Monday morning's mourning.
Some way heart come pouring.
Fill up the universe again.
Fresh, clean life reverse the pain.
Listen to the little children
As they hasten fit puzzle's plan.
Try and figure out the issue.
Rise and fall, Mom brings a tissue.
Grieving helps to mend the wounds.
Band aid covers pretend healed soon.
Are the choices just these two:
Band aid or face grieving's zoo?
Ignore the problem and hope away,
It will go if pretend I say.
Or look at closely the whole pain,
How and why and feelings shame.
Does the crying of the pain
Help the child get whole again?
Does the ignoring of the same
Create even more pain and shame?
For a life covered with band aids
Becomes a mummy as real skin fades.
Covered up by plastic skin
Not alive fantastic win.
Grieving is not acceptable;
Seething's anger, hurt and fall.
In our world of make believe
We're told for Pete's sake don't grieve.
You will just be really messy
And upset fuss and silly dressing.
Going around and be real sad
Might touch my heart make me feel bad.
How can I stay in my head
If your emotion's grieve instead?
You'll upset the apple cart
All designed to keep feelings apart.
Band aid's break and wear away.
Destroy the skin they're trying to play.
Perhaps they work a little while,
But Nature's work brings happy smiles.
Monday Morning's Mourning
by Loveson G. Flower
Monday, 10:50 AM, 9/29/97
Cafe Barrone, Menlo Park
Dream-Awake Spiritual Practice: Keep the Mind to the rhyme. Let the Heart do its part. So beyond either mode, the Soul shows the road. Life Purpose: Help free Spirits of my fellow creatures & myself. See Beauty, others & me. Reduce suffering. Help bring Light to Shadow & vice-versa. Life plan: All’s welcome. Follow Light & Love. Be a team. Pay it forward. Cultivate calm. Breathe. Forgive. Let Go.
Monday, September 29, 1997
Friday, September 26, 1997
All Deserve Grace
Jet lag is starting,
My energy smarting
With much more to do,
Before such is through.
Have to do the fences,
For the puppy's dances.
Must clean up the house,
For Psychodrama joust.
Want to get to bed on time.
Fighting sleepy won't be fine.
Be aware, awake for them.
Beware not forsake and shame.
Let the gremlins come on out,
With their friendly fun or shout.
They are in there breaking out.
Way bares breathing's aching doubt.
For the asthma is not physical,
But some plasma kissed emotional.
Only have in times difficult,
Like when Sandra's kindness not felt.
Couldn't breathe when we went to bed.
Asthma speaking what I had not said.
That I'm having problems here.
Unconscious spoke sing loud and clear.
Psychodrama touches places,
My dad's & mama's busted graces.
Internal mirror of then family,
Eternal horror made temporary
By acting out scary dances,
Where we got stuck in child romances.
This is what we do all the time.
So why not do it smart this time?
Use people who are kind support,
To act the parts not mind the warts.
For in normal, unconscious way;
The other's there don't think it's play.
They are caught in their dance too,
To solve their broken romance blues.
And when our two broken records,
Try to mesh just discontent's heard.
And the missing experience,
Is still missing confirming fence
That keeps the walls still in place.
Fat weeping calls chilling grace.
For grace can come from finding out,
War's place can shun with blinding doubt.
Blinded by the childish know,
That find's no healthy wealth of grow.
So let the child parts that are stuck,
Come play with friends hearts not just luck.
For some are lucky in their dance,
To find missing experience.
And never have to really know,
That their inner parts found grow.
Every one deserves such grace,
Even the most hurt in their race.
All Deserve Grace
by Loveson G. Flower
Friday 2:22 PM, 9/26/97
Burger King, Redwood City
My energy smarting
With much more to do,
Before such is through.
Have to do the fences,
For the puppy's dances.
Must clean up the house,
For Psychodrama joust.
Want to get to bed on time.
Fighting sleepy won't be fine.
Be aware, awake for them.
Beware not forsake and shame.
Let the gremlins come on out,
With their friendly fun or shout.
They are in there breaking out.
Way bares breathing's aching doubt.
For the asthma is not physical,
But some plasma kissed emotional.
Only have in times difficult,
Like when Sandra's kindness not felt.
Couldn't breathe when we went to bed.
Asthma speaking what I had not said.
That I'm having problems here.
Unconscious spoke sing loud and clear.
Psychodrama touches places,
My dad's & mama's busted graces.
Internal mirror of then family,
Eternal horror made temporary
By acting out scary dances,
Where we got stuck in child romances.
This is what we do all the time.
So why not do it smart this time?
Use people who are kind support,
To act the parts not mind the warts.
For in normal, unconscious way;
The other's there don't think it's play.
They are caught in their dance too,
To solve their broken romance blues.
And when our two broken records,
Try to mesh just discontent's heard.
