He is the sheperds dog that nips our heels
wayward we wander...oh how we love
our freedom..to go too close too the
woods or sea...nibble the poison of
ideals......every platoon gruppe has
the foreman....As was my father..
who guided through the ferocity of
getting our attention to the main focus!!

I grew from ass kickers just like he
I speak of grooming and cars..but
before the put me behind the wheel
it was made very clear with much
butt kicking...squad captian drills
what I needed to focus on!!
Was not all the lubracious writing
I do......I never touched on how
i came to be...the abusive grandfather
uncles from world war two..happily
hustling and deeply disturbed..
Oh I countered them!!! what then?
I become like them..
and then learned to turn that
polarity switch..U can do it Stevie
said my believers..and I did...
we are not all born of purity
and light...
the world is not beautiful black
and white monochromes
but this slurry of lucid grey..
factions and policies
flaccid and turgid intelligence
ha
There is so much more beyond
the gates of knowledges door!

but......we are poets..
we see...feel..blueprints
not even in our hands
sing songs given in dreams
brushed by elbows...
visions Im writing about here..
a direction

and the beauty of it..
is all about
as we haul our kit
and make our way
on chariots of creative
muse and construct!!

poets fall all about
but we have a voice
an important one

what is the value
timbre..wavelength!
who hones us?

a great poetic ponderance
Lovedly!!
why I remain steadfast true
to Neopoet!
our little troupe..our gruppe
our platoon....
for we know
that writing is the way
regardless of the crown
of gods or mortals...
(I wait for lightening at
this)
we are just actors
creating beauty of
feeling and experience!
surviving
sharing!

Thank U!

Mr Wolf!