Lady’s out running 20 miles in her marathon training. Couple years ago we wrote on a “What We Want To Do Before We Die” wall and she said “Run a marathon.” So she’s going to do it. She’s run two half marathons, and did 18 miles in training two weeks ago. So today’s 20 only leaves 6.2 miles to go. When she runs her first private training marathon, I’m coming along on my bicycle and camera.

Shelf Portrait

This me old me fails,
new me not ready to sail
after mythic whale.

Though wet, small and cold
still manage to hold my own,
not quite clown nor clone.

Only question here
how does one outpace one’s fear
heading for the clear?

Bigger me inside
so need to make prison break,
head for higher mind.

Buddha buddy sez:
we all own our own footstep,
print is up to us.

– Smith, 6.28.2014

Love the cyber highway. Wrote the poem predawn yesterday, posted it, turned it into lyrics after breakfast, recorded it after lunch, read the poem at last night’s Shoreway Poets reading, and posted the song after sundown . . . daaaytripper, we’ve got a ticket to ride.

Click here to hear Welcome On In, 2:13,Peter Ball music, mix, and recording with me word and voice.

Welcome On In (the song)

We’re shipping empty boxes
one for every gland
and you can lend a hand
o damn this grand ellipsis
of foxes guarding pen
we have so little order
losing lesser larder
so we spin ‘n grin it
the suitboys putting non cents in
we really have to slip this is.

A food for every hunger.
A heart for every need.
A hug for every sadness.
This is plead to seed.

We really have to slip the
suitboys putting non cents in
instead we spin ‘n grin it
losing lesser larder
in our lack of order
the foxes guard the chicken pen
there is no grand ellipsis
we need to lend a hand
one for every gland
or else we’re shipping empty boxes again.

A hug for every sadness
A heart for every plead.
A food for every hunger.
This is need to seed.

– Smith, 6.13.2014

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