And the missing experience,
Is still missing confirming fence
That keeps the walls still in place.
Fat weeping calls chilling grace.
For grace can come from finding out,
War's place can shun with blinding doubt.
Blinded by the childish know,
That find's no healthy wealth of grow.
So let the child parts that are stuck,
Come play with friends hearts not just luck.
For some are lucky in their dance,
To find missing experience.
And never have to really know,
That their inner parts found grow.
Every one deserves such grace,
Even the most hurt in their race.
All Deserve Grace
by Loveson G. Flower
Friday 2:22 PM, 9/26/97
Burger King, Redwood City
Thursday, September 25, 1997
Slavery's War Unknown
On the plane to Chicago,
Back to my name. No Key Largo
Any more to play all day.
Kinda nervous that have to pay.
Pay for all my dalliance.
Wonder 'bout my allegiance.
What is my commitment to?
Be an unrelenting fool?
Can I exercise my life?
Use muscles, mind, sex for wife?
Use my great intelligence,
To make some kind of difference?
Have everything, I guess.
Though no Bill Gates, I have largess.
Have more material than love.
And have love real from above.
Puppies, kitties, goats, wild birds.
Have plants, trees, See & these words.
Have warm friends who care for me.
Have Allied Arts charmed symphony.
Have Psychodrama to get whole,
And to help promote as goal.
Developing skill in the arts:
Animation, sculpture, musical parts.
Have a Vision sometimes clear.
Sometimes belief transcends my fear.
Have the time to complete say.
Ten or twenty years to play.
Still might make some real babies.
For heart's sake fable pleased.
Guess I don't expect that now.
Aging's cruel reflect kills bow.
Once I was a handsome lad.
Many girls thought winsome glad.
Eyes clear blue & shocking locks,
Of long blond hair that knocked their socks.
Seeing their reaction then,
Believing forever I should win.
When an end to some romance,
Another sent to come and dance.
Depending on my attracts power,
Pretending not an addicts sewer.
Live forever, loves a plenty.
Gave my flower of youth away.
In those years of unconsciousness,
Most commit for marriage bliss.
Although it's common in our age,
That American's have less love than rage.
Most of marriages don't work.
Wind up calling the other "jerk."
Arranged marriages in East,
Often are carriages to feast
Compared to ours of our choosing.
With all our choice how come we're losing?
Is it because inside we,
Have holes as causes of dying?
Wife-beatings and child abuse,
Are so prevalent seems screw is loose.
How has our culture devolved,
From 1930's wholesome friends proud?
Now for just a small pittance,
We leave Detroit for hot west's dance.
Everything geared economy.
Can't get us take vacation's be.
On the weekends we watch sports.
Every night Tele's fat warts.
Rush to work and then to buy.
Fast food, fast love, never fly.
Winner take all society.
One in thousand live the dream.
Even they who have it "all,"
Seem trapped in desert's garden fall.
In the sixties some did try,
To make love not war with heart's cry.
The powers saw and had a fit.
Invaded minds to insure we quit.
Just go back to slavery,
Wrapped up as economy.
Buy the new car, everything.
Focus material not sing.
So our selves are hardly here.
Drowned on shelf while we drink beer.
And myriad of drugs out there;
Like work, sex, movies, malls shout "Here!"
Want to try do resist all,
Of material's seduction call.
Have doubt of successful try,
With millions of messages to buy.
They say that I will be fine when;
I buy the new, better kind then.
But after buying so much,
I am quite sure that can't buy crutch.
And with relationship holes blue,
Promotion makes desperate true.
I'll just buy that new boat now.
Look. They'll see I'm proud, then bow.
We'll forget the mounting bills.
Buy some more and take some pills.
Quick and easy, like a child.
Change the channel, feeling's file
In the folder: "Just ignore."
Find a new hole. Must get more.
Look real hard in Western eyes.
Where's innocence, kind replies?
Where's soft love across the land,
Helping Life and fellow man?
Hope it's still there in each one.
Buried deep sometimes can't come.
Wish the war in our land was,
Apparent to understand cause.
It's hard to fight war unknown,
That you're object for slave's owned.
Slavery's War Unknown
by Loveson G. Flower
Thursday, 4:35 PM 9/25/97
On plane from Paris to Chicago
Back to my name. No Key Largo
Any more to play all day.
Kinda nervous that have to pay.
Pay for all my dalliance.
Wonder 'bout my allegiance.
What is my commitment to?
Be an unrelenting fool?
Can I exercise my life?
Use muscles, mind, sex for wife?
Use my great intelligence,
To make some kind of difference?
Have everything, I guess.
Though no Bill Gates, I have largess.
Have more material than love.
And have love real from above.
Puppies, kitties, goats, wild birds.
Have plants, trees, See & these words.
