Atlantic City, NJ, Feb. 22, 1972
Little candles
calling me from the distance.
I am not sure,
but something stops me.
Maybe is the human rain,
that has got me so wet.
Atlantic City, NJ, Feb. 22, 1972
Little candles
calling me from the distance.
I am not sure,
but something stops me.
Maybe is the human rain,
that has got me so wet.
Atlantic City, NJ, Feb. 22, 1972
The reason to cry;
the reason to laugh.
Life and death marching on.
A big smile, in the heart of those
who see the cycle and enjoy it.
Philadelphia, Penna., Feb. 20, 1972
Walking on the ocean,
I saw the sky.
Atlantic City, NJ, Feb. 18, 1972
A tree was looking at me,
and his smile was nicely ironic.
The flowers were dancing around,
and the noisy silence
was kissing my forehead.
Atlantic City, NJ, Feb. 18, 1972
The noise was familiar,
and the feeling, too.
They were coming down the roof,
and crushing themselves
on the red dirt.
Atlantic City, NJ, Jan., 1972
Did you ever wake up at noon,
with that sour feeling of nothingness?
Atlantic City, NJ, Jan., 1972
Sometimes I go blank
and nothing seems to be alive;
not even a walk on the beach
calls me.
Atlantic City, NJ, Jan., 1972
Today we have to laugh,
the calendar said.
Tomorrow we’ll be sad,
he continued.
Atlantic City, NJ, Jan., 1972
The morning was waiting;
the night was almost gone.
There was no darkness; no light.
It didn’t feel warm,
neither the cold was felt.
Atlantic City, NJ, Jan., 1972
Some try to stop it.
Some push it
as hard as they can.
I saw some avoiding it,
but they were all doing the same.