I was a college music teacher, engaged in pitch, tempo, rhythm and melody,
As lavish planets dance around a golden star, with the zeal of fuchsia fidelity.
I taught harmony, vocals and singing, and how to play musical instruments,
Like the harmony of redbird's distant calls, entering into sunglow moments.
Teaching was thrilling and rewarding, a great way to share the love of music,
As roving stars ever return to grape, dusk skies, being apparently homesick.
Loving mysterious music as I did, it followed naturally that I loved to dance;
......
I was a stylish, assertive travel agent, arranging getaways for busy people;
Like sudden getaways of jewel, shooting stars, on ebony nights of upheaval.
I planned calm, exotic, trip itineraries, for all tired of city hustle and bustle;
Like a dark red flower, blooming isolated, in peach sunshine of little trouble.
I also arranged for transportation and lodging, for exhausted, glad travelers;
As beauty birds fly north and south singing, ever ecstatic, joy ambassadors.
I began dreaming of a getaway myself, one of complete rest and relaxation.
......
I know where's Nature's manifestation
Lark in the deep Nature is fit,
Silence or brawl in bossom may be on
And prettier than lamp be lit.
First the morning sun doth take better role
Comeing silently on meadow
Like a guardian to protest the foul
Which lived night thro', high or low.
......
All the hot summer days I am found, sleeping late in my bed,
Dreaming of dusk and getting beauty rest, before sunset red;
For I'm an opal night owl, my scent blooms open all night long.
I am called Mirabilis jalapa, or four o'clocks, adoring birdsong.
I am yellow and deep pink stripes, beloved by hummingbirds,
And grape sun butterflies, when time seems to go backwards.
I keep a daily appointment with destiny, at about four o'clock,
As I love pearly moon more than sun, when dancing in my frock!
And when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
andI mount the scabbed streets,
the long shouts of avenues,
and tunnel sunken night in search of you...
That I negotiate fog, bituminous
rain rining like teeth into the beggar's tin,
or two men jackaling a third in some alley
weirdly lit by a couch on fire, that I
......
I was a stylish, assertive travel agent, arranging getaways for busy people;
Like sudden getaways of jewel, shooting stars, on ebony nights of upheaval.
I planned calm, exotic, trip itineraries, for all tired of city hustle and bustle;
Like a dark red flower, blooming isolated, in peach sunshine of little trouble.
I also arranged for transportation and lodging, for exhausted, glad travelers;
As beauty birds fly north and south singing, ever ecstatic, joy ambassadors.
I began dreaming of a getaway myself, one of complete rest and relaxation.
......
All the hot summer days I am found, sleeping late in my bed,
Dreaming of dusk and getting beauty rest, before sunset red;
For I'm an opal night owl, my scent blooms open all night long.
I am called Mirabilis jalapa, or four o'clocks, adoring birdsong.
I am yellow and deep pink stripes, beloved by hummingbirds,
And grape sun butterflies, when time seems to go backwards.
I keep a daily appointment with destiny, at about four o'clock,
As I love pearly moon more than sun, when dancing in my frock!
I know where's Nature's manifestation
Lark in the deep Nature is fit,
Silence or brawl in bossom may be on
And prettier than lamp be lit.
First the morning sun doth take better role
Comeing silently on meadow
Like a guardian to protest the foul
Which lived night thro', high or low.
......
I was a college music teacher, engaged in pitch, tempo, rhythm and melody,
As lavish planets dance around a golden star, with the zeal of fuchsia fidelity.
I taught harmony, vocals and singing, and how to play musical instruments,
Like the harmony of redbird's distant calls, entering into sunglow moments.
Teaching was thrilling and rewarding, a great way to share the love of music,
As roving stars ever return to grape, dusk skies, being apparently homesick.
Loving mysterious music as I did, it followed naturally that I loved to dance;
......
People are noisy.
Sitting in the dark I can hear the highway from miles away.
The trucks screaming over the metal bridge that's there for the construction.
The cars on their ways to work.
Honking horns sometimes bullet the air.
I wonder if people ever realize how noisy they are?
I bet there's a guy in Brooklyn that's never truly heard quiet in his life.
Maybe that's why people make movies about nature and what it's like to be outside on adventures.
Or just truly outside, in nature.
Sometimes I think I've never truly heard quiet.
......