Have warm friends who care for me.
Have Allied Arts charmed symphony.
Have Psychodrama to get whole,
And to help promote as goal.
Developing skill in the arts:
Animation, sculpture, musical parts.
Have a Vision sometimes clear.
Sometimes belief transcends my fear.
Have the time to complete say.
Ten or twenty years to play.
Still might make some real babies.
For heart's sake fable pleased.
Guess I don't expect that now.
Aging's cruel reflect kills bow.
Once I was a handsome lad.
Many girls thought winsome glad.
Eyes clear blue & shocking locks,
Of long blond hair that knocked their socks.
Seeing their reaction then,
Believing forever I should win.
When an end to some romance,
Another sent to come and dance.
Depending on my attracts power,
Pretending not an addicts sewer.
Live forever, loves a plenty.
Gave my flower of youth away.
In those years of unconsciousness,
Most commit for marriage bliss.
Although it's common in our age,
That American's have less love than rage.
Most of marriages don't work.
Wind up calling the other "jerk."
Arranged marriages in East,
Often are carriages to feast
Compared to ours of our choosing.
With all our choice how come we're losing?
Is it because inside we,
Have holes as causes of dying?
Wife-beatings and child abuse,
Are so prevalent seems screw is loose.
How has our culture devolved,
From 1930's wholesome friends proud?
Now for just a small pittance,
We leave Detroit for hot west's dance.
Everything geared economy.
Can't get us take vacation's be.
On the weekends we watch sports.
Every night Tele's fat warts.
Rush to work and then to buy.
Fast food, fast love, never fly.
Winner take all society.
One in thousand live the dream.
Even they who have it "all,"
Seem trapped in desert's garden fall.
In the sixties some did try,
To make love not war with heart's cry.
The powers saw and had a fit.
Invaded minds to insure we quit.
Just go back to slavery,
Wrapped up as economy.
Buy the new car, everything.
Focus material not sing.
So our selves are hardly here.
Drowned on shelf while we drink beer.
And myriad of drugs out there;
Like work, sex, movies, malls shout "Here!"
Want to try do resist all,
Of material's seduction call.
Have doubt of successful try,
With millions of messages to buy.
They say that I will be fine when;
I buy the new, better kind then.
But after buying so much,
I am quite sure that can't buy crutch.
And with relationship holes blue,
Promotion makes desperate true.
I'll just buy that new boat now.
Look. They'll see I'm proud, then bow.
We'll forget the mounting bills.
Buy some more and take some pills.
Quick and easy, like a child.
Change the channel, feeling's file
In the folder: "Just ignore."
Find a new hole. Must get more.
Look real hard in Western eyes.
Where's innocence, kind replies?
Where's soft love across the land,
Helping Life and fellow man?
Hope it's still there in each one.
Buried deep sometimes can't come.
Wish the war in our land was,
Apparent to understand cause.
It's hard to fight war unknown,
That you're object for slave's owned.
Slavery's War Unknown
by Loveson G. Flower
Thursday, 4:35 PM 9/25/97
On plane from Paris to Chicago
Mosquito's in My Room
Little buzzing mosquito, circles round my ear.
Bitter, fuzzy moth's eat clothes, 'til buzz sound fly's fear.
Wakes me up from sleeping land, to learn that bitten I
Take the poison's weeping plan, to burn like kitten tied.
As the poison courses through, my breathing gets real tight.
And the reason forces new, my seething body's fright.
What of now malaria, or other dread disease?
Can somehow diary solve, my Mother's deadened ease?
For she is numbed to our been, pretending I am dead.
Our be not numbered of kin, when sending wisdom read.
Wisdom isn't much a part, of our relationship.
His dumb insist such a wart, she'd rather sink our ship.
So mosquito's disease seems, to be my family's pain.
Still missing whole. Uneasy screams, seems happy flees again.
Having Barbara & Thomas; and Lloyd, John, Steve and Pat
Among the others in the past, employed as loving cast
Did soothe the pain of little Paul, in trying's comprehend.
Dead's losing refrain appall, of dying family's end.
But soothing isn't near enough, to end disease progress.
The losing wisdom here is rough, and bends to me regress.
The answer to mosquito's call, as she stings my skin
Is dancer's beautiful fall, as she sings heart's rain.
Though fallen far there from grace, of those who might have loved,
No sullen war from care displaced, can oppose new sight's love.
Mosquito's in My Room
by Loveson G. Flower
Thursday, 4:12 AM 9/25/97
in bed at Les Zeribas, Sanary sur Mer, France
Bitter, fuzzy moth's eat clothes, 'til buzz sound fly's fear.
Wakes me up from sleeping land, to learn that bitten I
Take the poison's weeping plan, to burn like kitten tied.
As the poison courses through, my breathing gets real tight.
