Friday, January 18, 2013

Poetry Of Life. Its Fruit.

Ok, now that I've smoked my marijuanna and drank my red wine....



She's got eyes of the cruelest skys, and if I stayed to long, I'd probly break down and cyr. If I stayed too long I'd die. So! Everything requires a balance. No two one bip damn ip about it. Hahahaaa....just hold on tight. Not too loosely.


How's about a name for this, uhm, inspiration? Guns N Roses. Sweet child of mine...anything else?

Does that sound like the good basic for a play? Maybe I could write for stage? Like New York New York with ole Blue-Eyes on it.



Or maybe write poems, and just whistly whisp along on life...to its fullest.....



I dunno about ThAt one.



But let's not forget music. Er, how could we? Hahaa. No such luck, no such number, no such place. So here's the tune I was talking about.

Guns n' Roses - Sweet Child O' Mine



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