’s whatever your careless heart cares to dream,
on this Eternally-Raining Sunny day.

Hello, my name is Art.

You’ll look for me,
but never find me,
until you’ve found
your own Heart.

If my name was Jim
or Sum Dim, or
Cousin Slim, or
a languid Swim in
Designer Lakes …

You’d still make Mistakes
and put on the Brakes
before you’d perfected
the Real from the Fakes

but! for Art’s Sakes!

Do what it Takes
To Love all it Makes
and Caress the Creases out of your War-Torn forehead
before you put the Hummingbirds to Bed
and Instead … make a brand New Start.
Your own journey to your Sweet & Special Heart.
Yes! It’s Valentine’s Day …
Goodbye, my name is Art.

Naked Heart

We’re not concerned
with your Royalty
Your Loyalty
or your Fashion.

We don’t care
who you know
where you go
or what you’ve been:
in Someone Else’s Movie
or your own Private Dream

the Place of Innocence
lies beneath the Clothing of Deceit
you’re so afraid of your Naked Heart
that you Suffocate
in the Afternoon Heat

the Holiday Home

the Holiday Home :
a place I go to Alone.

the River Inside :
a place I can Ride, Hide, Glide, Confide

the Deeper in Me :
so comfortable, easy, simple, Free!

the SunLight in You :
or a reflection of me, looking right through?

The Bird flies in Space :
wingless wonders! we’re all borne by Grace

The City of Love :
a place we inhabit, our Hand in the Glove

The Holiday Home :
a place of Comfort! Where else can we Roam?