And the reason forces new, my seething body's fright.
What of now malaria, or other dread disease?
Can somehow diary solve, my Mother's deadened ease?
For she is numbed to our been, pretending I am dead.
Our be not numbered of kin, when sending wisdom read.
Wisdom isn't much a part, of our relationship.
His dumb insist such a wart, she'd rather sink our ship.
So mosquito's disease seems, to be my family's pain.
Still missing whole. Uneasy screams, seems happy flees again.
Having Barbara & Thomas; and Lloyd, John, Steve and Pat
Among the others in the past, employed as loving cast
Did soothe the pain of little Paul, in trying's comprehend.
Dead's losing refrain appall, of dying family's end.
But soothing isn't near enough, to end disease progress.
The losing wisdom here is rough, and bends to me regress.
The answer to mosquito's call, as she stings my skin
Is dancer's beautiful fall, as she sings heart's rain.
Though fallen far there from grace, of those who might have loved,
No sullen war from care displaced, can oppose new sight's love.
Mosquito's in My Room
by Loveson G. Flower
Thursday, 4:12 AM 9/25/97
in bed at Les Zeribas, Sanary sur Mer, France
Wednesday, September 24, 1997
Wheels In Motion
The Wheels are in motion,
As I sit by the Ocean
And prepare to fly home,
Am aware of why's tone.
I told Barbara this afternoon,
My soul desires bliss' laughter soon.
Why for Les Zeribas to own,
Is to cry "I love you" to Paul's son.
The inner child who is so hurt,
Who believes has no real worth.
Is the one I want to give,
Such loved fun sky's chance to live.
For he deserves so very much,
For all he serves to their lives touch
With his large, giving heart.
He is our living part.
When He connects with Jan,
Barbara's and Thomas' son,
I know he's really there.
I feel he truly cares.
My mind and heart agree,
That he is worth much be.
Worth much more than he knows.
Worth such a worthy toast.
So Paulie if you're there,
Please know I love your care.
Love everything you do.
Love how you pull me through.
My tears now in my eyes,
Are your grateful replies.
You're welcome for the land.
Thank you for understand.
Wheels In Motion
by Loveson G. Flower
Wednesday, 3:33 PM 9/24/97
Sanary sur Mer, France
As I sit by the Ocean
And prepare to fly home,
Am aware of why's tone.
I told Barbara this afternoon,
My soul desires bliss' laughter soon.
Why for Les Zeribas to own,
Is to cry "I love you" to Paul's son.
The inner child who is so hurt,
Who believes has no real worth.
Is the one I want to give,
Such loved fun sky's chance to live.
For he deserves so very much,
For all he serves to their lives touch
With his large, giving heart.
He is our living part.
When He connects with Jan,
Barbara's and Thomas' son,
I know he's really there.
I feel he truly cares.
My mind and heart agree,
That he is worth much be.
Worth much more than he knows.
Worth such a worthy toast.
So Paulie if you're there,
Please know I love your care.
Love everything you do.
Love how you pull me through.
My tears now in my eyes,
Are your grateful replies.
You're welcome for the land.
Thank you for understand.
Wheels In Motion
by Loveson G. Flower
Wednesday, 3:33 PM 9/24/97
Sanary sur Mer, France
Sunday, September 21, 1997
Must Fate Sting?
Is wholeness for just a season?
Not goal lasting, busting reason
To stay in Artist's life.
Sue playing's parting's strife.
Without such a hope and goal,
Wizard's dream clutched airy pole.
Nothing really, really there.
Moth fling killing in night air.
As he circles round the light,
Does he purposeful kill life?
Or is light an accident?
Was his plight planned, placid sent?
If I have no hope and dream;
Live, survive is doped man's scream.
Trying to get screaming out,
Plying clenched teeth's teeming shout.
All sucked in, tucked far away;
Appalling Lucky's last luck days.
Just waiting for hangman's call.
Must fate sting door to planned all?
Light please shine,
Your brightness share.
Might ease moth's
Poor, frightened care.
Must Fate Sting?
by Loveson G. Flower
Sunday 3:30 PM, 9/21/97
Sanary at beach
Not goal lasting, busting reason
To stay in Artist's life.
Sue playing's parting's strife.
Without such a hope and goal,
Wizard's dream clutched airy pole.
Nothing really, really there.
Moth fling killing in night air.
As he circles round the light,
Does he purposeful kill life?
Or is light an accident?
Was his plight planned, placid sent?
If I have no hope and dream;
Live, survive is doped man's scream.
Trying to get screaming out,
Plying clenched teeth's teeming shout.
All sucked in, tucked far away;
Appalling Lucky's last luck days.
Just waiting for hangman's call.
Must fate sting door to planned all?
Light please shine,
Your brightness share.
