one last thing.

i found this in my stack of little typer poems. thought i'd share it too...

(you didn' know it was open mic night, did you?)

(also written around the spring of 2002... and remember, i'm trying to present these as they were typed - no stopping to correct the errors or really bad typos)
--

more or less, less or more, the night skyline of indy stretches up outside my window. there and not there, to be seen, but not lived for the living of it can quickly destory the dream, a little further away, pushing yourself further than you really ever wanted to go as a child... when is it enough... when are we happy... when will we start to live again, and breathe in like we have never breathed in before.

a voice can cut through your soul and repair things that a surgeons scalple (?) could never touch. beyond the reality of it, and into the true, whole living beauty of it.

it.

the common bond that unites us and brings us closer together than any wars can take us apart.

the common bond you feel when you meet someone for the first time, but you feel that you have known them for years.

it is the stuff of life that I seek... the sunsets, the sunrise, the gentle breeze in the spring, and the soft caress of the fall, gathering around you to hold you close before winter settles you indoors and lets you rest to start over all over again... another first blade of grass, the first smell of real green (not the paper kind) carried to your face, maybe over the trace of snow left hanging on as the sun drives it back into the air.


-------------------
-------------------


sappy as it is, hug a loved one, even when you feel like the whole world is out against you. tell your mom and dad, brother and sister, wife/husband and children that you love them. because you do.

pray too. but i'm not the boss of you. sleep tight, or have a good day wherever you are, but i am off to the inner workings of my mind, and the now empty bedroom that calls out to me to retire.

.jason