Stride

Do I walk silent or do I run loud?
Do I feel the pull of human make long and sound?

The inner answers are arduous and swift, listening with patience only makes the senses motion sick.

But we do--
We listen and somehow learn to grow for that pain understanding that manifests to strides we do not yet know.

Sing it Lady...
Hard and Fast.

Sing it Gentle-Man...
For your parents to feel life's pass.

We are our stories.
We are the stride of make-break-it-all.

Be that Eddy Vedder singing truth on an acoustic guitar,
reaching that Soft Soul who needs a power diaphragm channeler
Sacred and make howler.

We all sing it.
We all stride it.
We all be not afraid of the loud fear vibration of nightly news.

We digest our daily dose of whats, wheres, how, why
And then...
Heel-to-Toe the message of understand and try.

Try to be that embrace of learning where not to go
but
how to be.

This is our human labyrinth to seek what is unknown and...
Oh
So
Beautifully fly without stride.

Bad Ass Mama Mew

Mama Mew purr for us all.

Say your Mama name proud and balls-to-the-wall.

You cradle Self so feline demure but under the velvety cloak coat, you bring it For Sure

Loud and sometimes for
Fear.

Mama Mew how daringly soothe you sing.
To ease your babes til their rest remains.

But don't be quick in thinking She is done
with her
Blood Boil quest making the world play a note that can make us undone.

With glory, with pride stand for the tide and current know
we
all
bling bling the glitter of self soothe gleam.

She is Bad Ass Mama Mew broad casting message of uterine pulse vibrating message for
Her
You
I
Think.

Lonely

I feel insecure.

I know there are things that are meant to transpire yet where do I feel connected?  Where do I feel complete?  Is it a baby?  Is it that some something that strangers' symbol offer or is it that nothing nothing that feels like something but ends up,

nothing?

The nothing is something.  Dr. Seuss was right of rhythms.  The world is polar and synergy.  We who live, are full to the rim with sayings and praying for the answers that come consistently infrequently.

Lonely is this infrequency.  The energy is not put forth and in the end not received.
Where are all the bees man?  Where are all the bees?

NO pollination is happening and the cold is so cold.  Where are all the bees?  Sleeping and being dormant for the storm of earth lecture basin to yell what she feels is not being heard.

Be us of sound direction round.  And find that gravity weight for something magically great learning what we collectively need to do to create that something something mate.

There are no sapphire answers but the quest to find is magnificent in all minds.  Living is, living is...

Lonely or not.