Might ease moth's
Poor, frightened care.
Must Fate Sting?
by Loveson G. Flower
Sunday 3:30 PM, 9/21/97
Sanary at beach
Mother Teresa's Passing
Mother Teresa died just last week.
Her archetypal service to meek
Brought the World's attention to helpless;
Starving, tortured, forgotten homeless.
Soon a Christian Saint, for sure.
But her message ain't Christ's cure.
At least not the "Born Again"
Message rot that's Corn's refrain.
Perhaps Jesus would be proud,
That Mother Teresa's loud
Service to the World at large
Wasn't about belief required.
But was for humanness true,
Help reduce suffering's blues.
This is message all can hear,
Even Martian's strange culture.
Jesus' words originally
Weren't turds church insistently,
Tries to push on down our throats,
When we're too young to lies smote.
That's why Mother Teresa
Gives lie to what Christian's saw.
To help Hindu, Moslem
In their suffering and shame,
Is to help fellow creatures
And not be concerned with prayers
To a God they don't believe.
Kindness smote remote God's grieve.
As for me, I realize now;
Purpose isn't complete somehow.
Beyond freeing creatures true,
Reduce suffering We must add too.
Mother Teresa's Passing
Saturday, 4:10 PM 9/20/97
by Loveson G. Flower
Sanary, France at Creperie
Photos of oil paintings "Mother & Child IV" and "Mother & Child II" by Bruni from www.brunijazzart.com
Friday, September 19, 1997
Merry-Go-Round
Merry, Merry-Go-Round,
Very hard to still stay down.
Little ones having fun.
Twirling around like clowns.
Mommies making sure,
That the motion's blur
Is still safe and fun.
Can't hurt little ones.
Hello there, baby dear.
Wave to me and bring your cheer.
Your smiles goes on for miles.
Your laughter is so clear.
Where is my laughter now?
Did I lose it somehow?
Unable to play, or laugh too much.
Just a little chuckle smooch.
Not like healthy children.
Laughter natural beyond grins.
When was the last time,
Uncontrolled laugh's pastime
Brought me to my knees?
Like a healthy sneeze.
It is beyond the mind.
Belly laughter is fine.
Seems I often made jokes,
Making fun then and pokes.
Teasing all around.
Tried to be a clown.
But if my clown makeup,
Reflected my own make-up
It would be with a tear,
Permanently fixed there.
Need some laughing practice.
Belly shaking like jelly dish.
Where is now the clown laugh school?
Perhaps I could be laugh's fool.
Play with children and friends.
Listen to their jokes and grins.
Anything to laughter give.
Anywhere heart's joys do live.
Merry-Go-Round
by Loveson G. Flower
Friday, 4:48 PM, 9/19/97
At the Merry-Go-Round in Sanary sur Mer, France
Clown painting by unknown artist photogrphed by Loveson G. Flower at county fair in California in July, 2004
Thursday, September 18, 1997
About Inspiration's Motivation
I'm sitting on a bench in dear Sanary.
It's fitting that at sunset's dear flattery;
That I take in all it's bloom, and don't send me to my room,
'Cause quitting before quenched shames love's imagery.
Is it possible some way, that to live here is OK,
And I might learn French language and romance?
Is my skill still able, to show that I'm not feeble,
And can learn foreign behavior's dance?
For I've 20 years of so, before I have to go.
Want to spend them in life's love sublime.
I can think of no where, where beauty drinks with such care;
Where inspiration paints, writes, sings and rhymes.
But what about the puppies? Kitties, goats and love squeeze?
And our life in sunny California?
There have a grand studio, that I demand to go;
And don't want to forsake Psychodrama.
And there is dear Rob, master artist, and my job;
That I hope to master over time.
My best friend, Patricia; I would sorely miss ya.
Couldn't stand much faster dying's crime.
Could I combine perchance, California and France
For a life romantic to the end?
With less at beginning, time in France spending
Until retired tired dancing sends.
Do I deserve such love? Is the question from above
That my wounded child does seem to say.
Then my big brother, Paul; rises quick to answer call.
Says: "How soon, wild child? Of course, OK."
So how can I now glean, the space that's in between;
The two kids who often rule my days?
For wisdom is beyond, my boys singing child songs.
Included but not ruled by childhood's haze.
About Inspiration's Motivation
Wednesday, 7:00 PM 9/17/97
by Loveson G. Flower
at Sanary sur Mer, France near beach
Portrait of Sanary sur Mer by Loveson G. Flower
Saturday, September 13, 1997
Transcend My Fear
Got some sleep for weeping eyes.
Read old heart songs, believe them wise.
Want to get them typed up soon,
Catch up last 50 songs boon.
So if loved ones invite glance
Like Lloyd and Simone asked romance,
I can allow the words to flow
From my page to their world's whole.
