Old Poem: My life is a mosiac

My life is a mosaic.

Spray painted on barns

scratched into chairs

and etched into Aspen tree’s

It is painted in the back drop of Midwest cities

and contrasted by Rocky Mountains

like polished ivory on a crisp December day


It’s viewable only from space.


On earth I’m only a fuzzy outline of a man

Blurred like sasquatch

Walking through an urban jungle

Singing a country tune

Moon walking through bustling streets

Motionless from the waste up.


I am focused only in context and contrast

Shifting like sand

Forming ying yangs on the ground.

Feng shui in my soul



I am montage of my own dreams.

Let me know what you think

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