Just in, there is nothing more.
Laid out for all to see,
No, only for my eye.
A wretched thought,
at a phenomenal fee.

These symbols,
Though recognized,
can’t be familiarized,
I didn’t plan them to be.
So, with heavy sigh,
Here my new poem for you.

I extend my mind,
Lift my ethereal arm,
capture an idea,
moment from a farm,
Me as child,
what would you see?

A horse,
With a blue eye,
Kicks a post,
Interrupts a dinner,
Scares of the mother fly.
It’s all laid out,
No, only for my eye.

Must mean a broken family.

No, just a fly’s life.

No, you must mean more,
Surely you mean more.

Not, really.

Leather snaps,
Young boys twitches,
Runs for his grandma,
It’s all laid out,
No, only for my eye.


No, no, caring.
I was the boy,
who needed that spanking.

Fear or feed,
It’s all laid out,
No, only my eye.
When I use “Liberty”,
You assume free.
I mean Goulash.
No, I mean free,
Huh, so many possibilities.
No, in fact, I know what I mean,
actually, I mean memory,
Of a red bush,
or no, green hills I see.

It’s all laid out,
No, not even to me.