A transitional thought: Love. Gratitude. Joy. Passion. Excitement. Enthusiasm. Hope. Satisfaction.
8 Words to cling to. And hold on tight. I love the Anatomy of the Wall-Of-Frames. I love the days of being a pioneer. I love the projects on my home computer. I love to do what I’m going to do, gotta do–regardless of the outcome. That philosophy’s been with me from the get-go, and I love the get-go!
I feel the gratitude from putting the messages out there, for being able to express myself, regardless of the medium. I am grateful for tonight. an evening of no TV and no PC. I feel gratitude for being able to hear the wind chimes in the distance, in spite of the “noise” from the animals in the barnyard. With all their clucking, braying and a lot of hee-hawing going on and on. I am so happy and grateful because I can hear the wind chimes in the distance while they’re way over the hill beyond the horizon. I love when I can hear them from the bar stalls filled with quite a few animals crowded in.
I feel the joy of this constant dream that isn’t real, that’s all an illusion. If I love to hear the joy of the wind chimes, I must be listening for them. I could feel the joy of talking to these animals. I could be happy and always with perfect attendance. There is joy for me knowing I’m not proclaiming to be a philosopher. And there is joy when I don’t intend to be confused for a B-S-opher. Have you experienced the joy of hunger with it changes everything you ever thought you knew about yourself? I love and feel the joy of expecting a miracle, like having more hopes than I know what to do with.
I have the passion for developmental experiments in my writing! I have the passion for criticism as much as validation and a place for me somewhere where I can write and speak as much as I can think, and make it pay for my living and some aside. I have the love for a lazy bum who sits on his azz all day with his TV blaring at 4 a. m. My only hope is that he feels the passion to nourish his body, to make his monthly rent payments, and to buy clothing, boots, and shoes for himself and for his grandchildren who don’t even exist.
I could feel the excitement of being in a hell of a place for the Poet. A place for me to get my head knocked when I need it, and when I could feel the excitement of making friends again–I’ve forgotten how. And I believe that the most excitement I could have is making enemies. There is room for exciting miracles today! I love the excitement of receiving miracles today! And there is excitement in seeing what’s right with folks, rather than what’s wrong.
There is the excitement of raw Americanism that also appeals to an audience across the pond. Exciting poetry is propaganda. I could get plenty of excitement writing and publishing my own books. I feel enthused about exchanging ideas and points-of-view with someone who’s skeptical. I feel enthusiasm about having more laughs and tears in me than in any other clay pot I know of.