Easier to swallow:

Since I have so many words, generally, let me distill it for you:

God good
God good
God good
God good
God good
God good
God good
God good

God good
God good
God good
God good
God good.

See what I am saying? That's all I ever say.

You Can't Keep My Love for Free

I can't keep your love for free,
I can't keep your love for free...

You're a pretty thing,
The prettiest thing I ever seen!
Your flowers bloom,
and your sunshine beams!
But there are two sides, two sides
to everything in the beginning
Tell me, do you think love is free?

I can't keep your love for free,
I can't keep your love for free...

I give you what I've got to give:
All my love, the chance to live.
But don't go out hustling me,
those are my heart-strings, baby
I'm a good old-fashioned man
mad-crazy for you: Woman.
I think we all want what we already got.

Seems like our love just ain't free,
Turns out there is always this penalty behind everything
And I think it's the way, the way it really be!
I'm ok! I'm ok! Just let me die peacefully!

Something lasts forever
inside you & inside me
I do want to show you, if you do want to see
and it's Free! Free! Free!
Believe me, baby, believe me!
I see all these mortal deficiencies!
Thaaaat's why!

I can't keep your love for free,
I can't keep your love for free.

True Love Is?

Somebody assumed I have a broken heart, in light of everything.

But check this out: My actual experience is that I know -- because it is the truth -- that I truly surrendered to love. There is nothing to regret about that! It is a choice that is endless, and this new chain-of-events is but more odd capitulation to that divine schematic. I deeply feel that to be true.

I did not begin our relationship with that clarity. I did not know what I wanted. I did not know what love was. But I learned over time, because I was willing, because love is the only way, and because Leticia was the girl.

So it took me over 7 years of seeing the impact of my ignorant, mortal ways on her continence to cause me to realize, on a much deeper level, the heart of Woman. Once I began to see that, once I begin to realize that I am nothing without that love, the surrender of my mad-passion became much easier.

None-the-less, as I was becoming aware of the awesome potential of Relationship, I was actually neglecting the real person representing that concept. I see this as my mistake, and I can't really beat myself up about it because, obviously, I needed to learn what I learned.

So I am not broken-hearted. Rather, I feel healed. I feel more alive and equiped to love again than ever before. And I do entertain myself with the possibility that she feels the same way. Rather than make me sad, it makes me happy to think of that little girl -- who I love -- feeling the love of a man prepared to love her without his past. It will make her happy, and she is wonderful beyond all words when she is happy!

On my side, I more actively hope for such an occaision to arise! I imagine that I too have learned something about the ebb and flow of relationship. I too have forsaken many childhood expectations of love and marriage. And so, I do feel prepared (and eager) to find someone with whom to try again.

I do not anticipate the process of finding such a person. This seems to be the most painful part, and I think I understand how divorce can easily lead into new disasterous relationships: It is very sad -- marriage rigously prepares the heart, mind, and body for a lifetime together. . .to not have that, suddenly, is to make my all of my struggle in vain. So, if I find a woman that I perceive to be honest with me, is willing to try, and I find attractive, I will move much, much faster this time. Why not?

I do not fear making the same mistakes again, because I was given plenty of time in a very loving environment to understand the errors of my last relationship. And whereas I could have been gluttonous with that opportunity (ok, so I was too), Leticia was a good mama and made sure I did not forget my lesson.

So what have I got to lose? I believe God is great, and I do believe life is an opportunity to experience the bounty of His blessing. So I go forward peacefully.

Life Debt.

I embark from my first marriage with an optimistic outlook.

I was facing, about myself, for several years that I am my wife's suffering. I'm not sure how it got that way, or how I lost my sense of humor about it, or how maybe I just needed to be taught that it is still okay! I don't know, but that was the situation.

None-the-less, my "failed" marriage has only shown me the depth of her Love! I am more faithful, more eager to go forward with an open heart than ever before. In fact, every lesson she had for me -- no matter how painful for my ego -- was a beautiful display of her absolute sacrifice to spend her days with me, not someone meant for her, but someone willing to receive her education.

Her confessions of relief and happiness at her own new-found freedom is my evidence to suggest all is right and all is good. My love, too, of her is sincere, and so it was with a heavy, heavy burden that I had to accept she was suffering on my account. To be honest, it was hell to see such a beautiful creature so maimed by my demon.