Who knows how others do hear
If my words burn of bring some cheer.
But surely it seems obvious
That with no words they can't bring bliss.
Perhaps there might be one ear there
That desires inspiration's cheer
And resonates with these song's care.
To help free spirits, Transcend my Fear.
Transcend My Fear
by Loveson G. Flower
Friday night, 9/12/97
on plane from Chicago to Paris
Read old heart songs, believe them wise.
Want to get them typed up soon,
Catch up last 50 songs boon.
So if loved ones invite glance
Like Lloyd and Simone asked romance,
I can allow the words to flow
From my page to their world's whole.
Who knows how others do hear
If my words burn of bring some cheer.
But surely it seems obvious
That with no words they can't bring bliss.
Perhaps there might be one ear there
That desires inspiration's cheer
And resonates with these song's care.
To help free spirits, Transcend my Fear.
Transcend My Fear
by Loveson G. Flower
Friday night, 9/12/97
on plane from Chicago to Paris
Thursday, September 11, 1997
Risk is Risky
Made a decision about the money.
Execution waits before it's honey.
But just the say so seems real big.
Some milestone. Guess no longer a kid.
Kids believe they live forever.
Will take huge risks. Think it don't matter.
But grown-ups seem to see the risk.
Sometimes they freeze, won't try the task.
How to balance risk-reward?
Preserve gains and still move forward?
For with risk comes reward true.
I've seen this my whole life through.
But problem with risk is just this:
It's risky that the risk won't miss,
And want to stay and keep me scared.
Keep me frozen and unprepared
For moving on
Through Life's unknown
With armor on
And new hope gone.
Risk is Risky
9:45 AM, Thursday, 9/11/97
by Loveson G. Flower
Hobbies
Execution waits before it's honey.
But just the say so seems real big.
Some milestone. Guess no longer a kid.
Kids believe they live forever.
Will take huge risks. Think it don't matter.
But grown-ups seem to see the risk.
Sometimes they freeze, won't try the task.
How to balance risk-reward?
Preserve gains and still move forward?
For with risk comes reward true.
I've seen this my whole life through.
But problem with risk is just this:
It's risky that the risk won't miss,
And want to stay and keep me scared.
Keep me frozen and unprepared
For moving on
Through Life's unknown
With armor on
And new hope gone.
Risk is Risky
9:45 AM, Thursday, 9/11/97
by Loveson G. Flower
Hobbies
Wednesday, September 10, 1997
No Mass Transit
Standing in line at DMV.
Bureaucracy's fine but boring.
Processing all us applicants.
It is a crisis for immigrants.
The scared, wide-eyed look they have
Says so much of our system's staff
Which can come hard upon their heads.
If they can't drive legally they're dead.
One can't get work, hardly survive
Without car's legs, we cannot thrive.
To live in world of large spiders
With just worm's legs, we're food for birds.
They can run, and they can fly.
We just crawl and wonder why.
What happened to being human?
Technology's need to consume man?
Oil, Gas, and automobile.
No mass transit connections thrill.
I've been here many a time,
And never is there a short line.
Guess our enormous taxes
Can't pay enough for staff fix.
Frustration, anger; wait, wait, wait.
Hope to get to front of gate
Before lunch or closing time.
Sorry. Go back to start of line.
I send my paperwork to them.
It must get lost, jerked by gremlins.
Murphy's Law works always here.
You forgot this or that. Oh dear.
Just another day in paradise
As we're smothered in the machine's vice.
Conform. Bow down. Useless to resist.
Step out of line, suffer if you insist.
But you'll feel the jaws of steel.
Humaness steal, traded for Slave's deal.
No Mass Transit
by Loveson G. Flower
2:30 PM, 9/10/97
Standing in line at Department of Motor Vehicals (DMV), Mountain View
Bureaucracy's fine but boring.
Processing all us applicants.
It is a crisis for immigrants.
The scared, wide-eyed look they have
Says so much of our system's staff
Which can come hard upon their heads.
If they can't drive legally they're dead.
One can't get work, hardly survive
Without car's legs, we cannot thrive.
To live in world of large spiders
With just worm's legs, we're food for birds.
They can run, and they can fly.
We just crawl and wonder why.
What happened to being human?
Technology's need to consume man?
Oil, Gas, and automobile.
No mass transit connections thrill.
I've been here many a time,
And never is there a short line.
Guess our enormous taxes
Can't pay enough for staff fix.
Frustration, anger; wait, wait, wait.
Hope to get to front of gate
Before lunch or closing time.
Sorry. Go back to start of line.
I send my paperwork to them.
It must get lost, jerked by gremlins.
Murphy's Law works always here.
You forgot this or that. Oh dear.
Just another day in paradise
As we're smothered in the machine's vice.
Conform. Bow down. Useless to resist.
