Mostly quotes,some art. A little bit o' everything

If you listen closely, you can hear it. Hear the sounds of the angels falling. For only the good angels land on their feet.

[wordsbyt]

I was in my backyard last night. Sun on my back, dogs in my yard, and I realized that this may just be as close as I will ever get to Heaven.

And I was ok with that……

Cause’ right now Heaven’s right here

[wordsbyt]

[wordsbyt]

The moon was still awake. Just a silhouette, but still there.

She wanted to share the morning.

For the sun gets up early, and shines his light so bright.

And the moon, she gets tired from lighting up the night.

But today she wanted to share.

She wanted to share the morning.

[wordsbyt]

“Glitterford Reserve”

[wordsbyt]

Notes from a lifetime Second Banana;

The naive person in me wants to make a difference

The idealist in me knows I can

The realist in me knows that someone else will probably take the credit

--so, what I need to figure out is, am I seeking the result or the regard?

[wordsbyt]

Can you accept me?

For me?

What I’ve found out about people in general, is it’s okay as long as you agree with them. There are two opinions in their world. The correct one, theirs. And the wrong one which is if you disagree with them. And, people assume about you based on your looks, or sexuality, or ethnicity. Especially the ones that want to call you out because of it. And usually, they are the same ones that assume of you based on the things they are calling you on. " I hate _______ people because they all…..”

-do you realize that makes YOU the same or worse than what you hate?

Live your life.

Love your life.

But don’t hate someone that YOU DON’T know, because you assumed something about them that is based on a generalized idea that may not be true. THAT is racism. THAT is hate. THAT is the problem.

It’s not white people,

It’s not black people,

It’s not gay people,

It’s not straight people,

It’s not.

It’s BAD people.

And they come in all colors,

And all lines of work,

And all sexes,

And all sexualities.

Don’t be one.

It’s that simple.

“Can you accept me?

For me?

Because I’m gay, you assume?

Because I’m straight, you assume?

Or, because I’m white you assume?

Because I’m black, you assume?

Because I’m red, yellow, brown, you assume?

I’m everyday people.

Not good unless I’m good.

Not bad unless I’m bad.

Everyday people are like that.

If you assume,

You may be the problem.

Can you accept me?

Me, for me?"

[wordsbyt]

Interpretations……

[wordsbyt]

I think love,

should kick me in the heart. Should smack me in my teeth.

Should squeeze the tears and drink them,

before they hit the ground.

I think love,

should grab me by the guts. Should tear the smile right from me.

Should punch me in my face and laugh,

before I turn around.

I think love,

should hurt the pleasant places.

Should pull the strings and break them.

Should look at me and wonder,

before I come unwound.

I think love,

should sing a song that haunts me.

Should say the same verse over.

Should repeat the lines that hurt me,

before I make a sound.

I think love,

should take a knife and cut me.

Should crack my ribs and crush me.

Should leave me to die slowly,

before I’m stitched and bound.

I think love,

should pick me up and hug me.

Should press the air right out me.

Should collapse the lungs that breathe me,

before I choke and cough and drown.

[wordsbyt]

She said, “I’ll be yours for a song.”

And I said, “but, I can’t sing.”

She replied, “then speak the words to me....”

So I did.

I said “The day has come for you to know. That I love you’s can come and go. But a love like mine will last forever. From yesterday until the twelfth of never. For I have wanted this because I loved you. And my words have been silent, but always true. For to say nothing would be terribly wrong. I’ll be yours for a song, I’ll be yours for a song.”

She smiled and said,

“A song in the heart can be heard without singing. A melody of words like a bell ringing. To hear you speak the words you dared, makes me know you are the one who cared. To never hear them would have been terribly wrong. I’m yours for a song. I’m yours for a song.”

[wordsbyt]

I was looking for you. I was lost, and couldn't find my way. You seemed so close, but I couldn't see you. Maybe you didn't want to be found. By me. The more I looked the clearer that became. I could look for you, or even right at you, and never find you. That's when I found me. I found a way to look past the past. To see the unseen. To find me. And now, I'm not looking for you. I've found myself, and I like what I see.

[wordsbyt]

Do angels get tired?

Do they need to rest?

Are they sent here to work?

And who, or what, are these angels?

These questions roll around in my mind all the time.

Maybe dogs. Maybe they are our angels.

Imagine, when your day comes, if you were greeted by every dog you ever had. Just imagine.

Who else loves you unconditionally? Who else waits for you to come home and celebrates every time? Who warns you of danger? Who else would protect you against anything? Anything.

And all they want is to be loved.

Loved back.

That’s why they are your angels. They take you to a peaceful place. Is there anything better than when your dog crawls up next to you, lays their head on your shoulder, or in your lap, then looks up at you? Love. That is love. And they do it for nothing. No payback. Just a scratch on the back, a pat on the head, an occasional biscuit. That’s an angel.

I am convinced that angels don’t always have wings. Sometimes they have long ears, and smelly breath, and drool too much. Sometimes they drink too loud, lick too much, beg a little too often.

You won’t find their wings, or see their halos, because they don’t show here. That does not diminish them. Even if they do get tired.

Because they always love. Angels always do.

[wordsbyt]

Because his words were like pictures. They could form images in her brain. His words could touch her in ways she needed. Because, she needed. His words carressed her, not her body, but her mind. That’s exactly what she wanted. The Poet loved the Beauty with his words. The Beauty loved the Poet for his words.

That was enough.

[wordsbyt]

One day, a child looked up at the moon, and seemed sad.

The child asked “why does the moon go away?”

The childs friend told them “the sun loves the moon so much, he hides on the other side of the earth at night, so she can shine.”

And the child asked, “if he loves her, why does he hide?”

The friend simply said, “her shine is hers, and he wants her to be seen like she deserves.”

At that point the child understood love. That sometimes, anothers light needs to be seen, no matter how bright yours can be. That is love. When you want more for others than yourself.

[wordsbyt]

“The Winners Kiss”

[wordsbyt]

You will never see the end of the road when you are riding with me.

Each turn or stop is an adventure.

A new chance.

Every person has a story, and every story has it’s person.

I choose to become part of that story.

To live the day.

[wordsbyt]

It brought back memories.

I am old now. Using a conditioner on my now white beard, brought back memories. For it smelled like coconuts, and it triggered memories of spring break.

And Tropicana. Oiled up and tan.

Cheap beers, fake ID’s.

On our own for the first time.

Drunken nights, bumming hotel rooms from the girls we knew. The hopes of scoring, but the reality of only snoring. Alone.

Cutoff jeans, and blonde teens.

Too little money, and way too many things to spend it on.

Mary, and Laraine. Ellen, and all the others that filled my eyes and my mind.

Staying up all night just to see the day start again with a sunrise.

Young love.

I remember everything.

I remember that smell the most…..

[wordsbyt]

“If I told you about me, 
if I told you my secrets, 
could you still love me? 
If I said the things no one knows, 
the hidden parts where nobody goes, 
could you still love me? 
If I showed you the deepest hole in my soul, 
the rusty nails that hold up my heart, 
the cracks in my spirit that leak self doubt, 
could you still love me? 
If I lost the hope that kept me going when nothing else would, could you still love me? 
If I asked you all this, 
could you? 
Could you still love me?”