NAPKIN WORDS #65 2011 - Dedicated to Mike Prevor

1. HERE IS THE COST
As a writer in a public place, I may appear to
some as a bit off the edge.

A fair price to pay when one wishes to cause
others to think beyond the edge!

2. POTENTIALLY SLEEPING
Possibilities always lie in a bed of dreams, that
wisdom of tomorrow.

Rest easy and have them tonight!

All the same, sadness is a creature of our
humanity, and like all of humanity, it too
must answer the call of nature.

So be prepared, the moment sadness arises
and departs, the seat becomes yours. Do
whatever you can so that you are always
happy.

As long as that state exists, sadness is
prohibited from ever sitting down!

3. ALLOWANCE ART
Let time wish.

Let life live!

4. MATHMATICS FOR LIARS
Half-truths, whole lies!

5. BEETHOVEN AS A TEACHER
He taught us that it is not our ears alone that
hear.

For when he went deaf and could no longer hear,
he heard within and that allowed his soul to create
the magnificent music we admire today!

6. THIS TIME OF OURS
One cannot change time, but one can make it.

This is a truth, only if the one who is making it
is kind to time and tries to improve it, instead of
the norm, those who simply try to keep it moving!

7. THE ART OF MAKING
Let us make something of others.

Let time and others make something of
ourselves.

This allows time to do what it will because
of our kindness towards others, and times
kindness towards us!

8. HOW IT HAPPENS
Wisdom lives beyond its learning, and the
reason is, that it still is growing up!

VACATION EXIT

Watching a loud yellow moon prance through eyes
of a misshapen pine, I watched ideals form, then
flutter away towards congested, shut-in night, guided
by flashes tossed in this universe of dusty stars.

I followed shadows weighing heavy, wing-like cherub
owls watching thoughts move silently upon stream
sounds, north to south, cursing each echo's gruff
direction, yet following in darting movements, afraid
to look back.

A bright red cardinal flirted loudly amid many gusts
of movement and the harsh, steady, uniform rapping
wisdom of a woodpecker's mission; then fled from an
oak tree suddenly broken, its generous acorns strewn Dali-like, across paths born and aging.

It is ever the scurry of life amid growth, in refuge of
seasons passing, commending achievements, holding in hugs, yet whispering so sweetly into ears of time a siren
call, telling how time-doors to plant life shut swiftly,
remaining tightly closed until eyes of a tree blink once
again.



by Edward Hunter






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