The thing I have to ask myself is:

What is is it a question of?

Is it Money? Someone Else?

The Man?

You?

What is in the way?

I must always remember the possibilities that abound

connect & reflect ‘til the moments become rhythms

& then pound into sound

If we are all the same thing, how can there be anything in your way?

Any obstacle therefore must be perceptual

Time to see through them to the joy beyond

Process your hurts, no doubt

but exercise your writes and get them out

Let go of working with thoughts that don’t serve

have love for creating art

doing the bricklaying on the ground

I’ll make a skyscraper without regard

I do the work

the plans become apparent

I become a parent to my dream

and foster growth

I can turn the scene into ribbons of of electrical impulse

& actually get movement from my life

back to chant to remove the blinders from my face

self-imposed

Things go the way I want them to go

So now they go forward in the moment

Time is time to show it

a page to drop rage & shine like I glow it

put away the ‘moet’

my interest is in the poet

Everything Is In The Way