| Swiss Poem Account Collection |
| Poem Account Poets judih wylde Paul Kren Barry Fitton Craig Moore panta rhei Orphicgoblin Joshua Griffin Jota |
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| Judih Poetry II Crash clown boom Confessions of a Cloud parter It's not Gentle with me Now |
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| Confessions of a Cloud Parter as clouds part slit by suns wild rays i am the force i flood your path with light lovingly you'll never miss me cause i'm always here - love grows with or without your consent rustling junipers crackling winter fires fragrant evidence of thickening thoughts specifically - i don't wrestle your body parts these days i moan in humble love channelings wealth showers - wet skies i rain on you |
| gentle with me now harp is what i need smooth transitions gentle with me now i've had some brimstone hendrix, and marley i've felt some horror spirit of burn baby burn but not now this moment is for silk strums warm licks love worn blankets chords of comfort join me in the sweet we'll tumble roll easy style acoustic love |
| it's not present company reeks of pretense its not that your studded mind is not aimed on target you will get there straight and narrow its not that your rapid glanced REM jump fire cracks wont find their mark they will and youll come up trophied and golden its not that i dont admire the way you slide over obstacles artforms and restaurants applauding your easy generousity its not that i dont want you warm and naked posing on my mantle bed or pedestal your shine in hard marble glory erect and delectable mister universal male its not that i miss you think of you lick you under glass its not a big deal that i stroke you tease you play your tunes its not my rainy day plans to latch our key together baby its not my road the self glowed shine of you its not youre not lets not. |
| Crash Clown Boom under the sink from somewhere behind pipes clown shoes tiptoe among secrets opening coffee grounds digging burial sites for pepper pods bouncing among seeds of apples and peppermint clown boom gives us away a way to penetrate hidden channels canals to Venice under my sink i think i'm gonna hide you're more than well come on there's room for merriment of a non-aerosol intent |