Ah, but now she is free, and she sings and flies away like a bird. Does the freedom of the Bluejay make Buddha sad? Nay, he smiles and loves her song all the while she sings.

A REAL HUMAN BEING!

And guess what?! This real human actually SAW ME with his/her eyes and mind open, and asked AN INTELLIGENT QUESTION!!!!! MY GOD!! How I have missed you!!

(I am dancing! I am spinning around! I am drunk and happy!)

For context, they said in response to my poem I wrote about turning 30:

OK, so yes this was one of your best pieces, but does that mean you are going to stop here?

Why the need for public personal expression? I am researching this whole blogg thing in comparison to published autobiographies, so I am curious about your choice of media and how it affects what you present.

Ahhhh, God how I love this person for stroking my ego while checking me at the same time!

Enough. Let's get down to business and try to address this comment:

First. It is true, I haven't posted much lately. Without getting into the ramifications of divorce, I'll just say, yo, I've been busy. a'ight? But I assure you, this obsession I have with crafting communication out of language based on this random series of fleshy mental impulses, I doubt will be stopping any time soon.

But then again, this person is researching autobiographies, which assumes a context somewhat larger than a week or two of a person's life. And so I must respond on even a grander level:

The post that is refered to is actually the first "song" I have tried to write. I wrote it to match the melody of "The Entertainer" by Billy Joel -- I admit -- so I could go to my local karioke bar and impress the ladies with my totally original, rap-master lyrics. My motives for creativity are so shallow, I suppose.

But luckily, and thank God, I do not intend to stop here. I have come a long journery of self-expression, from the bosom of Mother Montana to the cold concrete of Father Angeles. My poem is a shout of enthusiasm, for I truly feel that I am ONLY 30! my failures are behind me. I feel that life holds so much promise yet...I am but honored to go forward with all the humility I can muster.

Ahhh, but my Intelligent Human delved even deeper and asked, WHY? Why the need for a blogged personal expression in comparison to a published auto-biography?

My answer: I could not wait for the opportunity to write my life into a format worthy of literature, though I am sure it is. I had to get on with it.

I do believe, however, that this choice of internet media is markedly different than the aforementioned medium. Because there are no criteria for sorting quality, pretty much anybody's masturbation could end up in your face. Sorry 'bout that, but it's true.

The result is that the bar is raised. Though it is a strike even against my own words, I can generally classify the 'genre' of a blog within the first several sentences. It is very rare that I find a Blog which presents itself uniquely.

And, this medium, as a result of itself, demands: What actually constitutes worthy material? Is it enough just to have a savvy writing style, or a sharp wit? To have a voice, do I actually need to be doing something amazing in my 'real' life? Are all of those diary-writers out there excused from criticism?

Furthermore, as the internet is vastly dynamic and changing on a second-to-second basis, almost as a form of intelligence, this judgement of worthy material is actually rendered much, much more acutely than would/could even the most critical publisher/editor in the business. It is a judgement waged by millions of detached readers, who have no need other than their own gratification to keep reading!

Because Blogging has become a world-wide phenomenon, unfortunately, even the auto-biography writers out there are affected by the increased sensitivity of the audience. Though Fred's book may be amazing, if he has not tested his mettle in the arena of the Blog, well, contemporarily speaking, he may be waxing loquacious about yesterday's news. He may be doggedly contained by his own limits.

Now, naturally, a writer can choose to be conscious of this. They can pose the question to their Soul and begin the journey of Self Knowledge. Or, ha, they can keep writing their ka-jizz, arguing (as many have with whom I have discussed this topic), "Ohhh, they may not be saying anything, but they are reading!" As if there really are millions of voyeurs out there who have no better thoughts of their own and feel compelled to fill their heads with the ramblings of others'. Puh-lease. Get over yourselves, people, is what I say. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think life does not fail to be, if nothing else, BUSY and FULL of thoughts for pretty much all of us. I barely have time to take a dump, let alone catch a regular show on the boob-tube, or surf for an hour in hopes of reading something inspirational.

None-the-less, the truth is, there ARE true Thinkers, Philosophers, and Creatives out here among us who have been living a certain way for many, many years. Lifetimes, eons, in fact. These people truly are in touch with the Eternal, and they really do have a message that is infinitely positive.