Step out of line, suffer if you insist.
But you'll feel the jaws of steel.
Humaness steal, traded for Slave's deal.
No Mass Transit
by Loveson G. Flower
2:30 PM, 9/10/97
Standing in line at Department of Motor Vehicals (DMV), Mountain View
Monday, September 8, 1997
Take Love Off Shelf
Ache all over, body sore here.
Seems to die now, fading somehow.
What can I eat? Bend, move my feet.
Exercise some, might bring back one.
Is life over, no green clover
To lie in there, to express care?
No new arms warm, to hold and learn
Her body's charm, she in my arms?
Am I too scared, just unprepared
To ask for love, my task above?
Disintegrate, is this my fate?
On the downhill, road to death's chill?
Seems too early, for death's stirring
And I resist, want to insist.
Stand up and fight. Exercise might
Bring back my health. Take love off shelf.
Take Love Off Shelf
by Loveson G. Flower
Monday, 5:30 AM 9/8/97
home in bed
Seems to die now, fading somehow.
What can I eat? Bend, move my feet.
Exercise some, might bring back one.
Is life over, no green clover
To lie in there, to express care?
No new arms warm, to hold and learn
Her body's charm, she in my arms?
Am I too scared, just unprepared
To ask for love, my task above?
Disintegrate, is this my fate?
On the downhill, road to death's chill?
Seems too early, for death's stirring
And I resist, want to insist.
Stand up and fight. Exercise might
Bring back my health. Take love off shelf.
Take Love Off Shelf
by Loveson G. Flower
Monday, 5:30 AM 9/8/97
home in bed
Sunday, September 7, 1997
To Love's School
Hear a little rain drop; pit pat pit.
Wash away my feint heart. Let's not quit.
Find a way fire start, to burn through
Underbrush that clogs path, to love's school.
For the bell is ringing; ding dong ding.
Time for heart song singing, love to bring.
Only few tomorrow's, in our lives.
Feel the joy and sorrows, from the lies.
See the love in all things, all around.
Seeing it can then bring, loving sounds
To the heart that's thirsty, for a drink.
See the best not worst we, don't just think.
But can feel and express,
Anything.
Then expression can bless,
With our sing.
To Love's School
by Loveson G. Flower
Sunday, 9/7/97
home in bed
Wash away my feint heart. Let's not quit.
Find a way fire start, to burn through
Underbrush that clogs path, to love's school.
For the bell is ringing; ding dong ding.
Time for heart song singing, love to bring.
Only few tomorrow's, in our lives.
Feel the joy and sorrows, from the lies.
See the love in all things, all around.
Seeing it can then bring, loving sounds
To the heart that's thirsty, for a drink.
See the best not worst we, don't just think.
But can feel and express,
Anything.
Then expression can bless,
With our sing.
To Love's School
by Loveson G. Flower
Sunday, 9/7/97
home in bed
Saturday, September 6, 1997
Lost & Not Found
Lying in bed, I rub my eyes.
They want to close and just ignore
All the pain, their see's replies
To friends we lose sad ever more.
We borned some creativity.
Vision and do, derision now.
But then our love let us almost see
Decision through love to allow
The marriage of our different parts
Produced some fruit, our love's pursuit.
But the cost of such fruitful starts
Reduced my roots, weakened stand's foot.
Haven't toppled yet to the ground
But I can tell crashing down comes.
Loves rent hope cold, lost and not found.
Why can't love swell, crushing frown son's
Or daughter's tears? Is birth just death
Of parents lives consumed for child?
Can't stand these fears, my worthless path.
Mites infest hives, then doomed kill wild.
Lost & Not Found
by Loveson G. Flower
9/6/97
home in bed
They want to close and just ignore
All the pain, their see's replies
To friends we lose sad ever more.
We borned some creativity.
Vision and do, derision now.
But then our love let us almost see
Decision through love to allow
The marriage of our different parts
Produced some fruit, our love's pursuit.
But the cost of such fruitful starts
Reduced my roots, weakened stand's foot.
Haven't toppled yet to the ground
But I can tell crashing down comes.
Loves rent hope cold, lost and not found.
Why can't love swell, crushing frown son's
Or daughter's tears? Is birth just death
Of parents lives consumed for child?
Can't stand these fears, my worthless path.
Mites infest hives, then doomed kill wild.
Lost & Not Found
by Loveson G. Flower
9/6/97
home in bed
Wednesday, September 3, 1997
Queen of Hearts
Dedicated to and in memory of Princess Diana.
Am touched with World's out-pouring
Of Love for Diana's passing.
She was a fairy princess lass
Who only seemed to fill our glass.
And though once a lowly commoner
Like us all, we elevated her
To become a Queen of Hearts somehow
Beyond royalty's fiction's bow.
