Because I can, that’s why.
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It’s probably pretty much the same.
With the me of Then and There
thinking on the me of Now and Here .
Wondering if the pain is a gift from me of Then,
I’m wondering again.
Does savage sadness need enduring for the sake of me for Now?
If so, then how?
Then…😏…a sibling creation-although the subject matters are different. This one (pic) is an incomplete polymer project that ‘popped by’ hours before the poem.
Both creations very welcome company on a sleepless night.😊
How tall, dark and handsome this album is.
“Moods: You, the Night and the Music”-various artists style.
No kiddies or noise toys. No monotonous thunks or lame and base innuendo.
Sophisticated jazz. Energetic. Smart. Lots of sly winks. And I mean plenty of sexy smirks teasing you to ease up and do “your thing”.
I could go on forever about this one, but mealtime’s better spent actually tasting the food.
Note: Regarding the song “Bloodstream”. If you have recently broken things off with a romantic partner, go lighten the heck up and then come back to give it a spin. It’s a gorgeous number which deserves you smiling, dancing next to a shaft of sunlight. It would seem a shame to spend it on memories of you both shopping for engagement rings in Sam’s Club. Or fantasies of you rushing back to one another for some slow motion kissing. Yeah..naw, enjoy this one fully.
artwork and poem by Ramsy
Every time I would lift my head, over the years..decades, and see this man perform-it was like hitting the light switch.
From top to bottom, then to now..what a gorgeously brilliant man this one turned out to be. In more ways than one.
When you catch a long passed favorite song playing, it’s like reuniting with a dear, old friend.
You’re all smiles and admiration over how it hasn’t changed one bit. Memories flood back, strung between first and last notes, of who you once were. Just as you remember each lyric and quarter beat, a song remembers each of your fears and wishes from the time you first met.
Here’s one of my old friends-weary after traveling from the eight track player in my father’s car , umpty years ago, to here.. with you.