the last fall of midas;
for he gathered all the gold
there ever was-
within reach
so gather round
the deathly bed now
gather round, these vast mounds of gold
instead of pounds of kin to comfort
instead of those-
a mountains trove bridled with cold
but! the tall measure of such wealth
beyond all compare
beyond all ever told;
so yet alone-
and none will come to pick the bones
but mine the ore first and last
and there a legend will then pass
into mere hearsay lore
a real person for gone
who valued more
of gold-
than the warmth
of a loving hand
in hand
or the simple gesture of a hug
a gathering round
of family-
a treasure, worth so much more, tragedy.

sometimes I wonder if anyone gives a rat’s ass about the music I post… but to me, music is life as is art, it is my thing, I am passionate about both so… I think I will always pair the two, but one always questions one’s decisions at some point, my point has to try and get away from all that and just post my art as pure as I can, I very rarely re-write or even make second efforts, that is what works for me (or not), but I just have to lay it out there as is, the comfort has to come from within that with the billions of people born and dead, there is just you and me out there right now, and if one person gets me, or somehow I touch that person’s life… well, that is enough, if I reach 1000 that is fine too but in 1000 years will that matter ? probably not, I am not exactly building monolithic monuments of stone here, just thoughts from this monolith in new jersey…