And all their pomp and circumstance
Was destroyed by her youth's truthful dance.
Her lovely, honest, warm heart pain;
Her quest to grow, and her tear's rain
That washed us all just like our lives
In our unknown, desperate strives
Ignored by vicious Paparazzi
Who reflect our lusts & killed our Queen.
Diana's now a memory.
We loved so her humanity.
She was emotional with grace.
Not like Charles' dour, distant face.
Her despair at times knew no end.
Her death sometimes she sought to send.
But always loving all around:
Her children, homeless, sick friends she found.
Isn't this contrasting story
Just our own without the glory?
Powerful, thinking, controlling men
Who cannot cry, feel, only defend;
And female, heart, emotion full
Warms and comforts, with loving pulls
Us from our minds into our hearts.
Thanks Di, you showed our loving parts.
Queen of Hearts
9/3/97
by Loveson G. Flower
at Hobee's, Palo Alto
Photo from: www.myspace.com/15821460 179x209-6ko-jpg
Negotiating's Clown
Having crisis with my friend.
Am desperate to make amends.
Feeling wronged in our contract.
How can I uphold our pact?
If I only then back down,
Acting Negotiating's Clown,
And not stand up for me,
Is this Pyrrhic victory?
She might then have her money,
But serious hurt might kill funny,
Laughing, loving friendship,
More important than win's kingship.
When to hold a friend to wire
Of contract's deadline's fierce fire?
I hope we can compromise,
And both believe this wise
And see our family stakes:
Justice, learning
.....for our Hearts' sake.
Negotiating's Clown
by Loveson G. Flower
9/3/97
Hobee's
Am desperate to make amends.
Feeling wronged in our contract.
How can I uphold our pact?
If I only then back down,
Acting Negotiating's Clown,
And not stand up for me,
Is this Pyrrhic victory?
She might then have her money,
But serious hurt might kill funny,
Laughing, loving friendship,
More important than win's kingship.
When to hold a friend to wire
Of contract's deadline's fierce fire?
I hope we can compromise,
And both believe this wise
And see our family stakes:
Justice, learning
.....for our Hearts' sake.
Negotiating's Clown
by Loveson G. Flower
9/3/97
Hobee's
Love Muscles
Finally felt again today.
Let my heart come out to play.
Cried reading my old heart songs.
Stopped leaving's cold making wrong.
Touched the part who loves all this.
Like remembering how to kiss.
Engaging my love muscle's bliss,
Though limp & flabby still exist.
My piano fingers still play
Sweet music for emotions sway.
Although tied down with pain,
Arthritis makes them complain,
They still want to express
Our way through or of the mess
That we find ourselves again.
Can expression soothe the pain?
Love Muscles
by Loveson G. Flower
1:45 PM, Wednesday 9/3/97
Hobbies
Let my heart come out to play.
Cried reading my old heart songs.
Stopped leaving's cold making wrong.
Touched the part who loves all this.
Like remembering how to kiss.
Engaging my love muscle's bliss,
Though limp & flabby still exist.
My piano fingers still play
Sweet music for emotions sway.
Although tied down with pain,
Arthritis makes them complain,
They still want to express
Our way through or of the mess
That we find ourselves again.
Can expression soothe the pain?
Love Muscles
by Loveson G. Flower
1:45 PM, Wednesday 9/3/97
Hobbies
Is Enough, Enough?
Is it time to sell our stock yet?
And exit now from the rocket
That has shot us to the moon.
Is it too late, or too soon?
When is enough, enough?
How long can we swim in sea's rough?
Before we drown in ruin.
Before a clown we turn in-
To prove daddy's old, wise adage:
A fool and his money at a young age
Soon part to only remember,
"What-might-have-been-if-only" words
Which cut like knives forever more.
Like Edgar Allen Poe's raven swore
When he came tapping, tapping then
To remind Life's short & death comes when
We least expect black visitor
To escort us away forever more.
Please Wisdom say: What shall we do?
Do we fold our cards or stay a fool?
Is Enough, Enough?
by Loveson G. Flower
9/3/97
at Hobbies, Palo Alto
And exit now from the rocket
That has shot us to the moon.
Is it too late, or too soon?
When is enough, enough?
How long can we swim in sea's rough?
Before we drown in ruin.
Before a clown we turn in-
To prove daddy's old, wise adage:
A fool and his money at a young age
Soon part to only remember,
"What-might-have-been-if-only" words
Which cut like knives forever more.
Like Edgar Allen Poe's raven swore
When he came tapping, tapping then
To remind Life's short & death comes when
We least expect black visitor
To escort us away forever more.
Please Wisdom say: What shall we do?
Do we fold our cards or stay a fool?
Is Enough, Enough?
by Loveson G. Flower
9/3/97
at Hobbies, Palo Alto
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