To return to the question: I say, if I felt I had any avenues available to me to make such an energy known through the venues of the published auto-biography, I would utilitize it. However. I do not, and it does not hinder me. My message is not affected, my message is the same. For the time being, as blogging is my only means, I simply must jump in the pool with all of the other Jacking-off Jills and show, as poetically as I fancy, that I am just simply a Man.

And, ultimately, I can chant along side the rest, "Ohhh, I just know you are reading me!"

What is Guitar for me?

Guitar is silence.

Guitar is when I face what I cannot be. And, when I accept what I am not, I hear your blessed music!

And yes, Guitar to play you is to face my insecurities, to be pummeled by them, to be ridiculed, scorned, shunned, haunted, and diseased by doubt and self-worthlessness -- all that is me. Guitar, to play you spontaneously is to dance with you, and because you are so great, Guitar, you reveal how I fail, in every way, to be loved by all, as you are, as God is as a rock star.

Guitar is infinite possibility. Guitar cannot be mastered, except by its own accord. Guitar is a new lesson for every hurdle hurdled. Guitar is eager to try again and again. And Guitar begs for silence.

Guitar begs to hear the breeze sigh and birds sing instead.

Guitar is my gateway to this peace! Guitar is the pentameter against which life's chaos must attune itself accordingly. And...Mama, the more peacefully I play, the more extraordinary you have made my life! Guitar, I cannot comprehend!

Guitar, I recognize, is as the Love Divine, my mortal love defined!

Therefore! As of now!

I further allow myself to experience the Love Divine in the arms of a woman, though it is hard for me to imagine a lover who would allow me to be as close, as tender, and as consistent and kind and all-knowing as you have been to me.

But I imagine this woman!

A woman willing to be held and play with me as often as I can find a spare moment..? A woman who sounds better and better the more I practice holding her..? A woman gratified to be my woman, though she may not know herself to be any different than a Ms. Megan Paul or a Ms. Sarah Gibson, or may not, in fact, even be a name-brand model, or have the newest strings, or wear a finish without knicks, dings, and scratches..? A woman dischordant only when I have failed to attend her tuning. A woman whose voice, as inspired by me to sing, enchants me and entrances me every time...! Ahh!

Guitar...this is the type of Love we have created...thank you, thank you, thank you, Ooommmmmm!

Love! As wide as the sea, as endless as the night, as bright as the sun! Ommmmm!

Well, hell. I'm 30.

1976 to 20
hundred years, plus the six -->
I'm 30 years old, and I'm about to roll
Down the road to something new.
I tell you, man, the troubles had me
but just as I understood,
that it was my choice and so I found my voice
to let you all know that I'm right here,
just kicking it up in heaven.

It's those summertime blues that getcha,
You know we gots ta stop!
We can't keep going on like this,
cuz, you know I'm gonna break your heart
Ah, but still you want my loving,
And still you give me a chance
It's too much to own, so I gotta let you know,
if you feel the same, we oughta quit this game,
but then again...we both like to dance.

We'll get the summertime blues, baby,
In my way, you never give me half a chance
To even tell you how happy I am
just to be another man.
Or that it is scenic picture
Or all the other words I want to say:
It's like, my arm gets tired of just beating it off,
so, I got to relax and face the facts:
I think you want me just as much.

So you know a little background about me:
I do want to be healthy
I wanna be super-everlasting
and I never want to be cheesy
I'm trying to get some air &
I'm trying to eat some greens.
I try to live like ya teach me
but it ain't easy when you know I only came
for those naughty in-betweens

After all, what else do we got?
But for you, Lord, ain't nothing worth its salt...
inside, outside, through it, up & down
I feel you all in my heart
Ah, but one rises above the rest
to say she is a woman!
And I see a woman, and Lord, I see a woman
more than one makes women and I swear to you
that's where the problems start.

Hey, it's just an elaborate illusion --
It's the summertime blues, baby,
You know that's all I got,
but it ain't where I want to stop.
I give you it all,
except my pockets are flat!
It's been that way since yesterday
If I saw you now, I'd still have nothing to say. . .you know
I love you in my own way.

The summer time blues baby
A tune that you can sing
Whether I am with you
or whether you are free.
It really makes no difference
Except it can make you cry
But I'll show you love and what's up above
If the time is tonight, then let's make it right,
I say, the summer time blues are fine.